When we were fighting our infertility, we kept it to ourselves. No one knew that there were days I could hardly get out of bed, the depression was so intense. My entire being focused on becoming pregnant. Every breathe I breathed I hoped and prayed. Each month, when I realized I wasn't, I would lie on the floor and weep.
But each day, when I left my house, I would paste a fake smile on my face and hide my pain from the world. And yet, I expected them to show compassion. As my husband would say, I was expecting them to read my mind. I was expecting them to see my pain and comfort me, even though I did my best to have my actions speak differently.
At the lowest of my depression, I was borderline suicidal. I hadn't started to plan my death, but I had started to believe that life was not worth living. That is when I realized I need help. I needed to find another purpose to life.
I have learned, there is more to life than having babies and raising them. But I had to walk a long, dark path to get to where I am now. I hope that I can help others on their journey. And I hope I can help everyone have understanding on the other side.
I don't know how often I will blog, but I will try to do a short one now and then. I feel like it will be easier to do short posts vs try to speak all the thoughts I've had in one long post, so stay tuned.

dear Savannah,
ReplyDeleteI hope you do continue writing.
have a lovely weekend.
Klara
Oh yes yes yes to this: "I would paste a fake smile on my face and hide my pain from the world. And yet, I expected them to show compassion." People aren't mind-readers, and if we don't speak up, they won't know what people are experiencing.
ReplyDelete