Sunday, December 28, 2008

So that's where they went...

I had a rough night. My cycle started after three weeks(from the D&C) and it was not pretty. The cramping and other unmentionables are not what I had anticipated. As a result, we missed early Mass and decided to head over to Sacred Heart in Camp Washington. I had wondered where some of my fellow parish members had gone(from years ago, in a once orthodox parish near me) and also those who I knew from the Cathedral and St. Bernard's. They are going to Sacred Heart. It seemed as if half the church, which was PACKED, was filled with familiar faces from Kentucky. I admit that I do love that church and feel quite at home there(the schola is amazing, too). I felt so horrid this morning, I only wanted to feel well enough to walk and get to Mass.
I prayed about some things weighing heavy on my heart and one was answered within minutes after leaving Mass(spooky). I need some hope and something to cling to, even if just for awhile. Just to get over this hump of sorrow. I realize how much I appreciate my kids this week. I was feeling lonely and scared, not knowing what will happen in the future...it helped to look at how they took in Christmas. I try to remind myself to live in the present(the way Mother Angelica does) then I remember how hard it is when sorrow or regret creeps in. So I did the best I could. I cried...sometimes out of nowhere. Most of my family understood. I didn't want to be a killjoy or bummer, I just collected myself and thought about baby Jesus(which sometimes made me cry, too).
I had a half hour of chaos on Christmas morning that was the culmination of anger, fury and frustration. It was enough to send me to confession after Mass on Thursday. I keep telling myself "this too shall pass" and try to find all the things to be thankful for in my life. I post this mess of thoughts and experiences to help those who may think infertility or recurrent miscarriage is something no one should talk about. It is unique in the life of a "real" Catholic woman in that we cannot use all the sinful methods of conceiving or carrying on. It is easy to feel isolated or hopeless because most of us do not have family or friends that understand our pain. It is hard in my case because I have children and everyone says "be thankful you have three". I have never said I am not thankful. Miscarriage makes me more thankful but it also causes more grieving at the loss of babies I will never hold. There is a bizarre shame that I can't even put into words. So there, that's how I feel and that's what is in my brain. It's not pretty but it's honest.

4 comments:

Sew said...

I have always loved Latin. But the one here is far and it just doesn't do it for me. It is a Vatican II church switched for a quick Latin Mass. I don't get the same depth, it kind of feels like a N.O. We go to a conservative N.O. and I LOVE THE PREIST! I love, love, love, love him. I know what you mean about the heebie jeebies! I get them too! Especially when we are traveling. It is at most an occasion of sin.....

Sorry you are battling the IF monster...

Dymphna said...

You have a right to grieve. One of the worst things I did was to try get back to "normal" right away. Trying to be brave and stoic caused me more pain.

Kit said...

Ah, dear Thorn, you are not alone. I've bottled all of these things up to the outside world (thank God for my husband and my oldest daughter, though) because my tendency has increasingly been to react both defensively and graphically (no gory detail left un-described)in the face of the usual platitudes and "encouraging" words of those who've never walked this road.

There is no one, good, ideal, or proper way to handle all that you're going through emotionally, physically, and spiritually. So all I can say is I'm with you. I totally "get" it. And I'm praying for you.

(((hugs)))
-K

Anonymous said...

I have attended Sacred Heart Church for over 16 years now. Fr. Mario is a wonderful orthodox priest and we are so grateful for him. I love that the traditional Catholics have also found a home there.

Cheryl