This post probably isn’t fit for anyone to read. It’s something I’m trying to work through, emotionally and intellectually. It feels ugly to me and I’m more than a little ashamed of it. If I don’t get it written down, though, I’ll just keep dwelling on it. Sure, I don’t have to publish it, but my goal here has always been blatant ugly honesty. Just don’t read it, ok?
I feel cheated out of too many things. I was cheated by infertility, denied the ability to conceive a child without major medical intervention. I’ve written about this before and I’d more or less managed to come to terms with my feelings about it. Until now. Now, it’s one more tic mark in the column of things I feel cheated out of.I was cheated out of the pregnancy experience. Yes, there were a few incredible moments that I’ll never forget, but they’ll always be shadowed by the vomiting and the illness. The second trimester, when things were supposed to improve will forever be lost in the fear of the gallbladder surgery and then the membrane rupture. I had one good week in all of that…one week of feeling good. One week of no vomiting, of a healthy, pregnant appetite. One week.
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Allison is the contributing editor for Neonatal Death. She writes daily at Our Own Creation where she chronicles not only the life and death of her twins, Lennox and Zoe, but her world beyond.
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