We started telling our parents and how scared we were and how we didn’t know what to do.
They were all understanding and I think that’s what hurts the most. Us both being terrified of there responses and to find out, they weren’t mad. Disappointed, but not mad.
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Weeks went on and I the sickness was almost fading it felt like, I felt off.
I started to become excited, looking at baby clothes and the prices of diapers and pacifiers, wondering what our little baby would look like and if we would have a boy or girl. And I started singing to my belly hoping somehow that my voice would help it grow, I wanted to be the best mother I could possibly be. And I was willing to give up everything for this baby. I would’ve done everything possible to ensure it had a happy, long life.
So I began to pray every night to a God I don’t believe in to keep my baby safe and healthy. It’s all I asked for, it’s all I wanted.
Days went on and I went to a state basketball game with my friend, after the game I had to use the restroom, nothing abnormal.
Once I sat in the stall and began to pee I looked down, there was blood.
I immediately told my friend we had to go to the ER, that I read if there was even a little bleeding to go check it out to calm my nerves if it was nothing.
Little did I know that blood was the start of my baby leaving my body, for good.
You know how the rest of the story is, I had a miscarriage.
Finding out this happened to me I wasn’t sure what to do, my days consisted of endless sadness and an ache I can’t even come to explain. My nights became sleepless and my days were long.
The sadness I felt became so intense I couldn’t handle it anymore, I drove to a local park that was near a highway and sat in my car for an hour, crying and screaming. Hitting my steering wheel until my hands and my whole body became numb.
My cheeks were stained from mascara.
My lips were chapped from the constant panic attacks I had, my breathing making my lips go from moist from the tears to dry.
I looked up from my lap and saw a bridge with traffic going at usual speed, sixty-five to seventy.
When I pictured my death before and my suicide I didn’t think of it as jumping off a bridge to being run over by ongoing traffic.
I wasn’t thinking, because I was numb.
I got out of my car not even caring that the door was unlocked.
Then I walked up the small hill to the bridge that I was eyeing from my car.
I got on top of the side and sat down, my legs dangling.
And I sat there for along time, just staring at the traffic going by.
Waiting for the best time to jump. Make it perfectly so the car didn’t have time to stop and immediately run me over causing immediate death.
But someone stopped and pulled to the side, it was an older man who got out.
He went up the hill and came up to where I was, I didn’t even realize what was happening, my mind was elsewhere.
I barley remember what happened between the period, he kept asking my name but I couldn’t speak.
He grabbed my arms and pulled me back so I now was standing on the ground.
I looked up at him, and he asked where I live and where my car was.
Then I pointed to the gravel area my car sat still running, and he walked me over there.
Sitting me down in the drivers seat and asking me if I was okay to drive home or if he should called the cops so I had someone watching me.
I said no.
And he walked away, didn’t get a name. I still have no clue who this man was.
Long story short, I got admitted to a psych unit in Iowa City and was there for awhile. Met some amazing people, and got put back on medicine and talked to some people about the grieving of this loss.
I discharged too soon, still needing help. I lied to the doctors. Wanting to go home.
My nights now consist of nightmares of hearing babies crying and seeing myself being pregnant. Hearing the name Jackson echoing through my head, wanting to name my son Jackson.
I couldn’t sit in class anymore, sitting in the nurses office and the guidance office crying over the ache that is still there and getting stronger throughout the days.
To this day I can’t sleep at night without waking up crying and sometimes screaming, not being able to breathe.
A frequent ache inside that doesn’t leave no matter what medication I take.
Grieving isn’t easy.
I am grieving a loss of someone I never met. Only felt.
