To My Body

Dear Body,

I will never forget the days after my second miscarriage. Swallowing emptiness, a piece of me was lost forever. Pain and fatigue occupied my sleep and my waking. You were speaking to me, but I did not want to hear you. You had let me down. All of me had wanted that baby, all of me except you. Why had you given up? Why had you failed me?

When miscarriages happen, people say stupid things. Things like “It’s better this way.” and “It just wasn’t meant to be.” My mother said, “Your body just wasn’t up to it.” I didn’t want to hear her and I didn’t want to hear you. All of my life, you had never talked back. Now, it seemed you were screaming – screaming and whispering all at once.

The message I felt and heard was all too clear. “You have never cared for me. Why should I care for you? Why would I willingly do anything for you?”

I didn’t know what to say so I slept. I cried. I raged. I slept again. I ate. I cried. I slept again.

We never came to terms, you and I. Life slowly ebbed into normalcy. New things, different things happened. Occupying things.

I was pregnant again and this time, you didn’t give up, for whatever reason. That’s when I knew you had not really let me down. You hadn’t failed me.

Miscarriages are the way of things. They happen. No one knows why.

Years have gone by now.  We never came to terms, you and I.

I wonder, is it time? Most of my life, I’ve trounced you around paying no attention to your messages. I was taught to be that way. I chose to stay that way.

What if you were always talking? What if I had listened?

No matter, now.

What do you say today, my unknown neighbor? What mystery do you hold?

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