It is around this time of year when I start to feel nostalgic. You see, three years ago I was pregnant. My baby would have been two today. Girl or boy, it wouldn’t have mattered. I would have loved them to the end of the world.
I remember the shock and joy of finding the news. I remember waiting for the ultrasound with a full bladder and then seeing my baby for the first time on the monitor. The connection I felt was instant. My little gummy bear was safe and sound, happily growing inside me. Every day of morning sickness and pain was well worth it. The end result would have been so amazing.
I’ve learned that with joy comes pain. The pain of losing a child. Never seeing them grow or feeling them kick. Wishing that you could hear them take that first breath. Blaming yourself for not being a strong enough person to carry that child all the way.
December 6th 2010
March 9th 2013
Six weeks, One day
The days my babies slipped away from me. The days I will never forget. The days where I write and burn a letter to my babies then let the candle burn to nothing. I carry the guilt with me everyday. They say it gets easier with time but I need so much more time to get over it. I still cry when I see newborn babies. Sometimes I absentmindedly touch my stomach or I fight the urge not to cry when my son asks me for siblings. The emptiness that you feel inside never really goes away.
I was told I should be grateful because at least I have one child. What happened to the other two that I failed? Sometimes I feel bad for loving them more than my son. Is it bad that I do that? I’m grateful for my son but I wish…desperately…that I crossed the finished line with them. My son has his flaws but he turned out amazing. I wanted the same for them as well.
So I sit…with my hands wrapped around my stomach and beg for forgiveness, beg for another chance.
I can’t live with this kind of guilt and pain.
I promise I’ll do better.
Please, give me back my babies.
Turn back time.
I’ll work harder.
I’ll be good.
I’ll protect them.
Please give me another chance….
I’ve begged and pleaded and cried. The pain from a loss you’ll never forget. It haunts you. It weighs you down. Yes, they are in a better place but why so soon? Why wasn’t I strong enough? I should have been.
The fear of loss keeps me from having more children but I desperately want another child. I know it won’t fill the void that I feel inside but I want to have a baby. I want to have a baby with someone who loves me and them. I want a strong support system for “our” child.
Until then I’ll continue to live in this fantasy world I’ve created with my children. In reality, I’ll smile every day when my heart is screaming,
“Give me back my baby.”
To Be Continued