Lost Dreams

“Sure there will always be regrets and broken dreams , but you have to go easy on yourself....”

― Genki Kawamura

When we suffer a loss we tend to look back at what was taken from us. If a loved one has died we may look back on the happy memories we shared. The laughter. The tears. The comfort they gave us. The companionship and teamwork.

If we lose a marriage maybe we look back on those days of magic where anything was possible. The wedding day when we laughed and celebrated a new chapter in our lives. The adventures shared and the struggles overcome. Or maybe we look back on the fights and reasons the marriage ended.

If we have just been given a life changing health diagnosis we may look back on what life was like before we got sick. The activities we did. The lightness of a body without pain or disease. The days we woke up without fear knowing anything was possible.

All of these scenarios share one thing in common. We look back at what we have lost. While this is a critical step in our grief journey the past isn't the only thing we have lost. We have also lost the future.

In all of the above examples, in addition to the memories of times we shared or experienced, we also held a hope for the future we dreamed of. Maybe we had dreams of growing old together and raising our children. Or climbing mountains. We dream of the memories we always planned on making, but now will never have the chance too.

The above art is about my loss of fertility from my hysterectomy. Having to experience the trauma of a hysterectomy at 36 caused many levels of grief. I grieved the betrayal of my body. I grieved this critical part of what I felt made me a woman. I even grieved having a period! I think the worst of the grief though was the knowledge that I would never again be able to have a child of my own. I would never again hear that first heartbeat. Feel the kicks and hiccups. Watch my body grow with new life and hope for the future. I would never again have sleepless nights or first steps or first laughs or any of the joy and pain that comes with motherhood. This loss of a hoped for future is one I still grieve. My nightly dreams of being pregnant have been replaced by confusing nightmares where I am unable to conceive. I sometimes wake up frantically grabbing my belly looking for the baby I wished was there.

As we walk our grief journey it is important to acknowledge and mourn the hopes and dreams that were lost as part of a much bigger loss. Those hopes and dreams are just as worthy as our real past experiences and memories.