There are moments in your life, tragic, unseen events that grab hold of you and knock the wind out of you. Moments that make you feel as if you can’t go on. The day after I gave up was the day after my 2nd ectopic pregnancy, the sun was shining and I was pissed. “What kind of sick joke is this?” I thought to myself. I stepped outside to grab my pills trying to ease the pain. The air was so smooth, the birds were chirping, everyone was smiling and I wanted to die.
The day after I gave up we went out to distract ourselves. We visited family had small talk, laughed, and I excused myself to go wallow in my own misery in the bathroom. I looked at this beautiful painting my finances grandmother had painted and wanted to end it right then and there. We went to get our favorite vegan meal and I prayed it would leave a bitter taste in my mouth. As I waited for our food I harped on how long it was taking. I looked across the way and saw a lesbian couple cooing over their baby. Resentment set in and hurt took over my heart. Why is it that they can have a perfectly healthy baby and I lost two?
The day after I gave up I had nonexistent memories of our sweet girls running on the beach with their father, skim boards in tow. Laughing with beautiful dirty blonde hair and sun kissed olive tan skin. Waving and smiling at me to watch them as they skated off into the ocean waves.
The day after I gave up we went to a beautiful overlook of Berkeley. We’ve been there time and time again with no success of seeing SanFran in the distance, but the day after I gave up we did. The lights lit up the cities and you could see the spectacular designs on the bridge.
The day after I gave up my inbox was flooded by my aunts and cousins. By my friends that loved me dear. I was embraced with all this love and support. Yet I still felt alone.
The day after I gave up I held onto all the things people had been telling me during this pregnancy. “This time it’s going to be okay” “you don’t have to worry” “it’s all in your head”
The day after I gave up I told myself it was okay to let go. People will continue on and understand why you did. You will see your babies and be the mother to them you didn’t have the chance to be.
The night after I gave up I layed my head down and tried to fall asleep. I woke up to the sound of my love crying while he slept. I stroked his head and tried to comfort him softly without waking him. His breathing became a song along with the thump thump of his heart beat. It drifted into a lullaby as if to help me fall back to a peaceful slumber.
The morning I decided to fight the sunlight shinned through my window and I was greeted with a kiss from my love. My heart was sad but hopeful. The pain remained but I had a new look on life. Once again I held dear to the people who reached out and loved me through the tragic experience and told myself how I wouldn’t want them to feel the pain of loss as I am feeling it now. The morning I decided to fight I was told that my babies mattered and we’re shining down on me being looked after by my Nana. The morning after I decided to fight I was reminded of who I am and what I come from. A family of women who are survivors. Cancer, lupus, autoimmune diseases, drug addictions, and no infant loss. The morning i decided to fight was the morning I started fully living again.