I walked deep inside my heart and unburied one baby with a dimple on her chin. I have been so afraid of losing my boys because I lost a baby in each miscarriage. I thought I was okay, but I am still holding her. The girl trying to come to me.
Lifeless, and looks almost two for some reason. I didn’t bury her. I have to though. I had to see that the child I lost is separate from the two wonderful ones I have.
She is dead, not them. Those babies died, not my boys. Those babies are in heaven, not my boys. What now? How crazy am I? I’m not crazy. I’m mourning.
Note from May 2012
Will refused to comfort or support me after my miscarriages saying, “It’s hard to love someone you never knew.” He couldn’t empathize, let alone feel the pain himself. He could have pretended to care!
I feel he withheld any pretense of affection purposely. If I was sad, then I wouldn’t have the energy to fight him. Emotional abuse at its worst.