I have been going back and forth on when I should share this. When I started my blog, I had no doubt I would eventually share it. In part, I have been going through a healing process the past few months and I feel this is a step towards true healing. But, most importantly, I wanted to reach out to anyone who might be going through the same thing.
Note: I will probably end up deleting this post eventually, this sensitive subject is highly confidential personally. But something inside me is saying that someone needs to hear this.
The year 2004, was a blur. I was a single mother, just coming out of a divorce. A young-minded 25-year-old, I felt like I was invincible. I was on a Divorcee Honeymoon. Having fun was my life’s goal. Last month, 8 years ago, we had just been through 3 of 4 hurricanes. The power was out for 4 days in this little condo. We cooked out of the fireplace. At night, we played board games by candlelight. I had a friend, he was just a friend. But, was it cabin fever? Was it curiosity? I am not sure. But it was not a relationship either of us needed to pursue. One-night-stand.
This month, 8 years ago, I jumped up. No symptoms, nothing out of the ordinary. I just knew, I needed to take a test. Something in me was different. And there it was a clear and quick answer……. positive. I was pregnant. Me, a “good girl” but already divorced, already a single mother: pregnant. And this time, with no one to turn to. My first thought, should I even call him? I did. His answer, “you better take care of it.” So I did. I called the doctor. I went to a specialist, and at the time with my given diagnosis I would have been a high-risk pregnancy patient. At that time I was diagnosed with Systemic Lupus. I was severely sick in the past, and my doctor was telling me the ‘worst case scenario’ that I would be on bed rest the entire last half of the pregnancy. I ran it through my mind, prayed, became numb, even put off the first appointment. But I didn’t want it to draw out, I did what I thought I had to do: went to the clinic. I had an abortion.
My heart became numb, hate grew to its worst in my heart. And I tried to forget.
See, last year, the same doctor that gave me the high-risk prognosis, took away my diagnosis of SLE. Was I healed? Or had I not carried the disease all that time? And for the first time in years, I realized that had he not told me I was going to be high-risk I would have kept the baby.
I said I tried to forget, yet I have not. My unborn baby has been in the forefront of my thoughts many times through the day. Often in my thoughts, my afterthoughts, and in my prayers. She would have been 7, she might have shared the same birthday month as me and her eldest brother. Sometimes I would imagine if she was with me in the car driving the kids to school. And slowly, in the past few months, I have come to the realization that I need to let her go. I need to let her be at peace, as she is in a much better place than I could ever have given her at that time.
I have dealt with the guilt, the sadness, the anger. I hurt and ache, not because I am struggling now. It’s the feeling that I would never want my children to hurt at my doing. As much as I love my children, she would have been loved the same. I wished I could tell her that.
As I live month to month now trying to have a baby, I can’t help but wonder if I’m even worthy of the blessing, another chance. I pray, but I cringe. I am hopeful, yet cautious.
I have been seeing a lot of information on October 15th. A day of remembrance for the Unborn Child. For those lost in miscarriage, those who have not been conceived. Not knowing if she fits into this day of remembrance, but I remember her… Often. And she is my unborn child.
I am not writing this to advocate or not advocate for this sensitive subject. My experiences have no bearing on a woman’s right to choose. I am more writing this from an “infertile” point of view. I want to share with you the dynamics of my darkest secret as someone who has now dealt with infertility for 3 years.