After my last post, I read a post from Imagine Self. In it, the author talks about ambiguous loss and frozen grief. That stopped me cold. I had never thought of it in these terms and I knew immediately what mine is.
My ambiguous loss is my chain of miscarriages; the babies I never knew, the third child I never had. My frozen grief stems from my vision that I still have time to have a 3rd and yet this deep fear of starting over, both compounded by the fact that I can't seem to get a pregnancy to stick and the likelihood is high that I will never have another child. (These thoughts don't even take into account Mike's feelings on the matter. We are talking about my own ambiguous loss and frozen grief, right? Of the half a dozen incredibly useful things I have learned in the past 2+ years, one is that emotions can be completely irrational.) I suspect my frozen state now is compounded by the fact that so many people in my real life are having babies now and have had babies in the past 12 months, even though I truly am happy for all of them.
We went to the Monarch Festival again this year. Can you tell?
I shared the same above link (from Imagine Self) on one of my Waldorf homeschool online support groups, in the same thread in which I had shared a little vent about feeling melancholic. It sparked an interesting banter, to which I added the following comment I want to share here; I do not feel badly for anyone with an understanding of melancholy. To have a taste of that deep thinking, intense place is a gift. I think too many look at melancholy as if it is a lesser temperament than the others, and worth pitying, which I disagree with. Each temperament has its challenges and the challenge of melancholy is to not get too lost in it. I try not to confuse the deep place of melancholy with the dark, depressive place it can lead to if left to wallow. There is so much good in the deep thinking quality of the trait. There is genuine care of others, honest empathy, and a desire to truly problem solve.
So having over-thought about melancholy (oh, the irony), it is time to shake free and enjoy autumn and life during this season that honors and celebrates death and earth in the cycle of life. I am so incredibly lucky for so many things. I have been thinking about this more during the past few days, as I work through to shed the melancholic slump. My mother in law and father in law would have celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary this week. Last week we marked 7 years without my father in law. My grandmother would have turned 92 yesterday. I have these two bright, amazing lives that I am confusedly and lovingly nurturing. And so we cycle forward...