Broken Heart
I was alone when I lost the baby.
I didn’t know for sure that I was pregnant, although I had purchased two home pregnancy testing kits. The first one said “NO”.
I was saving the second test for another week. Back then those tests were not as refined, as precise.
But,
I was alone. My husband and two children were visiting his brother and
family.
There was to be a ham dinner, and we were there when I became
sick with what I
thought was the flu.
John brought me home, left me there, and went back to his brother’s house. I didn’t see any need for him to stay home with me.
I had stretched out on the sofa, with a ‘throw-up’ bowl just in case. The cramps in my abdomen would come and go.
I know what you’re thinking: why didn’t I recognize the cramps as contractions.
Both of my children had been delivered by C-section.
After a few hours, I was in such pain, and headed to the bathroom.
You know what came next. Male or female, no descriptions need to be given.
After all was done, I crept into my bed with a heating pad to home against my empty womb.
I
was two minds about the miscarriage. I started mourning for the baby I
would never get to hold. Yet, I was also glad I wasn’t pregnant,
because my son was only 10 months old.
Most of all, I felt an emptiness in my heart.
I curled up in a ball with the heating pad and a box of tissues.
started crying.
When the battles for abortion rights become vehement, I remember this moment. A human being died that day, no matter what the size.
