Monday, June 29, 2009

The Day After

It creeps up ever so slowly, ever so quietly, waiting for the right moment to strike. Moments of loneliness, moments of self-reflection, moments when one has nothing but their own thoughts to occupy them. It waits in the deepest and darkest of corners, crouched and ready for attack, preying on the vulnerable and the naive.

It's grief.

I didn't think I'd feel quite as sad going through this whole ordeal given my thoughts on not being able to support a child and needing to get my life together first. But I've got an unshakeable lump in the back of my throat and a nauseated feeling in the bottom of my stomach, and I feel the tears just waiting behind my eyelids.

Everyone's told me to think of it as God's will and to be glad I didn't have to make the decision on my own. which I've adopted as my belief. Or at least, tried to. It's easy to make myself believe that that's the truth, especially when heard from those who have been through what I've been through and knowing how they reacted.

But this loss is...traumatic, in a way. I was 8 weeks along, and in that time I went through a lot of sickness and call-offs and ginger ale and peanut butter crackers and extra sharp cheddar cheese and running through the city for the *right* dill pickle. I gave up my ability to wear heels because they made me lightheaded. And though I was sick often, I kind of liked the idea of having a child.

See, I don't think there's a certain age people should wait until to get pregnant. If you're self-sufficient and able to take care of yourself, and you're responsible, then go ahead and have a child. The time is different for everybody, I just know that at this point in my life I'm not responsible or self-sufficient enough for one. Which could be why God took it away from me.

And I know I should be reasonable about everything and just be glad I'm still alive and didn't bleed to death or any other complication from the incomplete abortion or the surgery. But there's something inside of me that still wants to ball up and cry. A part of me still feels terrible over this loss, and I just don't know how to get over that pain.

Luckily, I've got a lot of support from my family and friends, so I don't have the feeling I had when I first found out that I was going through it alone. And I know when it is my time to have children, I'll be healthier and they'll (hopefully) be healthy and I won't have to feel any guilt when I announce the news nor will I feel the need to hide it from anyone.

I just want this new pain to go away...

1 comment:

Nakeba said...

I am really sorry about your lost.. but God does everything for a reason. Just keep your head up, stay prayerful, and keep pushing. Don't forget... but you have to let go of the pain or it will eat away at you. I wish you the best of luck and once again I'm sorry for your lost. Much love!!!