I love the book, “PS I Love You” by Cecilia Ahern. I picked it up used at the local B&N a few years ago, just in time to bring it with me to our trip to Seattle. And as I was sitting on the plane reading the book, I would need to dig through my purse just to find a napkin or a piece of tissue paper just to wipe all the fallen tears. It was THAT good of a book for me.
When I found out that they were making the book into a movie … let alone starring Hilary Swank, playing the lead character, Holly Kennedy … I had my apprehensions. First of all, the book was supposed to be based in Ireland and yet the movie is in NYC. Second, it was starring Hilary Swank. Don’t get me wrong … she’s awesome in any of her Academy Award performances, but I just didn’t see her playing Holly.
What got me to the theater instead, was them darn trailers. That and seeing that not only Denny (from Grey’s Anatomy) was in it, but Gerard Butler (King Leonides from “300”) was playing the husband. Yum. (Yes, along with Johnny Depp … I have a sick fascination for certain celebs.)
One weekend, I dragged Hubby to the theater to see it. And honestly, although there are parts of the movie that aggrevated me, I did like the movie. It certainly does not follow the plot exactly to the specifications of the book (I mean, really … what book-to-film movie ever does …), but it highlights much of the same core emotions that got me in the book. There’s one scene in particular that totally got me. It’s one of those rare situations where seeing it on film right in front of you is ten times better than reading the book.
(If you’re wanting to see the movie and/or read the book, I suggest you skip the next two paragraph.)
At this point in the movie, Holly is on a weekend trip with her girlfriends, all set up and paid for by her husband prior to his death. Her one friend just confessed that she was finally getting married. Her other friend also confesses that she’s (finally) pregnant. The look on Holly’s face said it all. While she was happy for them, she couldn’t help but be sad for herself. Then after the initial “Yay! We’re so excited about the news in our lives!” the subject was suddenly and akwardly dropped.
What’s more is later, Holly overhears her friends in the other room still overly excited about each other’s announcement and hears them planning for the next stage in their lives. It was nonstop chatter, while Holly stood there just looking utterly sad and alone.
At that point in the movie, I just completely lost it. Tears were streaming down my face while Hubby held me tight. I turned to him at that point and said, “I know exactly how she feels.”
And I totally did. It’s that feeling of emptiness inside of me. That black hole that some days I think will never be filled up. And in certain circumstances, the more happiness other people have in their lives, the deeper I feel like climbing into that big black abyss and just not resurfacing until all the excitement dies down.
It’s not because I’m being selfish (as later on in the movie, it was pointed out to Holly that she acting that way … pissed me off, too. Grrr …) or that I’m not happy for the other person. It’s not even jealousy that drives me to feel that way. It’s the feeling that I should be able to have some of that happiness too. That I’m entitled to have those type of exciting moments in my life as well.
Yes, I can hear people say … “Well, you can’t just expect happiness to happen. You have to make those moments happen for yourself.” And that’s where I say to that person, “What makes you think that I haven’t tried?”
I have put myself through everything possible to become pregnant with my Hubby & my biological child. I have had enough procedures to “clear” me out to last me a lifetime. I have suffered through months of poking myself with needles to help create the “optimum conditions” to impregnate me. I have dealt with month after month after years of hope at the beginning of my cycle followed by failure at the end of my cycle. I suffered the ultimate blow with my one failed attempt at IVF. I feel I have spent enough time and money and emotions of trying to get to that happiness. And yet here I am, barren and still childless.
So don’t tell me that I haven’t tried to create that biological child of mine … that exciting moment I’ve been wanting for the past ten-plus years. And don’t tell me that I’m being selfish for feeling as angry as I do at those times. And please please PLEASE don’t say to me, “Well, you could always adopt.” The truth is, we are looking into that option, but I still need to grieve the fact that I cannot produce my own biological child. And I will never know what it’s like to be pregnant. And I will never know what it’s like to breast-feed. The fact that I won’t be able to even announce to our family and friends that Hubby & I are pregnant is enough to grieve.
So please allow me have those moments of sadness and anger about my childless situation. And please, even though I find it difficult to talk about … push me to do so. Because, while it’s ten times easier to write or blog about it, sometimes having the physical human touch behind it makes me feel less alone and more loved.
PS Thanks for letting me vent.