One Week Later

Posted on | May 11, 2016 | 2 Comments

It’s been one week.

One extended ache of a week since I casually walked to the restroom, the sway of my hips proudly announcing “expecting.”

It’s been one brief and endless week since I was able to rest a hand against my abdomen, smiling that secret, all-knowing smile of a woman in love with someone she’s never even met.

It’s been one agonizing week since a slash of red blurred and crossed my vision, blinding me with a series of question marks and broken dreams.

My stomach is a little flatter today, softer against the press of my palm; there’s no more hardened rise of life to greet my hand or eye. Yet in what seems to be a total betrayal of self, my clothes are still snug, pressing against the weight of my sorrow and leaving tiny indentations of memory pressed in places that used to house the flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.

It’s only been one week.

One long and heart-breakingly slow week.

One week to think about the moments that might have been, the life we might have lived. The child, to have and to hold, that is no more.

But today, around the time I was checking into the hospital last week to wipe clean the slate of dreams that had smeared and ran the length of my cheeks, I will wait at the door of another hospital room.

I will knock.

I will tentatively push open the door.

I will smile at the dearest of friends through a curtain of my tears.

And I will clutch to my heart a tiny girl, brought tenderly into this world in the wee hours of yesterday morning. And though she is not flesh of my flesh, she is blood of my blood… a child of my tribe, a daughter of my village. And, yes, I will weep, of that I am sure. I will weep softly over the aching emptiness in my self and over the sweet newness of this child. But deep down, I will know… I DO know… that life continues.

Life moves on.

Life… simply moves.

And though today, one week later, life may move me to tears with the reminder of what might have been once… it will also move me to remember what can still be again.

Today, one week later, life will keep moving me forward… onward to the place and time when I will not simultaneously break and rebuild through the sighs and coos of a newborn.




2 Responses to “One Week Later”

  1. Jelena
    May 11th, 2016 @ 5:30 pm

    Oh, my heart is breaking for you. I know how much it hurts, I have been there too.

    I hope your village can understand your pain and you can lean on them.

  2. Tricia
    May 11th, 2016 @ 7:27 pm

    Oh, how life moves on. I would have (should have?) been 39 weeks today. And yet.

    You are not alone. My heart and thoughts are with you.

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