The Journey of a Survivor

When I was 11 yrs old I had the realization that…“my thoughts are not like other peoples thoughts. I am never going to be able to have a child. I don’t understand this because I’m too young but I know that this is going to hurt. I don’t know how or why but this is going to be one of the most painful things I’m going to have to go through…it’s going to hurt—it’s going to hurt a lot.”

 

It’s amazing that I had such complex and self revealing thoughts at such a young age, but I remember every detail about it. It was sunny out and I was standing with my palms turned outward and I was looking down at the grass thinking about it. After I thought about it some I put it on the back burner and did not think about it for years.

 

But, it’s really been hitting me the past few years. I’ve been thinking and writing about it but I’ve never shared it in therapy or talked with anybody else about it. I have some existential books on the topic but I’ve never made it past the first few paragraphs. It’s such a deep loss that I don’t have the guts to face it. I have to put the books down because I get overwhelmed with grief.

 

This is hard. I have a biological drive and a spiritual need to have my child but I know it will never happen. Nothing can replace my child—she will never be a part of me. There will always be a hole inside of me—a piece of me missing and I know nothing will ever complete me…I will want this for the rest of my life. I am going to be empty forever.

 

Sometimes I think about…you standing in your baby’s room holding him. The light is off but the hallway light is shining through the door. Your son is in your arms and you’re looking down into his little face. Peter, what do you feel? Love, amazement…I’m not sure exactly what that feeling is but I know it something so very special—it is warm and…priceless—irreplaceable. This is a positive fantasy because it settles me down a little when I close my eyes and visualize your facial expression. It soothes some of my pain for awhile when I imagine what you are feeling and I know you are experiencing it.

 

But, I still want that feeling—that moment—30 seconds. I’d give anything in the world to have 30 seconds of holding my baby and looking into her little face. Now, I feel as if I am mourning the loss of my child even though she has never been born.

 

Damn it. If I am going to have to mourn something …shouldn’t I get just a few seconds of that special feeling before it is taken away from me? How about 10 precious seconds…how can something be taken away from me if it has never been real in the first place? I know that I’ve never done anything to deserve this and there is no way to fix it or make up for it.

 

Destiny has stolen my child from me and left me with a barren soul. A part of me will always be incomplete and I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.