I came home today and found some kind of plant in the middle of my dining table. I asked Den what it was and he directed me to a card beside it, explaining: it was a bonsai plant for me, from my bosses and coworkers at the bank. I’ve never had a bonsai plant before, it looks really quite interesting… I’m rather excited to have this plant.<\/p>\n
And for whatever reason this plant really hit me. Maybe because of the flowers we received when Devin died, but something about that ritual, the giving of a living plant in memory of a loss, struck me. I look the same. Most people didn’t know I was pregnant, and don’t know that I’ve had a loss. I wasn’t pregnant for very long, just 2 short weeks, and half of that was while I was on vacation. It doesn’t quite feel real. But here on my dining table is this plant, this corporeal recognition of our loss. A reminder that even if most of the world doesn’t see it, there are people that do.<\/p>\n
I wasn’t sure if telling the people at work was a good thing to do or not. With my situation with IVF it was hard not to, but it was a choice I made. But this… this reminds me of why I chose to tell, to be open. Of course I hoped that it would have a good ending and that I would have nothing but cause for celebration… but I knew there was a pretty high possiblity that it wouldn’t work out like that. But time and again I am reminded of the decency of people, and their ability to be sensitive, understanding, and supportive.<\/p>\n
::<\/p>\n
People aren’t always sensitive, understanding and supportive. In fact, some people are far, far from it. I have seen things in the last year – really the last 3 years – that really make me doubt simple human decency. It just makes me angry, the treatment that some people receive.<\/p>\n
The thing is, this society is changing. It used to be simple fact that you did not talk about your loss, whether it be a pregnancy loss or the continued loss of infertility… and unfortunately there are still people who believe that those of us who do are “dwelling” and refusing to move on. That those of us who blog openly about our struggles are selfish and looking for attention. They don’t want to hear about it. They don’t want to know about it. And they don’t think anyone should.<\/p>\n
Well I call bullshit. You know what this is? It’s called life. It isn’t<\/i> always beautiful and happy endings, and I refuse to pretend that it is. You look back through my archives, and you’ll see it all: anger, fear, joy, hope. My goal in life is to live it. All of it. Where I am right now is the day that I am living.<\/p>\n
I started this blog for myself, because writing helps me, and I wanted to have a written record. But it is public because I like human connections. I love forming relationships with people, through our words, through our shared experiences. It makes life richer. It even makes it a little easier to get through. I love blogging for the simple fact that it is optional. I put my words out here for the possibility that people will find them interesting, or helpful in some way. Those that don’t can just move on. I am not monopolising a room full of people, I am not forcing someone to sit and listen. I whisper my words and those who wish to can come and hear them, leave them, take it with them as they choose.<\/p>\n
For the most part I love the way blogging is changing society… or maybe it’s the way blogging is reflecting the way society is changing. It is certainly not the only path to connecting with others… but it’s a new one, and a powerful one. It can be about the stupid, inane, trivial daily things, sure. But it’s about people. It’s about stories. It’s about seeing more than you see day to day, the “How are you”s that don’t wait for a response. It’s about hearts and souls. It’s about learning that everyone has struggles and that no one is perfect. It’s about understanding. How can we possibly ever hope to truly help one another if we don’t understand one another?<\/p>\n
It is not about me by myself. It is about all of us offering up a little piece of ourselves to the world.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I came home today and found some kind of plant in the middle of my dining table. I asked Den what it was and he directed me to a card beside it, explaining: it was a bonsai plant for me, from my bosses and coworkers at the bank. I’ve never had a bonsai plant before, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":71,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[124,28,126,127,69],"class_list":["post-1849","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","tag-blogging","tag-blogland","tag-bonsai","tag-community","tag-loss"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1849","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/71"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1849"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1849\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1852,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1849\/revisions\/1852"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1849"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1849"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1849"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}