This week’s Meme is all about SAND.
If you’d like to read some others words about it you can find them:
Here at the RED DRESS CLUB
And don’t forget to check out my Guest Poster today, Katie from Sluiter Nation, talking about her Proud Mommy Moment, it’s a great post!
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I was on the bathroom floor, curled in a fetal position, overcome with cramps and failure.
The sudden rush of blood had jolted me awake, but like any woman in denial I had resisted pushing myself out of bed. I waited for the second surge instead.
Another month of infertility.
Another cycle down the drain.
Literally.
I rolled to my back, the soft carpet cradling me in the hazy glow of my sailboat nightlight.
In the near dark, I glanced around at the seahorses, shells and pelicans situated on various shelves, the colorful, tropical prints of faraway beaches and destinations.
Tangible reminders, every single one of them, of what I had and where I’ve been.
Seeping out of me, proof of what I didn’t.
I was so used to running, chasing my own baby dreams.
Escaping to stunning places, one different than the next, but each of them offering me the warmth of sunshine, the refreshment of cool waters, the large expanses of sand.
On that floor I closed my eyes and imagined those spectacular vistas.
In Puerto Vallarta it’s rocky and coarse; on the Jersey Shore it scorches your feet as you sidestep tweens in bikinis and boys playing Frisbee, off the Gulf Coast of Florida it sticks to your soles like baby powder providing comfort from the heat of the concrete sidewalks.
And in Aruba, it’s so white and silky that it looks like a huge cloud sitting next to a blue sky; the azure brilliance of the Caribbean is dazzling.
The vacations were meant to refresh my soul, a time for me to take my sadness and disappointment and bury them deep in the earth, to leave my sorrow on those beaches and have the waves carry them away.
Places carefully chosen to heat the cold of my soul and readjust my eyes to beautiful things in life.
But infertility was sticking to me like sand; I could never shake it off.
Uncomfortable and bothersome, itchy and unwelcome.
Like these vacations, that at first seemed to shield me from unhappiness and give me joy, I would return to realize I had only shucked the shroud of pain for a short time, there was still plenty of it left inside me, like those granules at that bottom of my bags.
I would find pieces when I least expected it and need to clean it up again, washing it away with my tears.
My faith was wearing thin, my wanderlust was drying up, and my belief in good things was fading.
The thought of never crossing this expanse to the welcoming ocean reduced me to angry sobs soaking my bath mat and pushed me to my knees.
As I sat up, my eyes fixed on my favorite prayer.
The story of a man and his dream of footprints in the sand.
My last wistful thought before I dragged myself back to bed was so clear I almost heard it out loud.
The realization enveloped me like the sand, sea and sunshine.
“I know I am being carried”.
This is beautiful. Infertility is so gut wrenching and you captured that feeling in this post. I'm so glad you had a happy ending.
This was so lovely, one of my favorite pieces of yours. I love where you went with this, how you can never really completely escape from something so important and painful to you. Well done, my friend.. xo
Wow my heart was in the palm of my hand…what a great piece
Stunning…simply stunning. I think this is also one of my favorite pieces of yours. I loved the analogy and can relate to it, my friend.
Oh, such a beautiful piece. I can't fathom dealing with your loss, but the imagery of it was amazing.
You know I can totally relate to this post, Kirsten. Like Elena said, you totally captured it. Transported me back instantly.
This line, "But infertility was sticking to me like sand; I could never shake it off," is absolutely perfect. Great post, thanks for sharing!
How beautiful! Really well done. The grit of the sand really counters nicely the pull of the sorrow and the tides and the cycles.
Beautifully written, but oh I'm crying. The idea that your sadness was clinging and always with you, the feeling of failure that a period can bring, this is perfect but I am so sorry you had to experience it. Hugs and more hugs.
Your imagery took me back to beaches I have been to in my life. Sand is so hard to shake off, just like pieces of our lives. Beautifully done!
Oh Kir.I think this is my favorite piece of yours.I struggled with infertility too, but mine was an easy fix. Still, I remember the pain of each cycle "lost", forced to wait for the next, as supermarket magazines flaunted the pregnant celebrities du jour.I love the sand/vacation/pregnancy comparison – it makes it so vivid.This line "I would find pieces when I least expected it and need to clean it up again, washing it away with my tears." was perfect in describing infertility and how it's sneaks up on you like hidden sand.
This is heartbreakingly beautiful. I have had many times when I needed to be carried, just like the man in that prayer.
Oh, Kir, I just want to hug you. What a beautiful and touching and sad post. You know I think your story is exceptional and inspiring. But the way you told it here is amazing.
What a unique use of the prompt. I'm just so glad that you have your babies now!
Oh My Gosh! Yes – you are so creative
You know how after reading a book that moves you, you close it and just stare off into space for a minute or so? That's what happens to me. And that was what happened after I read this story. Wow!
OH thank you, what a beautiful compliment. I don't know how much I deserve it, but THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart.
just trying to keep up with you Farah!!!!! thank you for being here.
me too Shell! Thank you for reading and commenting, you know how much it means to me! xo
Those words, from you, WOW. You will have me smiling all day. To think you were moved by me. I'm humbled. Really.
thank you so much for coming by and giving me those gorgeous words.
a compliment from you, always makes my day. If something I wrote touched you , I know it's good. THANK YOU.
thank you so much for that beautiful compliment, means the world to me.
THANK YOU, thanks for being here and commenting….I love that it touched you.
thank you so much for that…if this touched you that makes me proud.
thank you for saying that….for tryingto understand infertility and for offering me those words. They are appreciated.
thanks Nat….any compliment from you makes my day. My friend. xo
it touched you and that's all that matters to me. WOW. Thank you. xo
thank you Cheryl, I told you when you notice my words, I smile. Thank you so much for these words. xo
Hi Elena, thank you for those words, for that compliment. It means so much to me.
HI Erin love when you stop by. Having you here and my words touching you, well that's a GOOD Day. Since we've known each other since the Infertility days, I know that a post like this tethers us together. So glad we made ot to the other side together. xo
Omg!! This is brilliant!The last line gave me chills. I too love that poem and have often given up and prayed that I be carried. Well done. So. Well. Done.
thank you, thank you!!!! I can't tell you what having YOU say those things about MY writing does for me. I'm humbled. THANK YOU> xo
Wow. That was beautiful. And honest. And heart wrenching. Also? A great take on the prompt, painful as it was for you. You're very brave for sharing.
thank you so much for these wonderful words from you. I am so humbled to have touched you with my own.
This is a wonderful post. When I am feeling pain and sadness…it always helps to know I am being carried.
Beautiful and sad. Thanks for sharing this. Great writing!
Your description, especially here "But infertility was sticking to me like sand; I could never shake it off." really helps to explain infertility to those of us who've not experienced it. I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. This is heartbreaking-ly beautiful. You'r writing is REALLY good.
Oh wow. Wow. I'm in tears. This was so beautifully written and so incredibly sad. At the same time, you ended on a note of hope and faith. I liked that. This is truly one of the best "sand" pieces I've read. It's actually one of the best infertility posts I've read. Bravo, lady.
Kir, this is so raw, heartbreaking, honest.Thank you for sharing so very much here.XO
amazing. so brave, so thoughtful, and so clear to me where you were in your head, seeing the vistas, reflecting on them, and then seeing that prayer. wow. thank you so much for writing and linking up with this!
Beautifully honest.
What a truly gorgeous piece of writing. It captures the feelings of those moments so well.
Beautiful post!
So powerful. You have a gift with words
This is so beautiful and raw at the same time. I loved how you used sand in the piece. Just great, thanks for sharing it!
It is as beautiful and moving now as it was when I first read it.
Infertility is one of the most heart wrenching things for a woman. It's always on your mind, stuck in your head, just like all your perfect vacations. We were right there on the bathroom floor with you giving you a virtual {hug}.
I remember that fetal position.You captured the emotions so well, Kir. Kudos for a brilliant post.
Heatbreaking and beautiful all at once. You write about those feeling so well. Good posts are the ones that leave you with the images lingering long after you've closed the window, and this is such a post. xo
thank you so much for coming over to read. You touch my heart every time you comment here. xo
It is and that is how I wrote this, to remind people that even after you get to the other side, you still remember it "Sticking" to you. so glad that I had women like you in my life to help "carry me"
*SMOOCH* ..there is nothing more I can say to you BEAUTIFUL FRIEND. Thank you. xo
thank you Amy, I am so glad it touched so many people. I cannot form the words for the gratitude I feel about how this post really resonated with people like you.
thank you,so much. THANK YOU.
thank you so much for coming by to read it….it has meant so much to me.
Wow, that comment just choked me up. To have you relate and have it "Stay with you" is a gift back to me. Thank you so much for reading it and telling me you liked it. It made my day for sure.
Amazing post. Having had this same experience myself, I love how you put it to words. That prayer is a great comfort for those who have faith. Bless you on your journey.Http://mommieorbust.blogspot.com/
Thank you for this post. I feel these words very much today (another failed cycle). Needed this.
I’m so sorry….so very very sorry. Thank you for coming over and I hope that your next cycle is a better one, filled with a dream come true. Hugs from someone who knows.
Love to you my dear lady. This post is yet another work of art in your portfolio. I’ve fallen behind in my reading and writing, and showering for that matter!, but do think about you often with so much love and respect. xoxo – Foxy
OH you…I am going to CALL you soon because I want to hear your voice and just chat. I think of you and smile, I look at your baby on my frig and smile, I read your cards and SMILE…what a gift you are to my life Foxy and how HAPPY I am that your dream of being a mommy has come true. xoxoxoxo
Beautiful post. Visiting from the braces bunch!
HI there..thank you for doing that, for coming over to say Hello. I do hope if you liked it you’d consider voting for it and if you submit one please let me know and I’ll return the favor.
LoL You’re so right on there! In-laws can drive you nuts, but underneath it all its heiter ignorance to your specific situation, our own over-sensitivity that gets us caught up in drama. Having tried to get pregnant for 3 years now, when every one of my four sister-in-laws have since gotten pregnant and had their baby once if not twice, I’ve learned that people, no matter how informed they are, still don’t get your pain if they’ve never truly felt it. And they’ve never truly felt it because YOUR pain is specific to you. Infertile women can bond over similar situations, but nobody has the exact same story. Anyway, I just think your post was very insightful, and can’t wait for tomorrow’s suggestions!! Thanks!
Infertility: a repeated loss of that which has not yet been carried to fullness. What a painfully poetic comparison of being carried along that sandy shore into your future. I’m rather certain you have more patience than you realize, my friend, and it has served you well. Peace, -j