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My body rejected my child.
Again.
This time, though, it sent me a message I’ll never erase from my mind. Not only did it get rid of my baby, it expelled so much blood I didn’t think it would ever stop. The mattress was soaked with it. The toilet filled with it. The shower flooded with it. The message was loud and clear: stop putting babies in here.
I had an incomplete miscarriage that required a D&C. We were in the hospital all night and most of today; the worst day of my life. I’ve lived many worst days of my life, but this really is it. I don’t know what there is after this.
My body doesn’t work properly. I can’t give Winter a child. We can’t have the family we planned.
“Do you want a tea or anything?” Winter asks, drawing my attention to the doorway of our bedroom. He brought me home an hour ago and settled me in here before leaving to go make some calls.
I shake my head. “No.”
I don’t want to drink tea.
I don’t want to eat food.
I don’t want to breathe.
I just want my baby.
Winter joins me on the bed, sitting with his back to the headboard and his legs extended in front of him. He pulls me close and I welcome his embrace.
Smoothing my hair, he says, “Your mum called.” When I don’t say anything, he continues, “She knows you won’t be going to visit her next week and is thinking of coming down to spend some time with you here. Are you up for that?”
I love my mum, but I don’t want anyone here at the moment. I only want Winter. “No. Not yet.”
“Okay. I’ll let her know.”
I stare at the bed. “Thank you for organising a new mattress.” Winter organised his guys to come around today with a new one. Something I’m extremely grateful for.
He doesn’t say anything; he just bends his face to kiss the top of my head.
I curl into a ball with my head on his lap. Gripping his thigh, I say, “Do you think I did anything to make this happen? Or do you just think my body can’t ever make a baby?”
“You did nothing. The doctor reiterated that more than once. This wasn’t your fault, Birdie.”
So it’s just that my body is faulty.
We turn silent for a long while, each lost in our thoughts. Not for the first time, I wish I could read Winter’s thoughts. He always says none of this is my fault, but what if he’s really thinking he should have chosen a woman who could make babies? What if he grows resentful of the fact I can’t give him a child?
His phone rings and he swears before answering it. “Yeah?”
He listens for a beat, and then says, “I need you to take over for a few days, brother.”
Winter was supposed to leave tomorrow for a trip that would keep him away for a few days. He cancelled that earlier. I didn’t realise he was planning on staying home for a while, but I like that he is.
When he ends the call, I say, “Will they be okay without you?”
“They’ll have to be. There’s no fucking way I’m leaving you.”
My heart squeezes with love for him. As much as my mind tries to fuck with me over whether he’ll end up resenting me for never giving him a family, I know deep down that he loves me with every fibre of his being. I know he will always choose me regardless of what I can’t give him. And I know we will be together forever.
I just wish our forever wasn’t littered with heartache and hurt.
I drag myself through the next couple of days, my body as dead as my heart and mind. The doctors say you can recover from a D&C quite fast and resume normal activities within a few days. They say it’s a safe and simple procedure. They say your body may still feel like its pregnant and that it may take some time for your hormones to adjust. They say a lot of things, but what they don’t tell you is your heart may never recover. I don’t think mine will ever recover from this.
