The sorrow, the pain that I was carrying around, it was overwhelming.
At that point, that night after the appointment, I was pretty much lost. I didn't know what to do with myself or how to think, feel, or be. When little man went to bed that night, DH tried to put on some tv shows to distract me (and himself) from thinking about just sitting there, waiting for this to start, waiting for my body to begin to pass this child. The show he put on was Glee. We are behind on our shows always because we watch on Hulu, as we don't have cable, so the episode that we watched was the Whitney Houston episode. I did pretty well sitting through that, trying to occupy my mind while not really succeeding, until the end of the show. We listen to the show at a lower volume and always have the closed caption subtitles on so that it doesn't wake up little man, so when one of the final songs came on, the lyrics were right there in front of my face.
"If I should die this very day
Don't cry, 'cause on Earth we weren't meant to stay
And no matter what the people say
I'll be waiting for you after the judgment day."
The song ended with a resounding silence in our living room as both H & I sat there with tears showering down both of our faces, sobbing quietly. In that moment, I thought about everything. I questioned myself, my faith, my beliefs, everything. I haven't believed in a god or religion in a long, long time after being raised with a religious faith, but sitting there on the couch that night, I found myself hating my prior resistance to a god and hating myself for being so resistant, because there could not be a world in which I would never see this child again. That just could not be the case.
I also sat there and thought about my son. I thought about every single little moment of joy he has brought me in the short time he has been with us. I thought about what my life would have been like if he never came into my arms. I would be missing so, so very much. My happiness now is astronomically larger than it was before I gave birth to him, and I didn't even know it then. Without him in my life, I would be missing so much. I thought about just how much I love my son, and just how much I will miss of this baby, this child, that I would never, never know about. I thought about all the sleepy smiles, the giggles, the personality, the gentle softness of their skin, the sweet sleepy breaths, the touch of their hand reaching out for reassurance from mine. I would never know this child.
I feel like, for me, it almost makes it worse to know how much my life was enriched by having my son. That maybe, if I didn't have him, I wouldn't understand as much, and while I would still have to heal from this gaping wound, I wouldn't understand as deeply it's opening.
For the next few days, this was my life. I cried, I prayed, I talked to the baby, I laid in bed, unable to function, unable to sleep, unable to do anything even remotely productive or purposeful.
And I waited.