Friday, June 25, 2010

A 3 month old memory...

I used to love nighttime. It used to be the best part of the day. Lay down and relax. My mind would wander and images of the day would race through. And I'd eventually fall asleep reliving a silly conversation, or reliving a silly moment.

Now, I hate the nighttime, I fear it actually. I've never really been afraid of the dark, now it terrifies me. Nighttime is the worst. My husband is blessed, he is one of those people who falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, I am not. And nighttime is the worst.

Without fail, when I close my eyes, I see a bright light. It's coming from down, past my feet. My legs complete the dark tunnel to the light. I can hear lots of voices, but I have no idea what any of them are saying.

My heart is numb, my soul is numb, and I can't feel anything.

Then, all of a sudden, I feel it, I feel the urge to push and I can hear someone saying "push", so I do, then, I see it again. I see them block out the light and I see them place him on my belly. I hear my husband say "it's a boy, we have a son".

But it never changes, it always ends the same, I never hear him cry.

Every night, I will it to end differently, and every single night, it ends exactly the same way, without a sweet baby cry, but with a tear. I hate the nighttime, it never changes.

I close my eyes and I see the nurses searching for his heartbeat, but they never find it.

I close my eyes and I see the on-call OB sitting on the edge of my bed holding my hand, while the lady searches for any sign of flow in his heart, and she always looks at the OB and she always shakes her head.

I close my eyes and I always hear "I'm sorry..."

It never changes and I hate it.

I wish I was sleep deprived due to my 3 month old baby, instead, I'm sleep deprived due to a 3 month old memory...

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