I found out at my 16 week ultrasound my baby was dead....
…Tried with all that I have to keep you alive, alive…
July 3 I never realized the pain I could feel, it seems impossible that I feel as bad as I do, because I never feel like I feel bad enough. I didn’t want to be pregnant again, at first. I had four children already, it just seemed overwhelming. But then I started to feel excited, and started to want the baby. The guilt is worse than the sadness. Why do I keep breathing when my baby is dead. It’s not even a question, I can’t answer it, I know it shouldn’t be that way. But every morning I wake up just the same. I should have gone to sleep with my baby, but I have too much here to die. I feel trapped in the middle of being alive and dead. I’m a ghost too. I didn’t feel enough pain, maybe, if I was suffering then I could think of the pain, but the pain was over fast, the pain in my body. It was just a brief torture, so horrific and invasive that it was almost obscene in its quickness. The loneliness of going through it by myself, amplified it somehow, knowing there is no one who loves me enough to be there with me. That was scarring by itself. The pain was like an evil trick the doctor played on me, they kept saying it’s almost over, but it will never be over. I won’t let it be. They should have told me that it will never end, and nobody will understand, and nobody will care like you do. The pain inside me never goes away. And I am alone with it, because he doesn’t care, or he thinks I should get over it and pretend it didn’t happen at all. It happened. I remember her. I won’t forget; I can’t do that like he can. My baby is dead. She is dead, she’s gone and I have to stay. I don’t even know that I want to anymore. I want to feel nothing at all. If I forget, who will remember her? If I died, she would be truly lost. It’s already like she never was. I have to see my body, that’s like a trick too. It looks like I still have a baby inside me. But I don’t. I only have death in me now. I’m filled with this yawning, ugly death of a baby that will not leave me. I’m glad he doesn’t have to feel what I feel, but it’s a sad and awful thing to feel alone.
July 4 I wonder a lot if she felt pain, and I feel so much guilt. Did she just go to sleep and never wake up? The last ultrasound her heartbeat was so strong and she moved; I felt it.
July 5 How can I forgive the one who abandoned me in the worst time in my life, the only one I needed to be with me? Because he didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to feel it, but nobody asked me what I wanted. Nobody cared that I thought it was unfair. Nobody offered to take my place when they pulled the parts left over from my body, there was nobody to care. And now why should I care? Why should I treat him like a person, when he dishonored my baby the way he did? When he dishonored me the way he did. I felt so sad until now, and now I am filled with HATE so strong I, have no way to release it. I’m just trapped with it. He goes on living, like he didn’t abandon me to my suffering, alone. I can’t even look at his face. I am so angry, and there is nothing to do with it. I just hold it, and let it grow in me, where my baby should be, now there is only death in me now, death and rage and hate. What do I say to him…? Nothing. He doesn’t care anyway. I know that now. I thought it was the drugs that made him soulless and cold and filled with nothing, but it wasn’t. It is what he is. He loves nothing that can’t amplify himself. I know I have to leave him now, but how do I punish my son that way? He loves him, because our son is a part of him, that’s the only way he knows how to love, selfishly. He only loves me because I made the boy. The same reason he loved any of the other ones. But it’s all for show. He has no love in him. When he looks inside himself, there is only his own reflection, nothing more. I hate him. And there’s nothing I can do about it.
July 9 There is grief, and that’s the way I should feel and maybe never feel better, but it has dulled like a few days after a terrible cut, it started to heal and now it’s just this awful, nagging itch. The guilt from not crying all day is worse than anything else, I think. Should I give up and not do anything again? Or leave her memory behind , and continue to live, as if this all never was? I feel a loss so profound that no words can even describe it. And yet it can’t be openly acknowledged, because to most people it’s not even a real death. Maybe it’s just having no outlet for all this feeling, nowhere for it to go…it just bubbles up in different ways I am so angry sometimes that I just have to stay away from everyone, because I know I’ll be mean to someone who has nothing to do with it. Some days I know I’m not fit to be with anyone.