Sunday, October 19, 2008

Same Time Next Year

Every year at the end of September and the beginning of October, two things happen.

The acorns fall from the sky in hailstorms and I fall into a depression. This year I had a lot of other things on my plate to bring this on, but layered on top of the current issues is the fact that sometime in the last three weeks would have been my due date had I not terminated a pregnancy in 1985. They say time heals all wounds, but apparently for me that isn't true, because twenty-three years later I still go into mourning every year. It always takes me a while to figure it out, but when I do I start to feel the grief lift, ever so slightly. This makes the three years that I've been trying to get over not being able to conceive a small raindrop in a huge bucket. I suppose there will always be times when it feels like my heart is breaking when I see a child and wonder...what if.

I am starting to see through the storm clouds, if only for small periods of time. I am still very sad and lonely and missing my friends, I am still angry and resentful that my riding is being affected by my messed up reproductive system and I am still coming to grips with and resigning myself to the reality of my home life. But sometimes I think that maybe everything will be OK.

This little previously unnamed filly finally has a name: Devious. That doesn't really work, does it? I call her Diva, she doesn't seem like much of a diva yet either but I just can't call her devious.


  1. What a beautiful picture, you two with the identical hair color who are so good for one another.

    Today I wrote about anniversaries myself. The change in the fall brings out the somber vs. the change in the spring.

  2. Wonderful photograph, so peaceful, serene.

    Some pain is with us always. It takes the blessings along the way to help each of us to find comfort.

    For me, I try to find one blessing everyday. Sometimes it takes a lot of searching ... but there is always at least one.

    I hope you find many.

  3. I hope everything *will* be okay.
    I am still haunted by all my miscarriages so I think there are probably a lot of us out there who are missing "the missing".

  4. Dear Donna, I'm so sorry you've been in such a bleak place, particularly about the loss of your friends. You've had entirely too much to deal with, and I can imagine how debilitating it can feel when it all piles on top of what you've gone through already and then hits you all at once. Add that huge "what if" into the mix, and no wonder this season leaves you struggling every year. I'm so sorry, my dear.

    I'm glad you are starting to see through the clouds a little. Hoping with all my heart that everything will be OK.

  5. I am glad that you are beginning to see through the storm clouds. Keep looking for those rainbows, they will find you sooner or later.

  6. Nice to have you talking again Donna...lovely photo of you and the little one...I am sure she has a devious side to her (most foals do:-). Hang in there.