The Almost Baby

2 04 2010

Years ago, almost 7 in fact, there was nearly a baby.

Sometimes I wonder how my body conceived, not only did I take my birth control regular as clockwork, I also abused my body with a constant supply of illegal drugs and my closest friend the bottle, but mother nature has a funny way of working and I managed to fall pregnant.

The father – God… the father – was (sadly still is…) my itch, my itch that cannot be scratched, the person of my nightmares, the person of my dreams, the one who holds the power to bring my world crashing down and then raise me to the heights of heaven in a one minute conversation. I hated him, I hate him, I was obsessed by him, I am obsessed by him. He is, to put it crudely, my very own non-curable STD.

He has been my endless infatuation … he has never been my love. I have been his constant whipping girl … I have never been his love.

But the baby … the baby was different, it was pure, it didn’t know that it had been conceived by two of the most egotistical, fucked up beings that it would ever have the misfortune to know.

I found out (I am told) that the baby existed a bit later then women normally do, as the realisation dawned on so did the peace, I remember feeling tired, so tired all the time, and I remember feeling I had a secret that I didn’t want to share, I wanted to keep it all for myself.

Until the blackness arrived … until the blackness of what I really was started running through my veins like heroin, until I started looking in the mirror and seeing the outline of a bump and looking around me and seeing how my life really was. The genes, which created me, the genes of the people who destroyed me, were running through me into this new life form. How could I – the hated girl with the black eyes and paranoid-fuelled temper – pretend to myself that I was capable of being a parent any better then the ones I had had myself? Would it have been possible for me, the girl whose only sense of directions points the wrong way, the girl who could outrun the fastest cheetah to not run away from that baby … to not destroy that baby.

I didn’t have the kindness … I didn’t have the wickedness … to try …

He was meant to come with me the day they took the baby away from my body, in the end he didn’t bother, I remember his words …I should be there …I remember thinking what am I doing. I went alone.

There were protesters outside I was too numb to take in what they were saying, it seemed ironic to me at the time that most of them were men. I sat and waited for my name to be called in a waiting room full of couples, all ages, some looking tearful others so certain. I nearly got up to leave six times in ten minutes.

Your not supposed to see the scan they tell you to turn your head away but my eyes fixated on the screen, I needed to see the baby, I needed something to crucify myself with.

I cried when I left that day, sitting in my car in the carpark protesters still in sight, my body feeling empty, my evilness all consuming, I cried like someone who wanted to shed every tear that could possibly exist.

Sometimes I wonder who I was crying for … sometimes I wonder for whom I am still crying for.




10 responses

3 04 2010
Duma Key

I am glad to see you back, even though the subject on which you write (and once more write well) is dark.
Many times through life I have had the same feelings and thoughts, that vain runs through my brothers and sister, we avoid setteling and children are not an option, for me I think I fear the damage my own childhood did, would be inflicted upon the child, I am incappable of love and to run the risk of tainting an innocent life with blood stained in history of the blackness of times gone, is beyond anything that I am prepared to do.
There was a time, a place once where these possibilitys lay before me, and I understand where your coming from and once more read your words almost like a reflection of my own thoughts.
All I can add is that its clear from your thoughts you have changed your future, although you may feel trapped, even lost in the past, carrying chains of yesterday, in many ways you have broken free, for you see and understand, its just your fear that holds you back, light flows through you and from the mistakes and horror of your own world you bring a light forward and I think that any child of yours would only see love, the negatives of your own life would bring forward the posatives for the child. I hope that makes some sense?

8 04 2010

Your words always seem to make sense to me …sometimes as if we are writing on the same page almost.

Children frighten me, the responsibility of now causing someone as much pain as I have been caused is something that the very thought of weighs me down … but my inbuilt clock still ticks away like my very own nature vs nurture battle going on inside my body.

Sometimes I feel like I am on the road to change … sometimes I feel I am less manic, less paranoid, less unforgiving towards myself but other times that calm that I started to believe was my basic human right falls away and I am left feeling as adrift as before. I wish often, for just a little luck when I know deep inside I should wish for the fear to leave me so I can face the world head on and say this is me … this is who I am … and this is where I am going.

Thank you, as always I look forward to seeing your words dance on my page.

3 04 2010

There have been many times I’ve felt (and still feel) wholly unfit to be a parent myself. Whether it’s because of my genes (clinical depression and tendency towards alcoholism to name a couple) or just my general screwed up nature I’ve always felt any kid could do better. Though I may never get married or have kids I still have to remind myself that we are more than our genes and we don’t have to make the same mistakes our parents made.

You know I’m still here for you and I’ll keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

8 04 2010

Tylor … it seems to be way too long since I have read your words, I think of you too often.

Those Genes … I hear you on those Genes … I question myself a lot on how much blame we can place on them, or how much blame we can put on our own fear!

3 04 2010

sounds like you felt pretty stuck your situation. I am sorry you are suffering so much. I am sure you are crying for all o f it..the relationship, the loss of your baby, the way you are feeling about yourself, that you could not be a mom etc.

I think we women are led to believe abortion is a quick fix, and then we find out it is not. Life does not go back to the way it was before, but we can grow and make it better. we can forgive ourselves, and we can have joy.

You should seek out a post abortion program…their are tons of us out there who have felt the same..don;t stay lone in your grief and suffering…you can get work it through… don;t know where you arebut check this out….

8 04 2010

Theresa … Thank you for coming by, your words ring true to me on so many levels. I am sorry that you have been to this same place, felt the same sense of loss and guilt.

3 04 2010

Hello Lou Lou,

Beautiful post.

Perhaps children are God’s way of caring for us.

8 04 2010

Mossy … if I had one fraction of your optimism and faith in life I know I would be walking a much happier path … bless you for everything you are (and everything I want to be)

13 04 2010

Maybe you already are what you want to be and you just imagine that you are not.

3 08 2010

life is tragically full of pain and ugly beauty… your tears are shed for all… I believe from your words that you will one day be at peace, until then simply be as you are… we all belong to this life and vice versa… prayers for you and your angels

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