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Pain.

This is the most excrutiating pain I have ever come to know.

This is so hard. Something I never thought I would have to experience, let alone then try to put in to words for others to understand or make sense of.

So I'll try to describe it for you:

At about 3pm on Thursday, February 19th, 2009 someone smashed my chest open with a sledge hammer. Brute force was used. People were done being gentle with me, despite my bulging belly. It was over.

My rib cage was forced open and someone reached in and snatched my heart out. It was thrown against the wall, kicked around like a soccer ball for a while then thrown back to me with a piece of string attached to it.

It hasn't yet been put back in my chest. Instead, I use the piece of string to drag it around with me, exposed for all to see. It is sore and dirty. Little bits of gravel and dirt get stuck in it. It doesn't beat the same way as it used to. It is bruised, limp and wounded. Some parts of it will never heal.

Upon walking out of the hospital a day later with nothing but a small box of memories, the soft winter sunshine melted all of my skin away. Now everything I come in to contact with stings. Anything that touches me burns. I am so sensitive to everything around me, all of the elements. I am so exposed. Vulnerable.

Some days my arms and legs just wont work either. I cannot move. On those days, I stay in. I leave the blinds down, I pull the covers up and I hide. If I must go out, F (my husband) carries me around. He sweeps me up in his arms and he carries me around. I am so lucky to have him. He's being strong for the both of us, even though I know he feels the same. He is better at being a robot.

I am trying to grow back a new layer of skin. Small pieces are starting to heal over. I pick my heart up each night and I hold it and try to nurse it back to health. F helps with this, too. Hopefully one day soon, I'll be able to put it back in my chest where it belongs. One day down the track, it may even start to beat like it used to. Almost. I can only hope anyway.

There are always set backs though. Just when you think you are making a bit of progress. Like with the realization there won't be another June due date again next year. I did not get the prize of two pink lines. It hurts, it really does. Especially when you do everything right and play by all the rules again. But as I know too well, playing by the rules does not mean you will win the game.

But if the universe smiles upon us this month (I get another shot at 2 pink lines on Tuesday), and the fertility gods decide to work in my favor, then we'll have a late July babe.

I do shudder to think about all the babies that will die in the meantime. The poor women out there who will suffer my fate. They are out there, and they don't even know it yet. Maybe they took a pregnancy test this morning. It was positive! Yay! But little do they know, they may end up getting smacked down with a stillbirth, which much like it did for me, will come straight out of left field. I feel so sorry for those women. I wish Q was the last baby to die this way. Sadly, I know there will be many women walking this path behind me.

Posted by keepin0n on 2009-11-07 09:54:14 | Rating: