Melissa from So It Goes says "I can accept that it happened, but it will never be separate from who I am or my life. I will always feel like I'm missing a member of my family." This really resonates for me. I remember a New Year's eve when we were far from home (my grandmother was sick and dying) and I guess I must have looked really sad. My mom asked me what was wrong and I told her I was missing people who should be there. She thought I was referring to my husband (whose job had kept him at home and I was missing) who hadn't been able to make the trip with us when in reality I was missing my lost babies badly.
Annie over at Aurelia Ann offers a quote that describes perfectly how the passage of time affects loss and grief.
Time wears grief smooth like a river stone. The weight will always be there, but it'll stop scraping you raw at the slightest touch. But you have to let the time flow by; you can't rush it.This so beautifully explains how and why the trials of infertility mark us forever. This doesn't mean we can't have a wonderful, kick-ass life. It just means it will be different than what it would have been if we hadn't suffered through losses and infertility.
-Lois McMaster Bujold, Beguilement
And Luna from Life From Here:Musings From the Edge sums up this same point with her comment “But there is no such thing. Nothing makes sense. Nothing fits together. Your child is still dead. There is no end to that cold, hard, irrefutable fact. As an ending, “closure” refers to a static loop. But human beings are dynamic, ever evolving individuals. And grief is a dynamic process, not a destination. To suggest that grief comes to an end is to misunderstand its very nature.”
Do yourself a favor and check out the blogs of these wonderful ladies. You could learn a lot from them. I know I did.
