My Beautiful Failure

I have never failed at anything I have tried as spectacularly as I have failed to conceive and carry a child to full term.  It is my most epic and most deep failure – but it is also my most beautiful failure. 

How it is a beautiful failure?  Because I did everything humanly (and technologically) possible to achieve my goal.  I followed all of the directions, thought all the right thoughts, poked in all the right places and put up with all of it.  And, yet, I still failed.  My failure is beautiful because I am ok that I failed.  I’m still loved, accepted and respected – and perhaps, even more so than before because of what I have endured.  I don’t have to wear a scarlet letter F (or I for that matter) on my chest, or branded on my forehead.  I can hold my head up high comforted by the fact that I did everything that was required and could not change the outcome.  In short, my failure is not a measure of me.

For these reasons, failure is no longer a bad word to me.  It can truly be a thing of beauty:

(F) image: mag3737, (A) image: Jeremy Brooks, (I) image: Leo Reynolds, (L) image: mag3737, (U) image: mag3737, (RE) image: wryonedwards

8 thoughts on “My Beautiful Failure

  1. Mrs X, I salute you for this:

    “My failure is beautiful because I am ok that I failed.”

    I want to be just like you.

    And happy upcoming blogoversary, my friend.

  2. That’s not your failure; life failed you. Your failure would have been not even getting out of the starting gate or being too scared to try again or getting so angry that you shut out the world and curled up in a ball for years. You, my dear Ms. X, are anything but a failure.

  3. It is so difficult not to feel a failure in the face of both infertility and pregnancy loss.

    You are a very wise woman, Mrs X: I feel that I have learnt an important lesson from this post.

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