Nobody Knows Where You Might End Up

I've watched Grey's Anatomy since it first started airing.  It is one of the few shows that I actually keep up with still.  A lot of the time it is overly dramatic and unrealistic, but there is research behind most of the medical sides of things and sometimes they do tackle big issues like racism, domestic violence, and mental illness.  And who doesn't like to escape from reality with a little over the top drama every once in a while? 

Never in a million years, did I think that random medical information I had learned by watching a TV drama would be meaningful in my real life.  But on July 19th, 2017 I stood in the techs' office of the women's imaging department of our local hospital and a doctor told me my child had an "abdominal wall defect" and I needed to see Maternal Fetal Medicine first thing in the morning.  The only reason most of those word really meant anything to me was because I had heard them on TV.  The doctor asked if I had heard of Maternal Fetal Medicine specialists before and my exact answer was, "Well, kind of, I mean I know what they do on Grey's Anatomy."  (I know really intelligent sounding answer).  The doctor actually responded, "You watch Grey's Anatomy?  Ok, good, yes, that is what they do," and he went on to explain exactly what they specialize in.  Of course he left out the part where the vast majority of the time the doctors on Grey's Anatomy pull off amazing fetal surgeries and never say, 'no it can't be done', though that is what I was destined to hear.

Come, come, fly into my palm

And collapse

Oh oh, suppose you'll never know

Nobody knows where they might end up

Nobody knows

Nobody knows where they might wake up

Nobody knows

Nobody knows where they might end up

Nobody knows

Nobody knows where they might wake up

Nobody knows

Tick tack toe, you're fitting into place

And now the old ways don't seem true

Stick stop blue you're only shifting I

In the same old shape you always do

Tip top ready for the rocket

And I'm tip top ready to go

Tip top ready for the sky

And I'm tip top ready to go, go go

Come, come, fly into my pa

lm

And collapse

Oh oh, suppose you'll never know

(Psapp)

I also knew two other things from Grey's Anatomy: abdominal wall defect in a fetus most likely meant an omphalocele and that I probably was not getting the whole story.  I was right about both.  Over the next several weeks I would take those little pieces of medical information I learned from TV about fetal surgery, brain shunts, omphaloceles, and never giving up, and turn it into real research from medical journals published all over the world.  I would do my best to translate the articles written in languages I couldn't understand that were from countries doing more to treat hydrocephalus than we were.  

Now, five and a half months into grieving Mira, and I still research the grief process and the effects of infant loss on parents almost daily.  I am not sure why.  I guess, partly to check and make sure I am grieving right, as if you can.  Partly, maybe mostly, I am just desperate for a magic answer to feel better.  I have read dozens of books, cover to cover.  I have read blogs.  I have read research from medical journals.  I have read the words of pastors and read through the books of the Bible most relevant. Each book, article, and passage has given me something. Some comfort in knowing others are grieving the same way, some confirmation that I am not crazy, some new idea for coping. But today I listened to Grey's Anatomy in the background while I cleaned that house and I heard a fictional character say something that hit me deeper than all the books and articles. 

“The dictionary defines grief as keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; Sharp sorrow, painful regret... we're taught to learn from and rely on books, on definitions, on definitives. But in life, strict definitions rarely apply. In life, grief can look like a lot of things that bare little resemblance to sharp sorrow... and when we wonder why it has to suck so much sometimes, has to hurt so bad, the thing we gotta try to remember is that it can turn on a dime. That's how you stay alive. When it hurts so much you can't breathe. That's how you survive. By remembering that one day, somehow, impossibly, you won't feel this way. It won't hurt this much. Grief comes in it's own time for everyone; In it's own way. So the best we can do, best anyone can do, is try for honesty. The really crappy thing, the very worst part of grief, is that you can't control it. The best we can do is try to let ourselves feel it, when it comes, and let it go when we can. The very worst part is that the minute you think you're past it, it starts all over again. And always, every time, it takes your breath away."

Almost a year ago, little tidbits of information gleaned from years of watching a TV show gave a small foundation for researching very complicated information.  Today that TV show took months of research and brought it back around the honest, complicated truth: Grief sucks, it takes your breath away, it looks different on everyone, it is out of our control, it comes out of nowhere, and the best we can do it let our selves feel it when we need to and feel something else when we can.  Maybe understanding that doesn't make it any easier.  I know I will still try to fight feeling it sometimes, and then feel guilty when the pain is not as strong.  Maybe I will keep researching for a magic answer, even though 'strict definitions rarely apply.'  But I will keep reminding myself of these true words, and I will keep hoping that the writers of this show are right and 'one day, somehow, impossibly, I won't feel this way.'  The only part they left out, and really, the most important part is, that I know God is with me along the way, through these parts that keep taking my breath away.