Tuesday, January 20, 2009

An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imgaination


This month I have joined the Barren Bitches Book Club and the selection was An Exact Replica Of A Figment Of My Imagination By, Elizabeth McCracken. I highly recommend it.

Hop along to another stop on this blog tour by visiting the main list at Stirrup Queens (http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/). You can also sign up for the next book on this online book club: Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro.

Now on to the discussion:
On page 13, McCracken writes, "I want a book that acknowledges that life goes on, but that death goes on, too, that a person who is dead is a long, long story. You move on from it, but the death will never disappear from view. Your friends may say, Time heals all wounds. No, it doesn't, but eventually you'll feel better. You'll be yourself again. Your child will still be dead." Do you agree with the idea that those that have died continue on? Have you ever found that Time could actually change your perception of death? If you haven't experienced the death of a child (or even if you have), how might this translate into other areas of your life? (ie. infertility, adoption, loss of other family members, etc).

I think that McCracken is right- "life goes on but death goes on too..." That is a powerful thought and sometimes hard for others outside of a loss to understand. I believe absolutely that those who pass continue to live on with us in our hearts and minds. I've found that time can change my perception of loss, but the person and memory are never gone. And this does translate into other areas of life. Loss, although not always the same, hurts and I think there are losses we can get over with time, but there are losses that stay forever and shape who we are, who we become and our views on the world. Life goes on absolutely but death as well.

On page 94 Elizabeth McCracken writes, "I've never gotten over my discomfort at other people's discomfort" also "I don't even know what I would have wanted someone to say", and I am wondering how you have handled that discomfort when something terrible happened to you (suicide, miscarriage, failed cycle, etc.) Is it better for another person to say something cliche that makes you feel awful or is it better for them to ignore the topic all together?

I blogged something not too far from this a few weeks ago. I still don't know the answer. I think it depends on the situation. ON the one hand it is nice to know that someone is thinking about you and caring for you but at the same time, but when what they offer me is cliche,I usually feel like I have to make them feel better. That it's not as bad as it really is on the inside. There was a part of the book where she was talking about her friend who wrote letters and talked about Pudding and wasn't afraid to use share their feelings and I think that'd be comforting. Someone not afraid of your grief but helping you to embrace it and work with it. That seems to me like less work than trying to make people who feel the need to try to comfort you, feel better about your loss.

On pages 79-80, McCracken speaks of losing a friend after Pudding's death. I was struck by the way she wrote this passage because it clearly expresses her feelings about the conflict and about her former friend, replacing the silence that she used to break off the friendship (I suspect the friend in question has read the book by now). Have you lost friends during or after your infertility/loss/adoption? If so, how much of the blame for the loss do you place on communication and/or miscommunication? Does your former friend know how you feel about him or her and the loss of his or her friendship?

I have lost a friend during my infertility struggle. I blame the loss on myself and the silence I allow(ed). My inability to communicate and to share just what I am going through has affected our friendship enormously. Her husband, bless his soul, only wants to talk about when we’re having kids, what our plans for our future are, and I feel inadequate spending time with them. I am sure if I were strong enough to explain what I am going through they’d be supportive and wonderful but because of where I am in my journey and where they are in their journey of life, I do not feel ready to share my struggles at this point. I know my friend has no idea how I feel about her and our friendship and that saddens me. Someday I will be strong enough to explain things- hopefully I will be able to explain things to her.

On the other side I have also created friendships from this struggle in my life. One of the girls at work noticed I was out for appointments and she came down to talk with me. She asked if it had to do with getting pregnant and when I burst into tears she knew. She shared with me her struggles with PCOS and has been wonderful support. She is by far not the only one either. It’s amazing how many women deal with infertility, loss, and adoption. It’s nice to know that I have gained support and friendships as a result.

Hop along to another stop on this blog tour by visiting the main list at Stirrup Queens (http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/). You can also sign up for the next book on this online book club: Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro.

4 comments:

Baby Smiling In Back Seat said...

Re: your platitudes post, "Your day will come" makes me want to say right back to them, "Your day will come too." But my tone wouldn't be pacifying/encouraging, it would be more of a Charles Bronson/Clint Eastwood tone. :)

loribeth said...

Welcome to the book club! I appreciated your thoughts, especially about how life and death both go on. Also about how it's much less work when friends accept your grief, than when you wind up having to comfort THEM (been there WAY too often!). I too have gained some wonderful friends who walked this path, and if there is any "compensation" for my grief over the years, that would definitely be it.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for your responses to the questions, I enjoyed reading them. You make a great point about friendship, that we lose friends but also gain some as a direct result of IF. I had similar experiences when we were undergoing IF treatment: I picked and chose who I was going to talk to about it depending on whether I felt they would be understanding or uncomfortable. When we adopted Evie I think some of the people I hadn't told about our IF were a little taken aback but I hope somehow they learned a bit of sensitivity from it? Anyhow, best of luck to you.

Kristin said...

Isn't it nice to find people who really get it without you having to explain it all?

I am sorry for what you've been through and I appreciate you sharing your views with us.