My littlest boy went to bed tonight sad. I don’t know what was wrong with him. Whether he was just overtired, or had a bad day at school…
Or my aura of sadness spilled onto him.
It’s been eating me all day. And I didn’t know why.
The simplest of tasks like buying the new printer felt like a mammoth effort. My mind found it hard to make a decision that on any other day would be a simple one. Separate cartridges Cinders, you know that. Quality, not shit.
My bestie was having a completely sucky day, and I swear she may as well have been talking to a door knob instead of me. I wasn’t there. Not really.
I was flat. Distant. Not comprehending a great deal of our conversations like I would on any other day. She made me laugh though… even on the worst of days we laugh.
I’ve been flat out trying to figure it out all day.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I felt like ringing the Doctors and making an appointment. Telling them I feel like I am losing my mind…
I sent OgreDad an email earlier tonight. Just a short one to tell him the littlest Ogre had had a bad night and went to bed sad. He drew me some flowers and sent them back to me to cheer me up.
I guess he already knew I was having a bad day too.
He rang, and we talked. After talking to me he knew I was probably the one having the sad day.
Funny isn’t it. Three months ago I couldn’t talk to him. Yet tonight, he was the one I needed to talk to.
Most of the conversation was me trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. The other was him hoping it wasn’t him making me feel like I do.
We were talking about the kids again… and it hit me. And it took everything to hold onto the tears…. the ones escaping now as I type.
Sadness creeps up on me every year. It haunts every hour…
Every year I find myself wondering what the hell is wrong with me. And then, like a punch in the face I remember.
Today is one of the dark days.
The day eleven years ago when I looked at the screen and seen that perfect little figure.
Perfectly beautiful in every way… But so silent and still.
No sound came from the machine. No heartbeat was on the screen. No smile from the sonographer.
What I already knew stared me in the face.
I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stop the tears.
I didn’t want to hear what they were saying to me.
Seriously how the fuck could this be real?
I’d waited three hours in the ED waiting room. Why would they do that if this is what they suspected they would have to say to me? They knew why I was there, waiting was torture… I wondered if I was kept waiting so long because they thought it was just a pregnant girl over-reacting…
A thousand thoughts rolled through my mind. All weaved together. Screaming at each other…
“It’s. not. real.”
This cannot be real. This cannot be happening.
But it was.
My heart broke, and I watched OgreDads heart break too.
I was just over a week into my second trimester. I’d already felt them first flutters. I’d already fallen in love with that little womb dweller…
All I have now is a blue and white stick to prove she existed, even for that short time. I can’t bring myself to look at it when I go through the baby boxes… It breaks my heart all over again.
I look at all these beautiful kids I am surrounded by, and know there should be another face there. Smiling at me too.
I can’t help but be sad. It finds me without me even realising the day is near… I hate today.
Would it be wrong to skip today, and start again tomorrow?
I never heard you, but I hear you.
I never held you, but I feel you.
I never knew you, but I love you.