Everything in my life boils down to this one moment in time, a moment on a metal table with a wall between myself and my husband. A kindly doctor putting his hand on mine, an anesthesiologist to my right. Someone asks me about my cat, not the cat I have curled in my lap right now but a different cat, less neurotic. And I’m thinking about every last thing I did wrong, about what brought me here whether it be my own actions or just a bit of random unkindness from an unforgiving universe and this moment is crystallized in my memory and I don’t realize it yet but in the years to come I will describe it over and over in my writings as if I can encapsulate the finality precisely enough to stop the requests for explanations I just don’t have in me anymore. What happened to you to make you like this? And I smile and shake my head as if that simple gesture will erase the vitriol I’ve been inadvertently spewing, as if healing exists and I just got caught up in what? this moment where I lost control. This moment where I lost everything.
Published by missbattycake
I am thirty-nine. I'm not really sure why I'm still alive. I thought my youthful self-destructive habits would without a doubt leave me dead before thirty. Die young; stay pretty. I've lived a life of extremes. Sex, drugs, rock n roll, the whole shebang. Multiple mental hospitalizations in my late teens and twenties. I was beautiful; thus, I was doomed. These days are marked with an absence of dramatics and histrionics. My days are quiet and each morning they stretch before me and time slows. I struggle with violent mood swings, panic attacks, paralyzing depressions and hallucinations. I wake up fighting and after that split second where I think everything is okay--well, then the world comes crashing down. I'm married to the man of my dreams. I am blissfully happy having him in my life but I can't help wanting more for us. When we decided we wanted to start a family, I was thirty-five and so naive to the perils of reproduction. I spent a year tapering down on my psychiatric medications in order to prepare for pregnancy. When we were finally ready, we were thrilled to get pregnant on our first try. My husband and I were over the moon--until our baby was diagnosed with a fatal chromosomal condition. Devastated, we elected for a second trimester termination. They told us it was a fluke, so we started trying again. We never dreamed that after all that, we would be catapulted into a nightmare of pregnancy loss and infertility. This is my sad attempt to tell our story. View all posts by missbattycake