Recently, a member of the Road Map to Healing program said she’d had an idea to write a letter to the child she never had, and she asked if I thought it was crazy.
Here’s what I told her (edited slightly to maintain her anonymity):
“Writing a letter isn’t crazy at all. One of the things that makes infertility grief so unique is that there is seldom a finite end to the journey. There’s almost always some option still open and the loss is more of a gradual moving away from the dream, rather than a sudden end. It makes it really hard to acknowledge the end and grieve that loss.
Doing something tangible, such as writing a letter, creates a kind of marker that says, “this is the end.” And the other ladies [in the program] are absolutely right about not being silent. If you need to find a time to be alone, close the door to your room, and just let it all out, do it. It’s exhausting, but it’s amazing how much grief you can purge with a good cry.”
I told her I would write a post on this topic so that you could share your experiences with creating an end to something that has none. So here it is.
In order to start moving on with your healing process, did you need to create an ending with something symbolic and meaningful to you? Please share any “crazy” ideas that helped you find a stopping place and begin coming to terms with your life without children.
Also, a new session of Road Map to Healing begins February 5th. There’s no cost to join the program, however I will be offering some additional opportunities to join support calls as well as work one-on-one with me. You can find out all about it here.
I did that! At the end of journey…when we finally said “enough” to ‘trying’ …I wrote a letter – it wasn’t really to anyone in particular…more to the universe (?)….I wrote about how much I had wished for the little life, all the experiences etc and then wrote that I needed to stop wishing for someone/something else, and start wishing for myself. It wasn’t meant to be at the time, but it really did allow me to focus more on myself and create a line between ‘then’ and now:) I’m glad I did:)
Crazy idea but it helped.
Sell house
Rent out the kids room to a college student
Turn kids room(s) into non bedroom spaces. A library. Sewing craft room. I totally removed it from being a bedroom.
I did all of these at various poiints. But selling the house we bought purposefully to impress adoption agency did the trick to really enjoy freedom that comes post closure of that chapter. I would never deny the benefits I gained from the journey but it was painful 15 years of my life and I am glad its over. I now live in 1 bedroom apt and love it.
Thank you for this, I love this idea. I always recommend this to my clients going through grief, can’t believe I’ve never thought to do this for myself. I also love how you put how our grief works, “One of the things that makes infertility grief so unique is that there is seldom a finite end to the journey. There’s almost always some option still open and the loss is more of a gradual moving away from the dream, rather than a sudden end. It makes it really hard to acknowledge the end and grieve that loss.” Thank you!
I love the idea of finding ways to achieve closure. I no longer live in the house where I thought I might have kids. I have a two bedroom apartment. The second “bedroom” is a craft room. My life is not the way I expected but I do love my apartment and I try to appreciate all the blessings of friends in my life as well as my dog and cat that do add joy to my home.
I collected all the paperwork, books, bills, notes, and mementos that had anything to do with my journey to try to have a baby. I plan to get a bottle of wine, make a fire, and slowly burn all of it as a way to help release and move through the grief that all of that brought. I thought about writing a letter to my never-born child to burn along with the rest. This post was a good reminder.
I also gave away the last of the baby stuff I’d been holding on to to my sister-in-law who is pregnant. That was a big step toward closure.
Oh, and I bought white couches after my miscarriage a couple months ago. Nothing says “kids don’t belong here” like white furniture.
It was a long process for me. The first thing I did was throw away all the books I bought. A year later, I threw away a onesie I had been holding on to. A few years ago, I turned the room that would have been the baby room into my personal space. I use it for meditation, art, crafts, crochet, and holding my bunnies. This past year, I have been seriously considering selling my house. We really only need half the space and when I bought our house I was thinking we needed it for when we had kids. Lately, I don’t understand why I need a house at all and have been missing the apt I lived in before I was married. Like other posters here, I can see myself being very happy in a small apt.
I think this is a great idea, one which I’ve been pondering for a while. I’m almost out of tears, and the anger has eaten up my insides. Maybe this will help me come to terms.
To mark the end of my IF journey, last year in May, I bought myself an expensive – I thought about how much I would save money let it be only on diapers and all the rest of the years…so it was cheap in fact:) – silver ring with a beautiful Tahiti pearl. The ring itself has an irregular, quite modern shape and the pearl is greenish, magnificent, just perfect. This is my symbol that even if life didn’t turn out as I/we thought, it is still going to be wonderful, perfect. Personally, I have the right, and my husband & I have the right to be happy even without children.