8 months ago there I waited breathless and dry reaching for the outcome of this strange, plastic stick you’re told to use as a child to determine if you’re pregnant.
That university toilet slowly caved in and I practically fell to the floor.
Positive.
Half way through my university degree, in love but apart from the one whom created you, a heat wave, a bubble or something a like - it felt like falling into another dimension.
Walking into my class straight after, double visioned and extremely speechless.
I never wanted children till my plans were completed.
Till I made something of myself.
I don’t know what it is about being pregnant that gives you this outlook, these emotions one wouldn’t feel otherwise.
Instantly I was in denial, I was in shock. I was... I was not ready.
Every day my body changed quicker than I could keep up. The sickness, the depression, the aches. Do you understand how many times a pregnant woman needs to go to a bathroom.
Under all the discomfort and fear I fell in love with it. It was like although I felt alone I was obliged to care for this being like it were to be the most precious and gentle soul.
Staring at my growth and feeling the soft skin you grew beneath I thought maybe, just maybe me and you could make it.
As reality set hard, seemingly like the Great Wall of China falling on me instantaneously. As much as I imagine a baby in my arms, I could not provide the best life at that time.
The decision for abortion was almost instant. Leading up to it I honestly didn’t know how I felt. Was I sad? Relieved?
I blogged previously about the entire procedure if you’re someone whose experienced something similar and would like to know more.
I never really considered how I’d feel afterwards.
Waking up crying and extremely disorientated, I remembered what had just taken place. Waking up after the procedure it had felt like a dream and very quickly turned into a nightmare.
I feared that God would punish me.
For being so selfless and unsafe.
The millions of women who can’t give birth who wish they could and I could and I ruined it.
To this day I am sure she was going to be a little baby girl.
I call her Araura.
It’s true when they say you never forget your first child.
Born or not.
She’s the burden I carry and the inspiration for my preparation to be a better mother, a better woman and a better partner.
My baby would be due any week now. If she were premature like I maybe she’d already be in my arms.
Sometimes I envision a cot beside my bed and I smile but then I think how silly again bringing a child into my life would have been. So selfish. I would love it for eternity but could they really love me this way?
How do you say sorry to someone who never even had a chance?
Will the heavens give me another chance to do it right?
Is he or she as beautiful as I imagine?
Her little fingers made by me.
All I want now is to work as hard as I can to be the perfect woman for a perfect child who I will never intentionally hurt or betray or abandon.
Who I will love unconditionally and effortlessly. Flaws or no flaws.
Araura,
I think about you every day.
To any mothers with or without children due to death, abortion or miscarriage, I feel your loss.
Remember God exists as does the heavens. If you don’t believe in God, believe in spirits.
Because when the body dies, the soul stays forever.
They see you and they watch you. They guide you when you don’t realise.
To my future child or children, I promise to put you before anything and anyone.
No comments:
Post a Comment