I started taking antidepressants a few days ago. I gotta admit I think I have a bit more energy but I’m still sad. I don’t think the pills will heal my heart. I woke up early this morning. I’m not sure of the time. It was still dark outside and the world was silent. It occurred to me that although you won’t talk to me that I can still talk to you.
I’m believing that you may never read this but I can’t let that deter me. I need to heal and move forward without you no matter how painful that is. So I’m going to start at the beginning and work my way through it. I’m hoping that I can find some peace in making my peace with the idea of talking to you. I believe that I know the very night that you were conceived. I rode in an ambulance for the first time. I had such pain in my lower stomach that I had to get it checked out. Bending over pain that I could only lay in the fetal position! Our relationship (your dads and mine) began with a mission to get you! We didn’t meet, date and fall in love. We met at school and he followed me around like a lovesick puppy while I tried to get rid of him! SMH! He was determined to get next to me and he eventually wore me down!
I had a stillborn baby in April of 91. I was 36 weeks along in the pregnancy and he was 8 lbs 8 oz! A beautiful boy and I named him Cameron. I was very heartbroken when your dad found me. My arms still ached to hold my baby. Immediately after I delivered Cameron I asked my doctor to tie my tubes. I didn’t want to feel the pain of losing another child but he refused to do it. He said that I might change my mind once I had time to heal. “Some people choose to never have more children and some have another right away.” That statement stayed in the forefront of my mind and when I relented to your dad’s advances I was clear on my intentions. I asked him if he would help me get pregnant. He jumped at the opportunity with great enthusiasm! A few months later we learned that you were on your way! As you grew in my belly the aches in my arms subsided.
When you were born I was delivered. I no longer suffered the pain of the loss of Cameron. That is not to say that I didn’t grieve for him still but that you cured the ache in my arms. Maybe I was wrong to try and soothe myself with another baby. I don’t think that you were a mistake but I don’t know how we got here. You were my baby and I loved and cared for you.
Now 28 years later I am essentially dead to you. My heart again aches for the baby I lost. this time it’s much worse because my baby is gone from my life but she is not dead. How do I deal with this choice that you made?