So, first the news. I have had SOME of my results back: the karyotypes (that's chromosomes to the rest of us), they are normal. I didn't realise just how worried I had been until the nurse said those words. Normal. We are not mutant freaks of nature and we do not have any of the identifiable genetic problems (such as the MTHFR gene) that contribute to recurrent miscarriage.
The pelvic scan, she is also normal. (You'll recall my hot date with the South African, of course.)
I don't yet know about the blood tests for immunological and hormone factors. The results are apparently somewhere in the system, but are having to be teased out by two big, burly IT guys with alt-backslash.machetes. or something. But check back with me... I'll update this post (or post a new one) when I hear something.
So, anyway, on to the Free Speech part. You will, no doubt, have seen that Troll-y (sorry, but the name just stuck) returned on the comments board yesterday. Now, now...stop with the hissing. I actually think it was very brave of her to want to try to explain herself, and, hey, we're all entitled to a hissy fit now and again. Lord knows I have enough of 'em. But I had wanted to post anyway about a couple of things, and Troll-y's comments fit into this. This isn't open season on Trolls, so if any are reading, keep reading to the end.
I won't say anything about the reference to Troll-y's adopted daughter, because I'm sure her intention was not to somehow suggest that we infertiles should get over ourselves and start adopting. I'm also going to gloss over the reference to getting a full life. My life is very full already. I may lose babies on a regular basis, but it doesn't stop me having wonderful friends, a fulfilling career, a growing shoe collection and a sex-god for a husband.
I want, instead, to focus on this thought (a direct quote, but I have left some parts out for brevity):
My comment was greatly misunderstood by you. I in no way meant that you would magically sustain a pregnancy by being positive. What I meant was that by being happy for someone else, you may be happier by whatever life might give you...by letting go of negative and jealous thoughts. Of course, everyone has them--but try not to dwell. You get what you put out!
I've posted a lot about how I see this blog as my safe haven, a place where I can express myself in a way that I cannot, for various reasons, in the 'real world'. And that includes the expression of some very strong, very dark emotions. I would venture to say that all of us, at one time or another, have had feelings that we feel unable to share with friends, family, workmates, even our therapists or counsellors. They are murky, scary feelings. Feelings we are embarrassed to have or that frighten us as to what we might be capable to doing, thinking or believing. I still maintain that if you met me in the real world, you would not recognise the even-tempered, friendly, sympathetic person before you as being in any way related to my blog persona. I don't talk about the darkness very much in my real life.
But they are part of me, and I make no apology for that. I am human, and every single human experiences jealousy, rage, selfishness, self-pity, despair, and sometimes even the desire to inflict hurt or to humiliate. I feel very strongly that to ignore those feelings (to not dwell on them, to use Troll-y's phraseology), to parcel them up and tuck them away so they don't see the light of day, is harmful and can impede healing. Not everyone agrees, and I understand that, too.
For me, my blog is where I can put the dark feelings into words and explore them (whether on the blog itself or in my own thoughts as a result of a post), in order to rob them of their power. Instead of allowing them to shock, shame or embitter me, I give voice to them and over time they become just feelings that I can choose, or not, to allow to rule me. The whole point, for me, of putting them out (again, to paraphrase Troll-y) is to reduce them to manageable proportions. But to get to that point takes self-exploration and that, in turn, depends on the willingness to first admit that these feelings are part of me.
My blog is also where I have been lucky enough to find individuals who understand (or are at least willing to try) where I am in this journey. It is a selfish vehicle in many ways, but by allowing others to read about my journey, I like to hope that just maybe I can help others understand themselves better. A comment from Kati suggests that it does help: "your honesty on this blog makes me feel human again!" What a wonderful affirmation for me.
I was wrong in my assumption that Troll-y was a pregnant woman. She has been through her own story of loss and hardship. I am still none the wiser as to why her experiences wouldn't lead her to greater, rather than lesser, empathy, but that perhaps is not really the point. Troll-y says, in her second comment:
If we can't be happy and support other women's good fortune, what does this say about us? We are all in this together. I am given hope when I hear of someone being pregnant, I could be next.
And I can honestly say (and indeed have said on this blog before) that I want to get to that point. I'm just not there yet. Troll-y doesn't say how long it took her to be able to feel hope for herself and happiness for others, but, actually, it doesn't really matter Everyone is different; grief has no fixed schedule. Anyway, I could reasonably ask Troll-y: if we are all in this together, how does your original comment help sustain that? A comment that said, "I've been there and for what it's worth, here is what I learned; here is what I now believe" is hopeful, constructive, supportive, all the things that promote this sense of community you hold as such as esteemed ideal. A comment that starts with "Grow up!" is just asking for an ass-whooping.
Of course, that assumes that we are all rational all of the time, and we're not. Troll-y, I guess, has her dark moods, too.
So, to those of you who listen to my rants and find the capacity to accept them, even if you don't agree or understand: thank you. To those who find comfort and release in my willingness to express the darkness: thank you for telling me. To those who disagree and find ways to tell me without invalidating my feelings: thank you for making that effort. To those who don't get it and who are angered or offended by me: thanks for visiting but this may not be a place you want to frequent.
Troll-y, I think it's cool you wanted to explain what you meant. I hope you come back. But I won't stop expressing the dark feelings until I have worked through them. That's what helps me in my journey towards hope and happiness. And when I finally get there, having put such effort into getting to that point, I will be more confident of being able to feel that way because I choose to, rather than because I'm scared not to.
