The Ultimate Rejection

erase your fearIf you are a regular follower of my blog, you know I’m a writer. Maybe you are too. And if you are, you know a thing or two about rejection. It’s a safe bet that most adults have experienced it in some form or another. Heck, my kids are no stranger to it in their own ways.

As citizens of this world, we’ve got to learn how to deal with rejection in a healthy manner if we want to cope with life effectively. (Agree? Tweet it.)

My birthday is this week. I’m usually a little melancholy around this time of year, and my whole family assumes it’s because I’m turning another year older. They tease me relentlessly. In fact, the jokes are so bad that they’ve taken to asking me how old I am the day before my birthday just so they can say, “Starting tomorrow, you won’t be able to say that ever again!” I go along with the joking and I don’t correct anyone; it’s easier to let them think my age bothers me. It doesn’t, but it’s simpler that way.

The real reason I’m a little maudlin this time of year is because it’s the anniversary of my miscarriage.

It’s hard to celebrate another year of my life when I have a child who never got to celebrate any life at all.

And that, to me, is the ultimate rejection.

I bring this up now because my sister-in-law is expecting, and she was having some problems this week. She thought she might be losing her baby. Of all anniversaries, that wasn’t one I’d want to share. Thankfully, she and the baby are currently fine. If you’re the praying sort, I’m sure they’d appreciate a prayer or two offered up for them.

My husband and I share everything equally in our marriage. But my miscarriage was the one thing I never felt I could share equally with him. I’m not saying he didn’t grieve with me. We both grieved. But the baby didn’t reject him. Just me.

I offered it all I had to give: nourishment, safety, comfort, love. But I wasn’t enough for it.

It was the ultimate rejection.

I had a lot to overcome when I learned I lost the baby. The physical issues were the least of it. There was the heart-shattering grief. The gut-wrenching fear that I’d never be able to have a child. The stomach-churning guilt that I’d done something wrong. And the soul-sucking humiliation that I was an abject failure.

I moved through life on a functional plane of existence just above ‘zombie’ for months. It truly took an act of Divine Intervention before I snapped out of my funk and rejoined the land of human beings again.

After living through a loss like that, a rejection like that, the other kinds of rejections in my life didn’t quite have the same impact. Sure, I still have feelings, and my feelings can still be hurt, but I now have a different perspective.

  • Have I had friends leave me out of things or tell me lies? You bet.
  • Have I had family members break promises or betray trusts? Sure.
  • Have I had colleagues drop the ball or cause damage to my brand? Yes.
  • Have I, as a writer, received rejection letters? Of course!

Do I let those things get me down? No.

I wish I could say I laugh and move right past them. I don’t. Like I said, I have feelings. But in the grand scheme of things, those things aren’t nearly as important as what I’ve already faced.

So the next time you’re facing rejection, ask yourself this one question:

Is this NO a life-altering NO, or can I move on from this unscathed?

If you can move on, allow yourself five minutes to wallow and wail at the world (venting your frustrations for a little while is healthy, after all), then pick yourself up and move on. Your next effort may be the one that results in your dreams coming true. You don’t want to cheat yourself out of your dreams because you were busy living a nightmare. (Believe that? Tweet it.)

son and daughterI hope none of you have ever suffered the ultimate rejection. Or ever will. I, thank God, have only suffered it once, and since then my husband and I have been blessed with two wonderful children—a son and a daughter. And although I remember that rejection every year, I have come to terms with it. While I’ll never say I’m glad it happened, I can say I learned a lot from the experience. If nothing else, I hope you can learn from my loss, too.

  • Keep your rejections in perspective.
  • Lament them to get them out of your system.
  • Reassess to see if you need to change anything before continuing with your plan.
  • Move forward with your next step so you are still pursuing your dream.

Do you have any suggestions for someone suffering a rejection? Share them with us here.

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Writer. Editor. Wife. Mom. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Dog owner. Award-winning author and recipe creator. Conservative Catholic with an avid interest in the supernatural. Think all that doesn’t go together? Then you have to get to know me better.

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8 Comments

  1. Staci, Happy birthday and I’m sorry for your loss. I used to wonder why my mother never cried over small rejections in life. I finally asked her when I was old enough to know it was important, and she said that losing two babies had been enough crying for her. One daughter was born and didn’t live, the other died in her arms of Whooping Cough when she was 8 months old. Beside that, nothing was of much importance, at least it didn’t merit crying over. That really overwhelmed me at the time, but your blog has brought it back to my mind, these many years since her passing. Thank you for bringing me back a memory, even if it is a sad one.

    • Thanks, Velda. And I’m sorry to bring back sad memories. But it really does put things in perspective, doesn’t it? It sounds like your mother lived a full life and endured many things; I wish I could have known her.

      And thank you for the birthday wishes. It was a nice day spent with family. Who could ask for more than that?

  2. I’m so sorry to hear about your loss, and that it happened around the time of your birthday. I can imagine that’s something that stays with you. I’m glad that you’ve got your two beautiful children, and I hope that you have a wonderful birthday.

    • Thank you, Stacy. It does put a bit of a damper on an otherwise joyful time of year, but when I look at the two beautiful children I have, I feel truly blessed. I really can’t ask for anything more.

  3. PS your children a beautiful.

  4. I was sorry to hear of your loss Staci and I know that it is a grief shared by many but never talked about openly. I find it hard when I get rejected or someone tells me how it should be…it takes me an hour or so after to start learning form that rejection. Thank you for your honesty and I hope your birthday is a bright shiny one my friend.

    • It’s funny; miscarriage does seem to be a topic people don’t discuss. I’m not sure why. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Maybe because on some level, it’s always painful. But discussing it here has been cathartic, and hopefully it will help someone else learn that while the pain is always there, it does become manageable. And if you can withstand that rejection, you can get over ANY rejection.

      And thank you for the birthday wishes.

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