I am kind of in survival mode right now and I will be for the next 48 hours. Today I said good-bye to my students, many of them forever, as they head to the great unknown that is high school. Tomorrow I have a staff work day. Then it’s appointments and cupcake pick-up before I barrel head first into Friday afternoon traffic.
Saturday is my daughter’s first birthday party.
Sunday morning she and I are catching a 6am flight to St. Louis.
This is why Wordless Wednesday was really more like Wordless Thursday and this Thoughtful Thursday will be read on a Friday.
So yeah. I’m kind of in survival mode. But it’s the kind of survival mode with a built in light at the end of the tunnel. It’s the kind of survival mode that I require of myself when I make ridiculous plans like wedging my daughter’s birthday party between the last days of school and a week long trip to visit family. I asked for this and now I’m getting it.
It’s not the earth shattering, heart breaking kind of survival mode that some in the IF community are dealing with. It’s not losing my final pregnancy at 15 weeks (@MaternalTurtle) or my second set of twins at 20 weeks. It’s not burying one of my triplets at six months or losing my tube to a 5cm ectopic pregnancy. It’s not a real physical or emotional crisis, like so many women are trudging through right now.
You know the saying, “when it rains, it pours”. Yeah, well, evidently when it rains, it fucking drops a wall of water on a community of struggling women who were already fighting against an overwhelming current.
Yesterday I tweeted this: (Here is where I wish I had that Tweet capture app – oh well, I’m too tired and lazy to find it)
This community is forced to shoulder immeasurable loss. I don’t know how people pick up the pieces.
Later in the day, someone tweeted back:
We do it together.
And then someone else:
Sometimes it amazes me that we not only survive it, but sometimes come out on the other side doing well…
I am constantly amazed at the strength and resilience of this community. I’m proud to belong with a group of women who rally so passionately around those who find themselves engulfed in tragedy and grief.
I was not a part of this community for most of my TTC journey. I did not have it’s support when I lost my first pregnancy. I was alone and it felt like no one understood or cared. If I had been a part of all of this, that loss and that struggle would have been a very different experience: still difficult, still painful but less isolating and dare I say it, less devastating.
Knowing I can depend on this community now, if tragedy does befall me, gives me a strength and courage I didn’t enjoy two years ago. I stand a little taller in the face of uncertainty. I walk with more confidence into my unpredictable future.
I am very proud to stand with these women, to hold them in my heart and in my thoughts, to grief with them and help them heal. I am also thankful because I know that in my time of need, they will be there for me.
So today I take a moment to celebrate this community. We are stronger than I think even we give ourselves credit for. Together, I believe, we are unbreakable.
And to all those women who are trying to hold their heads above the all-consuming waters of grief, please know that I am thinking of you always, wishing I could ease your pain.