As a therapist and facilitator of a monthly free support group for women struggling with infertility and/or early pregnancy loss, I bear witness to the full range of grief expressing itself. Not being able to conceive or to keep a pregnancy is a loss like no other. It questions the very fabric of a woman’s life: her body, her womanhood, her identity and purpose, and even her belonging to life.
Grief comes in many forms, frequently and unexpected. Leaving the house can become a walk over a minefield. Pregnant women cross your path, co-workers comment on prenatal ultrasounds, strangers in the grocery line chitchat about gifts for baby showers. Well-meaning neighbors or friends offer unsolicited advice. At the end of the day you are spent, simply trying to dodge all those random bullets, in addition to dealing with stress related to fertility treatment expenses, schedules, relationship strain, cultural and family expectations. And there is more still.
I often hear women feel bad about their attempts to deal with their grief. Isolation is such an attempt, as are anger, envy, jealousy and bitterness. These responses frequently engender a deep sense of guilt, shame, inadequacy and worthlessness. This alone is a heavy load. Support groups are a good place to share it, and to walk away with the gift of community and, quite often, unexpected beauty. Take this one, for example. After sharing lots of tears, confusion and anger, one woman said: “I am still a good person.” She said it with conviction and ownership, a ray of sun amidst a storm. “I am a good person.” What a brave and earnest claim! I loved hearing it and want to pass it on to you. You are a good person. You are capable of deep love; your grief is but the well that overflows from a loving heart.