You know when you get the bright invitation covered in birds and flowers and your gut says “no thanks” but you RSVP “yes!”? For a long time, I got really good at ignoring my gut. Heck, I helped plan baby shower after baby shower while in the midst of the darkest time in my infertility! I don’t say that to earn pity or a badge of honor or anything. Really I needed a slap on the hand! Going to the baby showers and certain family events wasn’t helping me grieve, it was forcing me to swallow my pain and deal with it later. So “later” became at home, after the plastic tablecloths were thrown away and the leftover chicken salad croissants were passed around.
This week on the podcast, we talked about how to BE PREPARED when you definitely aren’t prepared. Lindsay shares a tip she learned in therapy that’s a great way to help ground yourself in the middle of a breakdown. You can use it for yourself or to help a loved one.
In the heat of the moment, look to your five senses to ground you. Find five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell and one thing you can taste. Isn’t that such a great idea? So simple and easy to remember! Just in case you need a nudge, we’ve created a printable for you to keep in your purse or your car that you can pull out when you need it. We hope it helps in the heat of the moment!
We’ve all been there, sitting at lunch at Grandma’s or Mom’s or Auntie’s. The dessert coffee has been passed around and the conversation has moved from job updates and the weather to school frustrations and garden planning. You take a bite of brownie when your sister-in-law stands up and announces to the table that she’s pregnant. You’re able to make a small smile with your hard swallow and as everyone crowds around to congratulate her, you slip to the bathroom. Are you prepared?
Mother’s Day hits hard. Whether it’s another year of waiting or a year where you should be holding a newborn and you aren’t, there is nothing that will repair the wounds of infertility and loss. No words that can take the pain away. But in almost nine years of infertility, I’ve learned that there are words I need to hear but no one is going to tell me, so I have to tell myself. I want to share those words with you. It won’t solve the problem or remove the pain, but at least I can try to give you a salve to take the sting away. These words are for you, dear one.