A Tale Told By An Idiot
Sorry for the Shakespearean Reference. The line just seems semi appropriate.... I’m an idiot. Disclaimer: I have no formal training, nor do I have higher level education in the field of clinical psychology. However, I think the psychological phenomenon that I just subjected myself to is that of what a chronic gambler suffers from. I “knew” that this particular bet was going to be the winner. Like placing your mortgage payment on the blackjack table, I had a resolute confidence that was based on absolutely nothing. Unfortunately, my wager was just swept away by a remorseless dealer that communicated not one iota of empathy. This “defeat” was in the form of my wife just confirming that we are not pregnant this month. I don’t know why, but I had that fool’s surefire confidence that this was going to be it. It’s been over a year since our third miscarriage. When it comes to coping, I’ve been racking my brain attempting to pick a lane. I struggle to find the clear path forward that affords me the ability to retain the sanity I have left in reserve. Do you take the high road of positivity and faith that it will happen this month? This approach seems to only increase the level of disappointment when the “monthly visitor” shatters your hope. Or do you go in the opposite direction and maintain a cynical outlook that softens the blow when you find out that yet another proverbial grain of sand has slipped through the hourglass. We try incredibly hard to stay the course and cling to the resolve that saw us through once before. I don’t know…. For starters, I suppose that I should probably stop thinking that I arbitrarily have the winning lotto ticket some months. Anyone out there gone through the same thing? I’d love to know what tactic you and your partner practiced in order to preserve sanity.