Some days my brain can’t seem to form one single thought. Other days the thoughts come so fast and hard I feel if I don’t write them down quick enough they will crush me like an avalanche. Today is one of those days.
Each day seems to greet me with the same question. “How are you doing?”
The honest to God truth is I don’t know how to answer that question, because there are a thousand answers and I don’t know which one to give you.
I am alive. I am managing to eat, sleep, laugh and smile.
I am sad. I wake up to tears and fall asleep to them.
I am fucking pissed off. (Sorry Grandma). But I am. Out of 100,000 babies ours was the one that won the Congenital Heart Defect Lotto.
I am completely lost. I was going to be a mom. That was my next job, and the one I wanted most. Once again, I am back to the drawing board. What am I going to do with my life? What is my career going to be? What corporate institution will I have to return to and give two shits about? I am completely overwhelmed with having to give up my dream of motherhood at the moment, when I was so close, and return to a life I was impassionate about.
I am broken and empty. My body has been through a trauma. My body is in shock and literally wonders, “Where is the baby I just grew for 5 months?” It is a hormonal rollercoaster that leaves me in a place between hopelessness and hopefulness. My mind can’t keep up with the ups and down of this ride that I never wanted to be on in the first place. I didn’t stand in line for this ride. Yet I’m forced to ride the waves of its unpredictability.
I feel like Marc and I took a giant step forward, to end up taking multiple steps back. We are in the middle of a tornado trying to hold onto the pieces of our lives as they rapidly swirl away from us. This is not where we planned to be.
Everyone keeps telling me how strong I am. Positivity is a mask that I easily wear to be strong for everyone else. When tragedy strikes your own life you don’t have a choice. What is my alternative option? Give into the darkest thoughts I’ve ever had? Give into the urge to want to go be with my daughter? It is easier for our spirits to heal than our minds and bodies. My spirit is at peace. My mind is not. There is a lot of darkness there that seeps through when I am alone.
Sometimes I catch myself going through the checklist of rules I followed for this pregnancy: I began taking prenatal vitamins months before we even tried, never drank or smoked, ate healthy, exercised, didn’t touch the cat litter, didn’t eat sushi, didn’t go to Mexico with my family so I wouldn’t catch the stupid Zika Virus. I was so aware of the rules, and so abiding. But it didn’t even matter. In that regard I feel completely defeated.
In my heart I know that “everything happens for a reason, it wasn’t meant to be, God works in mysterious ways, etc. etc.” But it’s still hard to digest. The worst is when someone says, “There will be other babies, and you still have time”. It’s like telling a widow “There will be other husbands”. Delilah was her own person. Half way baked I like to say. She will never be replaced. I want that baby. It is hard to get over the fact that I will never have that baby. Our baby.
If there is any positive that can come from this, it is that another woman going through this finds my blog. If I can be a support to one other person, then I can find a little bit of peace. I know I’m not alone in this tragedy. I’ve already been connected to other women who have shared this horrific experience, and our stories unite us. The world is a very scary place, but if we can unite in our stories it is a little less terrifying.
So when people ask me how I’m doing, it is an impossible question for me to answer. I just am. I don’t know how else to explain it. I am here, I am trying to smile more and cry less. I am trying to pick up the pieces of my life and move forward. I am trying to take care of myself. I am trying not to miss my daughter so much that it destroys the rest of my life. I am.