Awhile back I purchased a book called "Bringing in Finn." Many of you have probably heard of the story-long story short a woman went through years of trying and finally did IVF. She got pregnant with twins and due to unexpected preterm labor she lost them/delivered them right around the same time I delivered mine 21 weeks. Anyway, the memoir is about how she came to have her son, Finn. Her 60+ year old mother offered to surrogate (gestational carry) for them after the loss and they took her up on it. In all honestly, I slammed the book shut in the middle, right after she delivered her twins. Too many emotions and memories of my own horrific loss filled my memory as my tears filled for this woman because I actually COULD imagine that situation.
Recently I picked back up and came to a part I wanted to share.
While her mother was pregnant with her grandchild, (Sara, the author's son), she approached her daughter and said "You are not broken, you are chosen."
The mom was putting some crazy spin on Sara's body not being broken, but her being chosen all along to go down this route. Again tears came. Although I don't deal with guilt at all (I KNOW I couldn't have done anything different with J and B), I deal with a large amount of sorrow that my body killed innocent, perfect, and healthy lives. I. Am. Broken. But chosen? I wasn't so sure how I felt about this but felt my heart feel happier about that thought than broken. The mom goes on to tell a story about maggots...
This story is taken right from the book. It's about a Native American man captured during World War II and held in a POW camp. "He was tortured and starved for month, and then, on the brink of his death, he was fed maggots from a dirt floor by one of the guards just before the camp was liberated. When he returns home to his tribe, he wallowed in grief and self-pity and likely a fair amount of PTSD. The tribe left him be for awhile and then took him to the edge of large lake with a stone tied around his neck.
'You can either choose to forgive and live,' they said, 'or die. There are only 2 choices.'
The man walked into the lake, intending to choose death. He started to sink, when his life force seized him and he began to forgive. As he struggled to the surface, he face the final situation he'd endured: the guard who had shoved the maggots into his face, moving his jaw so he was forced to swallow, encouraging the other guards to laugh at and humiliate him. It was too much, he felt, to forgive this man. He let go of the rock so he could drown.
At the last second, before all his oxygen had gone, a watery light entered his mind and he saw that same man reading a book while the other guards slept, reading about a way to keep someone alive using protein from the bugs of the earth. The soldier had not been tormenting him, it turned out, but saving his life."
Sara, goes on to say that her psychologist had said before we label a situation, we must consider the possibility that we many not have all the information. Before you name something as broken/bad to consider that there may be something "profound and important, not just for you but for the greater good-that could not come any other way.
I don't have all the information. I accept I may never know why I had to "swallow the maggots" aka lose my babies. Pain is a part of life. But because of Jude and Brinly, I have the deepest empathy for people that fight so hard and then lose. Although I would take Jude and Brinly 1 million times before this route, before losing them I would just feel sorry for people that had miscarriages. I felt scared for people that had stillborns/late losses-and I felt scared of them-what on earth do you say? You hear these random horror stories and assume it would never happen to you. How do you approach them? Like most people you want to avoid eye-contact and are freaked out to bring it up. But now? I have a passion to raise my own tattered arms and wrap them around new mommy's that wake up in this nightmare.
This is such a beautiful post. Thank you for reminding me of what we all have within us...you my dear, inspire with such grace and courage. I think of you often...sending you so much love. xoxo
ReplyDeleteYour insight is truly amazing. I know what it is like to be in the middle of the nightmare and feel like "if I knew that it would someday end, I could endure whatever is thrown my way". It was not knowing what the final outcome would be. Like I have said before, I don't know what will happen in this journey for you Holly, but what I do know is that you will have a depth of compassion beyond human comprehension. If it does happen and you do become that mommy that finally gets to hold her chubby, full-term, healthy baby you will carry that depth of compassion as you raise them as they need it. I have two rainbows and let me say from my own experience those losses of their siblings taught me how to nurture and care for them in a way I don't know that I would have had otherwise. I keep checking on your progress by reading your blog. Take care sweet girl (even though you are a woman now).
ReplyDeleteMy mom's dad died when she was 10 years old. She said at the time it was so painful and horrible to be a little kid dealing with such huge grief. Eventually she became a high school teacher and she understood that she had experience and empathy and was able to relate to so many kids that lost a parent through death, divorce, or abandonment. It didn't make losing her own dad any easier, but it did give her purpose and clarity in dealing with others. I don't know if this helps at all, but you are so strong, Holly. You are such an inspiration to so many of us...even though you never asked to be.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing. What an interesting story. I think you are very correct in that we often mislabel situations, especially bad or terrible ones. It is amazing how you can draw such strength and grace from your loss. Thinking of you often.
ReplyDeleteThis post is beautiful. Thank you for sharing with us.
ReplyDeleteI like the meaning in that story and agree that having all the information before judging a person or situation is important. Not always easy though. I also have found myself FAR more empathetic and willing to share of myself after my twin loss. I reject the impulse to close-up when I hear of someone's loss and instead reach out and offer an ear or arms to hold. I just did this recently with a friend who tragically lost his newborn after two days of being home. I cried and cried for him and his family and then sent him an e-mail to let him know I was here with (almost) complete and real understanding. He was grateful to have someone to talk to that had actually experienced the loss of a child and knew that kind of pain. I hated that he had to go through it, but was relieved to be able to turn my grief into something that could help someone else.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a beautiful post! Thank you for sharing! Sending you hugs! xo
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What a mind opening story! Sure gives a new perspective and a good reminder that there are always things we may never know. We may never know the full story or reason behind things, and that can provide a little healing sometimes, in it's own way.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this.
ReplyDeleteOn a lesser scale, I can relate to this. I suffered a miscarriage recently, and until it happened to me, I felt sympathy for those who lost a pregnancy. But it wasn't until it happened to me that I really understood what it felt like to lose a much longed for pregnancy and learned just how strong the women are who come back and keep trying after a loss. I do feel like it has made me a more empathetic, supportive person.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this. There is so much wisdom and perspective in this post.
ReplyDeleteJust wanted to let you know that you were on my mind tonight. Always praying and thinking about you.
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