Being in Limbo

I have published a lot of angry political posts lately. It’s easier than dealing with our own situation. Our journey to a mixed family was halted by our miscarriage.

Those of us who can’t conceive by ourselves have an excruciating wait before we can try again. I am so jealous of people who can conceive naturally. I would give body parts to be able to try again immediately, to take advantage of the super-fertile period that follows a miscarriage.

But we are waiting; we are forced to really sit and explore the nature of our loss, the fragility of our hope. People often say they are in limbo without really considering what it means. It means to be in a place of stasis, neither heaven nor hell, waiting for an undisclosed period of time for judgement, the outcome of which is uncertain. We are in limbo.

I try to snatch at the good this ill wind might have blown us. R and I have discovered a kindness for each other that I never knew I was capable of giving or receiving. We are having to articulate our feelings and our need in a time when we are both so vulnerable it is as if neither one of us has skin. We will be better parents as a result of the miscarriage.

But for the moment, bear with me. Let me rant about the political wrongs of the world while I cradle my wounded heart.

Being in Limbo

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