Sunday, April 12, 2015

The Other Invisible Hurt

When I was a little girl, I discovered something mind-boggling:

Kittens grow up to be cats.
Puppies grow up to be dogs.
The coolest of all?
Little girls grow up to be mommies with babies of their own.

That was the most exciting and wonderful news I'd ever heard. Granted, I was only 3 at the time, but boy-howdy, I thought my mom was pretty great, so of course, I wanted to be a mommy, too!

But I'm childless. Some may see that as a selfish choice. But it's not a choice.. at least in my case. I was born this way... and no, not like that. I have a birth defect that renders me completely infertile. I didn't know until I was 18.

People who lose their children have something. They had a child in their lives that they got to know. They have a grave to visit. People who lose a baby in infancy- they have a grave, a hospital bill that said there was a thing that happened. Even women who miscarry feel like their pain and grief is invisible have the memory of a pregnancy.

But my pain is truly invisible. My grief is for the nothing that might have been something. My pain is about nothing. I sometimes feel like I would have to draw attention to it for anyone to see my hurt.. and I would feel somewhere between awkward and really awkward doing that... so I don't.

I just sit in the dark in a corner and hurt and cry in silence.
And eat ice cream. Chocolate ice cream. I firmly believe in the efficacy of chocolate therapy... if there were any chocolate in the house.

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