I just watched a tv show and it was centered around a pregnant woman. I watched it, not upset, and thought to myself, progress.
Then her water broke. And I lost it.
There are scents you smell that bring back memories. A song that plays that takes you back to an event and you relive it like it just happened. I wish this reel of my nightmare would stop playing and that reliving things I cant escape would stop.
I somehow thought the loss I had gone through in life protected me and was insurance to a life with 2 healthy babies. I lost J. I wouldn't lose my boys. I went through months of IUI prep to only find out that we couldnt explore that route. As we were in the room ready to move forward with that route. IVF was relatively easy as far as me getting pregnant but the cost was great and I feel like the OHSS played a huge role in my preterm labor. But never in my wildest thoughts, even when I, for a second, would worry before an appt, "what if theres no heartbeats," it never was a valid fear because I'd suffered enough and was finally getting my miracle.
Then my water broke. I can remember the feeling. I can remember the sound. I can remember everything about that moment. I heard Wheel of Fortune playing in the other room. I heard Jason and my parents talking to Nana. I heard bells ringing in my head and I saw the room spinning as I realized what had just happened to my body. And what that would mean for my boys. What it would mean for Jason. For our family. For me...
I can't escape that. I went through much more painful trauma with labor, with the deliveries, with the surgery, with the blood transfusion, with the fear I was going to die, with the pain of holding both of our sons, trying to find some understanding in something that couldn't possibly make sense.
In the months that have passed I've gone through a lot of tragedy. Jason killed in a car wreck. Me answering the door to the cops telling me. Getting a phone call that my Dad had died. Learning my mom has some terrible disease. Knowing every pain, ache, rash is a terminal cancer. You know, normal completely morbid thoughts that everyone has. No? Not normal?
I can't shut off my mind from going to worst case scenario. When I went to the therapist after my divorce, after my miscarriage, getting laid off, losing my house and losing J, I had these same fears. She said for most people it wouldn't be valid. For me, who had experienced such great loss within a month, not so far out of the realm of possibility.
What is the point of this aside from confirming 100% that I'm crazy? I can't escape my hell. And it's a silent hell now because I think, for all intents and purposes, I should be better. I should be ok. I should be back to a normal where losing twin boys you loved more than you could have ever imagined, where a belief in a miracle is lost and a faith in a God to protect you from such an amazing pain and loss is questioned, should all be better because it's been almost 4 months. Why should I still be crying over it.
I know how crazy I sound. I get it. But the crazy either stays in my head and manifests itself in to making me certifiable with 1 foot in the mental ward, or it makes its way out in my blog.
I'm going to get past this. I know I'll be ok. I know at some point the movie playing in my head will start showing a different feature but for now I have to get thru this without a fast forward button.
Everytime you watch a movie you see something you missed the first time. I don't know what I'm supposed to see, I don't know if there is healing in reliving but there is certainly healing in getting it out.
So I will pop some popcorn, let the movie play and realize at some point this will end. And I'll get to watch the next feature film that has got to have some happy storylines.
Nursing school? Hair school? Babies?
We'll see. Whatever it holds, I'm ready for the sequel to get put into motion...
I hope the leading lady is hot, confident and happy!