Feelings

When I talk to people about how I am feeling, I cannot fully describe enough to help them understand completely what I actually feel; what I am actually going through. You can only tell me you understand when you, yourself, have gone through this. Then will it be that I listen and take your words, advice, even criticism into consideration.

For those of you who have gone through this, let me first thank you. Thank you for walking along side me. Thank you for finding your own strength in your moments of weakness and darkest hours to now use your found strength to carry me in my time of weakness; while I walk through my darkness in search for light. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for just listening.

For those who have not gone through this, I do not mean disrespect. These are my feelings, my opinions. You cannot put factual weight and importance on an opinion. Facts and opinions are not one in the same. With that said, please do not tell me it will be okay. Do not tell me it is for the best. Do not tell me how to feel.

Have you carried a child knowingly it will die before or shortly after its born? Then how do you know it will be okay? I know it will be okay, but right now it is not okay. I am hurting, and you telling me everything will be okay hurts more.

How do you know it is for the best? You never went through this. What if it isn't the best for me, or my Elijah? In a way, I do know. I know it is for the best, but you telling me its for the best hurts because I am at the point of still grieving. I will not stop grieving until I feel well and ready.

Do you really know how I feel? Let me help you understand, yet again...

Take two people. One person is a man, in his 40s. He is having a mid-life crisis because he wants that hot new viper that was just set out on the car lot for sale. He feels bummed because no matter how badly he wants it, he knows he cannot have it. He cannot have it because it is for the best; he has a wife and children to take care of. If he gets the viper, he will not be able to afford the needs in his and his family's life. He accepts the facts, sadly, walking away. He is OK. Life goes on.

The other person is a 3 year old. This 3 year old is taken with on a grocery shopping trip. He is given a delicious sucker to hold in his hands, wrapper taken off. The sucker is sweet smelling, shiny and new. His mouth starts to water as his eyes are hypnotically fixed on the sucker. He is told to hold the sucker tight, but he cannot eat it. Not even a single lick. He may hold it up to his little button nose and take in the sweet sugary smell if he wants to, but he must not eat it. He is also told, that after grocery shopping, before going home, he will have to give away the sucker. He may not take it home with him. During the whole trip, he is holding the sucker, caring for it ensuring it does not bump into anything, drop on the ground or get dirty. He is aware of the sucker's presence at all times. He also knows, when the shopping ends, he will loose the sucker forever. Sure, he may get another sucker someday, but it wont be "that" sucker. He will never hold that exact same sucker in his hands ever again. This makes him sad.

I feel like the 3 year old. I am carrying my sweet precious Elijah. He dances within me. I can feel his life, but I will never get to taste his life. I will not get to fully enjoy what he has to offer; my sweet baby Elijah. I do not get to take him home with me. He is so shiny and new; I will never get one like him again. No other child will be the same as him, because they are not him. I want him. My pregnancy is the shopping trip. Short lived with an apparent end. I know the ending to this chapter. What chapter comes after, I do not know for I am not looking that far ahead yet. I cannot see that far, my view is foggy and delusional.

It seems like a cruel joke to give a 3 year old a sucker and tell him he cannot have it. He has it, yet you doesn't HAVE it. A 3 year old cannot comprehend life, the fair and unjust, like a 40 year old man is able to. My mind is the mind of a 3 year old. I want what I want, and that is all that matters to me right now. I do not care about the science or logistics behind it, all I know is I want it.

Tonight I cried just as hard as I did on that horrible day my world crashed on April 1st. I start to panic because I think I cannot breathe. I start to hyperventilate; feeling my tears drown me. I am left with an unwanted salty taste in my mouth from my tears rolling off my cheeks and into the corners of my lips. I cannot cry with my mouth closed, since I cannot breathe any other way. The harder I cry, the harder my heart pounds on my chest. Then sweats start to kick in, then Braxton Hicks contractions. My body feels like it is being attacked. Only thing though is its attacker is itself. All I can do is shove my face into my pillow to breathe in stale air and force myself to calm down. The lack of fresh oxygen slows my brain, slows my heart rate and breathing. I feel calm until another burst comes through due to a thought. A thought my mind has thrown at me like a bomb, and I am under attack again.

Strange things have been happening to my body this past month. I know about 'normal' pregnancy symptoms, I am not an idiot. What I am finding strange is how the affects of emotional stress actually has on you physically. Today, sitting at my desk, I got the weird sensation that I was drunk. I actually felt drunk, from alcohol. I even smelled the scent of beer. My vision was blurred, I had a hard time focusing on people's faces, the room was spinning and I felt nauseous. I felt if I attempted to speak, it would come out slurred. I was afraid to speak. I just sat there hoping it would go away, that no one would notice. I was embarrassed. I wanted to sleep, or pass out; whichever came first.

Tomorrow my son has a doctor's appointment to be retested to see if he has or has not outgrown his food allergies. I am fearful that I am getting him tested too early, I wonder if I should wait until he turns 2. I do not want to see him get retested. It is not fun. The skin test isn't as bad as the blood test. Last time they took blood for this purpose, they pricked his itty bitty finger and milked his finger to fill more than one tube. I think it was like four or six tubes, small tubes. He cried and kicked to get away. I am fearful that I will not be able to physically and most importantly, emotionally handle his appointment tomorrow. I feel guilty as a parent, subjecting him purposely to pain. I do not want him to become afraid of me. I love my son, and I want to do all that I can to protect him from all pain, the physical and emotional.

Tonight I pray to God, please take away the pain from both of my sons, the born and unborn. Please hold my hand and give me strength for my son tomorrow; as he will need his mommy to be strong for him and to hold his mommy's hand. Lord, please let his food allergy tests, both skin and blood come back negative so that he may enjoy 'normal' food and not have to live a life of "cannot have". He does not deserve to watch others enjoy the "sucker" in life while he cannot partake in that same enjoyment. Amen.