Searching For Meaning Through Loss
One of my biggest struggles in the last few years has been learning to let go. Learning to accept what is, for what is, rather than trying to change it.
I’ve mentioned before that I work hard to avoid the traps of the what if game, but sometimes I still do fall into the why version of the exact same game. Another one of my struggles has been trying to figure out the why. Why is this happening? Most days I wonder why us? Some days I wonder why me (because when I’m feeling extra crappy I tend to think that I’m all alone in all of this, as if Mr. MPB and all of my friends out there aren’t also experiencing the same hurt)? Some days I wonder why our little babies had to die. Why my body couldn’t work the way it is supposed to. Why are we the ones walking the adoption path? Why does miscarriage happen to people who simply don’t deserve it? Heck, why does miscarriage have to happen at all, because honestly, no-one deserves it.
And every time I start asking why, I almost always end up trying to find the meaning in all of our pain and hurt.
My rational brain thinks that if we are going to go through this, there must be something I can learn from it. There must be some meaning behind the last few years of our lives. Otherwise, seriously, the world is playing some sort of cruel joke on Mr. MPB and I. For the life of me, I cannot seem to accept that the last few years have simply been a karmic joke to a puppet master pulling the string behind my back.
And of course, when my mind goes here, the next logical place for me to wonder is into the world of religion. I’m not a particularly religious person, while I was brought up in the church and I believe in a lot of the Christian ways of life like do good unto your neighbour. That said, I do not have a strong tie to the idea of a creator who is guiding us through our lives. I respect those who do, but it’s not my cup of tea.
As I try to see something beyond my current field of vision, I wonder, do I have to be religious to search for a deeper meaning? For the most part I think not, but I also think on some level have a religious faith would help me in my quest for meaning.
For me, trying to see meaning in something that just makes no sense is hard. I keep looking for logic where there is none. And looking for logic where there is none has the same results as continually slamming my head into a wall – it’s a pointless activity that just gives me a headache.
So, given my believes, it means that I simply have to accept the lack of logic. I simply have to accept it is what it is, and it is out of my control.
And yet, that said, I will continue to look for meaning. I cannot help but want there to be more to this then just dead babies and a broken heart. For me, maybe my meaning is that:
- I can contemplate for how my life has been enriched by knowing each of our babies, even just for a little while.
- I can take solace in the fact that by sharing my story I may just make a difference in someone else’s life and help them know that they are not alone.
- I will continue to use our experience to educate others in the worlds of miscarriage, abortion and adoption.
- I hope that I will appreciate the small things with our future child(ren) in a whole new way and on a whole new level then I would have before experiencing so much loss. Though all of this loss I have learned to refocus my life and my priorities away from work and onto our future family.
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