A Mother Never Forgets

I remember it so clearly...

It's odd how the worst things in a person's life are the things we hold on to the most. We grasp at it, hold to it as if we need it to survive. Some days I get like this. Some days, like today, all I can do is sit and cry and wonder why I had to experience this; why it was the baby my fiance and I wanted and loved so much that Fate decided to take from me.

It was September 28th, 2012. I had been spending most of the past three weeks at my friend Sadie's house because of it being too stressful at home. My parents were conservative Christians, and I, being an Agnostic Atheist myself, did not get along with them anymore. I was becoming more and more depressed, sullen, and sharp tempered, and I felt this difference within me; not particularly my mind, but my body just felt... different somehow. I had never felt this way before, but put it to rest in my mind thinking it had to do with the completely new level of stress that I had recently came to regularly dealing with. My fiance had recently guessed I was pregnant, and we often fantasized together about having children and how we would raise them. Even though, as far as we knew, it hadn't been conceived as of yet, we loved our baby with all of our hearts.

That day, I came home from school (I'm a Super Senior and eighteen years old) and wandered about the house looking for something to amuse myself with. I finally settled upon organizing and ironing the fabric I had collected in my years of learning to sew (I still do avidly), and went to find the ironing board and iron.

When I had gathered all of my ironing equipment, I set it up in the kitchen and began with my task. My sisters and our foster sister were running about the house screaming like little banshees; I could already feel the familiar stress- induced headache building in my skull. Pausing my work to massage my aching temples, I wondered how I had become so stressed as of late.

I reached for the iron again, then stopped. I was experiencing something completely alien. I reached down to my stomach, and almost as soon as my fingertips touched the fabric of my shirt, I felt a sharp, almost twisting sensation in my lower core. I clutched at my stomach, hurriedly and shakily turned the iron off, and ran to the bathroom.

Seeing blood upon further inspection, I dismissed it as the period I hadn't had in a month and a half (also dismissed as symptoms of great stress), but as I began to clean the blood from my body, it kept coming. But it wasn't what I was used to seeing; it was a mixture of both blood and an odd sort of clear fluid. I stopped what I was doing and realized what it was: a miscarriage.

I immediately texted my fiance. "Shawn, there is something wrong." I said, impatiently awaiting his reply. Soon the screen flashed; he was calling me.

"Hon, what's wrong?" he asked with a tone of great concern.

"Sweetheart... I was pregnant. I..." I stumbled over my words, trying to think of some way to explain this to him.

I heard his sharp intake of breath over the phone. "Was?" he asked; you could hear the lump in his throat. Dear god, this hurt so much to hurt him like this.

I started to cry. "I lost our baby. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! It's all my fault..." I sobbed to him.

He began to soothe me; even through his own pain he tried with all his strength to end mine. "No, sweetheart, it wasn't your fault. These things happen. Babies... die sometimes.

"You're sure this isn't a period?" he asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

I just continued to sob, louder yet. He didn't say another word; he sat on the phone with me until I was able to get a grip on my emotions.

Two days later, I was able to visit him. As soon as I looked into his eyes, so laced with mournfulness were they, I began to cry. For the next hour, we held each other and just cried.

This was three months ago now. The pain is still here; I may not be aware of it every second of the day, but I do wonder what it would be like if I had carried the baby longer. I'd be four months along now...

I don't know if it was a boy or a girl, but I like to think it was a girl. I see her everywhere; in the flowers that died for the winter soon after she did; in the winter sun that warms the earth each passing day she isn't here to see it; every time I look at Shawn and I in the mirror I see her. We loved her, even though we never met her.

The years will go on. I will grow and mature and shall one day have more children, and I shall love them. But I will always love the little girl I never got to meet, because a mother never forgets.

Aminathius Aminathius
18-21, F
Dec 10, 2012