...a way of seeing beyond inner and outer.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Outside the womb

A few weeks ago, I found myself linked, by accidental choice, if there can be such a thing, to a large online community with whom I have nothing in common, at least on the surface.  Against their will, they've formed a not exclusive enough club made up of women who are trying to complete a process most of us take for granted and even work hard to avoid. They're trying to have children. When I  realized I was an outsider looking in on their often pervading grief,  I felt like perhaps I was trespassing, but I'd committed myself to participating and felt I should honor my pledge. Plus, these women are hilarious and twisted.  How can you not love that?

My life is sheltered by circumstance and I'm not one to tiptoe into trauma much less jump into it.  I'm unusual in that, and yes, that's sarcasm but I'm beginning to think there is a  reason to experience other people's grief, to seek it out even.  It's not as if you can "fix it". It's not as if your suffering will make theirs any less, but there is a sense that we have an obligation to each other to absorb the pain we see in others and give back the truth that pain does not define us regardless of how deep the abyss of the experience is.   

These next few days, I'm back, not belonging but not caring that I don't belong or that I know so little about what their particular hell is like.  I came back because I want to give them what they want most.  Sadly, I was not given omnipotence and am currently in the complaint queue to rectify this because I think I'd be an awesome superhero who would almost never use my powers for evil (not often, at any rate..and evil is subjective, right? ), but while I wait for this gross universal error to be corrected, I'm trying to think of other things to give these women.

I would like to give every one of them freedom from the betrayal they see in their own bodies and the choices they think they made that caused "this", from the constant clock watching that robs them of how beautiful the experience of life in general is and how beautiful they all are specifically. I would like to give them a picture of themselves from the outside, where the observers see formidable will,  relentless determination, phenomenal resilience and as I have said before, a strength that stuns me.   And I would like to give them all babies.  Many many babies, because when these women become mothers, and I do believe all of them will, even if it's not the way they long to be, they will teach the right lessons, will love wholly with abandon and will constantly mirror to their children the perfection that they have come to see in themselves.



30 comments:

  1. This made me cry.

    If only more people could be like you, the world would be a much nicer place.

    ReplyDelete
  2. E,
    You are such a radiant creature that I take that as higher praise than I can express in text, but I’ll tell you something I am convinced is true: We are all the same, radiant and good. The only thing that separates us are the many layers of fear that keeps it all hidden beneath the tender to the touch wounds.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Beautiful! It made me tear up too-- I was part of that wonderful but heartwrenching online community for about 4 years.

    :o)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Lesa,
    I had no idea you'd gone through so much to get your beautiful boy. If anything could be said to be "worth it" Talon is beyond, around, over and through it all. xo

    ReplyDelete
  5. I found your blog through ICLW, and I love it! This piece especially. You captured that longing to heal others, even when we know there's nothing we can do except love and support.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Thanks for leaving such a clever comment that made me laugh (does Linux qualify as a unisex name?) and for such an encouraging post. You know just what we need... appreciated!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Aw, this is incredibly sweet (in a non-sappy way). Thanks for saying this. It means a whole planet of goodness to me.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Liz,
    I'm so glad you enjoyed it and thank you so much for following! There are millions of blogs out there and it means more than I can express that you decided to spend your precious time on cookedheads.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Ms.M. I couldn't resist. In part, I'm a linux admin and as far as the unisex thing, call her Nuxi? Linu? lol.. okay, now i'm making myself laugh which is bad form, but thank you for stopping by!

    ReplyDelete
  10. jj,
    I wish there was more to give in a concrete way, but as it is, it is all I know to do for a group of women who are so spectacularly comported.

    ReplyDelete
  11. How lovely.

    You know, I'm not part of that community either. Many people assume that I am, because I have twins, but I was just blessed with twins (and a geneology full of twins). I think it's important for all of us to step outside of our communities.

    Certainly, there is comraderie in having a familiar struggle--the twin mamas I've befriended via the blogging world have been SO encouraging to me. And--they "get it". BUT, it's also good to step outside of yourself, explore other communities. You can become so entrenched sticking to one group of people. I am always blessed when I step outside the multiples blogs.

    ReplyDelete
  12. What a beautiful post - you have such a way with words.

    And reading this reminds me of my own thoughts...I too want to fix everyone and everything and it hurts so much that I can't.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Julia,
    I could not agree more. Isn't it amazing how giving, if you could call it that, gives back so much more to the person who extends themselves? These women constantly reveal themselves, constantly gift honesty and constantly move forward. I'm just consistently stunned.
    As to the twins, oh.my.goodness. Blessed indeed and I wondered if my daughter was going to have a twin but while she didn't, her children may! There's that lurking gene in there for me waiting for the right brew of circumstances too!

    ReplyDelete
  14. Ameena,
    If you ever figure out a way to fix it all, I'll baby sit for you for a month if you let me know your secret. In the meantime, I try to convince myself that it's all okay, even when it's not. Most of the time I'm successful. Other times, I have a martini.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Also here from ICLW. I didn't get into blogging until after we finally had our girls but wish I had found it earlier. Very warm and wickedly funny!

    If you figure out a way to get the non-superhero thing reversed, let me know. I'll happily be a sidekick.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Miriam,
    Now, see, because I have the whole "Take over the world, Pinky" mentality, I'm thinking, if I get it figured out, we should for a League of "What the hell were you thinking" coalition. Sidekicks are for people with ego issues.
    Well, more ego issues than me. it behooves me to be honest...

    ReplyDelete
  17. Beautiful! I haven't traveled this road, but have found that unless a person has "been there" they remain clueless. However, a listening ear, an open heart, and a warm hug are universal.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Such a lovely post! It brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my lips at the same time. It's always good to hear that someone gets it... even a little bit.

    I'll be back...

    ICLW

    ReplyDelete
  19. GG,
    Me either, obviously, but it's a good example of how being clueless comes with the opportunity to learn something.

    ReplyDelete
  20. Mrs. G.
    I'm so glad you enjoyed the post. It's certainly heartfelt, as is my thanks that you would return.

    ReplyDelete
  21. wow, this made me cry. I think so often those not in the infertility don't want to know, or just don't understand. Your blog post here is a huge gift to us because you are taking time to understand, to look, to listen, to give back yourself -- even though this is not the boat you are in. Thank you, so very much. (here from ICLW)

    ReplyDelete
  22. Andrea,
    While I hate the thought of one more tear being shed, I'm also very grateful to you and the women whose company you keep for letting me see your true hearts.

    ReplyDelete
  23. I have tears running down my face. Thank you for this. Your eloquent description of what you see in this community is so refreshing. I sometimes think that from the outside, I must look crazy! Thank you for reminding me of the unique strength and determination it takes to be inside. Happy ICLW
    AP

    ReplyDelete
  24. AP,
    I'm so glad this gave you something positive from reading it. Thank youfor coming by and leaving your kind note.

    ReplyDelete
  25. i had no idea what ICLW was, but after reading this i looked up. i can imagine the pain.i hope each of those women becomes a mother soon.

    Tracy you did an awesome job writing it so beautifully, could'nt be described any better.

    ReplyDelete
  26. This is so, so very beautiful. I got chills reading it, and I'm trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. Thank you for writing it, and for being here ... because you *do* "belong," as much as any of us do. You're right ... I shouldn't fear losing readership because I talk about something upsetting ... I wish there were more people willing to bear witness (whether the difficult subject is infertility or something else entirely) and to step outside of their comfort zones. I am so lucky to count you among my readers!

    ReplyDelete
  27. Justine,
    I'm very glad you came and read it. Take it with you and give to yourself always. It's a truth that needs to be knitted in our bones, regardless of what pain we experience. xo

    ReplyDelete

I love to know what you think, "for the Sake of Blessed Connection and Exquisite Controversy"