The Hurt in My Heart

My heart has been hurting today. A lot.

It started in the morning as the twinge in the nose and progressed to a dull thud behind the breastbone by this afternoon.  As usual, the hurt was internal.  No one came at me with a dagger or intentionally tried to bruise me.  My heart was just overwhelmed with seemingly innocuous things that really turned out to be little poisonous darts, each a minor annoyance, but collectively fatal:  Mother’s Day ads.  More Mother’s Day ads.  Participating in the dangerous game of comparing oneself to other infertiles, and pretty much everytime coming up short (meaning, still not pregnant).  Reading email from best friend with a near one-year old and trying to decipher whether we have entered into the game of one upsmanship.   Receiving drugs for the next cycle and being reminded – again – at what I must do to get pregnant that many others do not.  Remembering the joy of those moments when I was pregnant and genuinely believed that it was going to work, that we had finally defeated the monster.  

In other words, it was a bad day.

So, I took my hurting heart and went to the most peaceful place that I know of, my backporch, and stretched out on a chair.  I listened to the birds and the wind. I tried pleading with my heart to stop hurting, telling it that we are so lucky to have what we do. But, my heart was being churlish and refused to stop hurting.  “I don’t hurt less because everything else in life is rosy,” it said.

I knew I needed something or someone more compelling. I decided to summon Mr. X.  Never mind that he’s working and doesn’t know that I am summoning him in my mind. I closed my eyes and called across the miles to him. The door to the porch closed, I stretched out my hand and there he was sitting next to me, holding my hand.

“What’s the matter, my love?”, he said.

“My heart hurts, ” I said.

“Why does it hurt?”, he asked.

“Because it is afraid that it will never have that special joy of knowing that your dreams are finally coming true.  It sees others finding this joy and it wants to know when it will be its turn.”

“Ah, I understand why that would hurt. Can I have your heart for a moment?”

I reached inside and gave him my poor, shriveled damaged little heart. I watched as he cupped it in his hands like water and began to speak to it: “There is no reason to hurt, little one. This joy that you seek is not the only joy in the world. You can still seek this joy, but this can’t be the only joy that you seek or you will continue to hurt. You know this. I love you, little heart. No matter what happens or doesn’t happen, I love you and will love you.”

My hurt began to ease as I felt his love and as I realized that I can be happy without this joy, even if I still seek it.  I took my heart back and tucked it safely away.  I promised to take better care of it, to be kind to it and to try to shield it from those things that hurts it the most.  

And for now, my heart has stopped hurting.

16 thoughts on “The Hurt in My Heart

  1. This is so so beautiful and touching. I get those days too even now that I’ve moved on. Be gentle with yourself.

    Mrs. X: thanks – I hope that these kind of days get fewer and far between for you and for all of us. They suck.

  2. What a beautiful post. This time of year seems to bring out the hurt just a little more than any other holiday. I’m sending you lots of good thoughts and wishes for your upcoming cycle. In the meantime, do be kind to your heart and let Mr. X help with the hurt. It sounds like he does a great job with it.

    Mrs. X: Thanks. I hope your heart is safe this season as well.

  3. I’m glad your heart has stopped hurting. There is joy to be found…I’m working on that too.

    Mrs. X: best of luck finding your joy!

  4. May I just say, your writing is just getting better and better. I’m all teary eyed.

    I wish I could protect you from stupid stupid shmaltzy ads, weird frenemy dynamics, and yes, even from me and what I symbolize to your heart.

    Hearts do respond to care, even though they always scream that nothing, nothing will help them when they are hurting. It’s awesome that Mr. X can care even from a distance. 🙂 That’s love!

    Mrs. X: Thanks for the compliment on my writing! I just might get the hang of this writing stuff one of these days.

    Writing this post made me realize that I was not doing my job for my heart. It’s my job to protect it from the things that hurts it, even if I don’t think that it’s right for it to hurt because of someone else’s joy. That’s what I learned from this exercise.

  5. Your words speak for so many of us. I don’t know how many times I have tried to explain to my husband how my heart hurts, not physically, it just hurts.

    Some days are better than others. I hope you can have more better days.

    Mrs. X: I hope you have better days, too.

  6. This is a lovely post. I have had so many of those days of hurting and I am glad you found a path toward some peace. It’s an everyday battle that I wish you, me, and many others did not have to deal with. Be good to yourself!

    Mrs. X: Thank you. I hope we can all find that path to peace to make our hearts hurt a little less.

  7. mother’s day is a particularly painful holiday. not only am i not a mother for yet another year, but my crazyass mother drives me up the wall. i make mr. jb pick out cards for her because at least he likes her.

    beautiful post. mr. x is such a sweetie.

  8. There IS joy outside this pain, but I know how hard it is to find it sometimes. Glad you were able to draw on your deep connection with Mr. X for a little comfort and strength to keep going the other day, and I hope it will sustain you through the final stages of this particularly intense !MOM! time.

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