Written August 31, 2003.

//

She bit her lip. She stared
straight up at the ceiling which
she couldn’t see due to the
pitch black darkness of the
room. She closed her eyes
tighter, tighter, tighter still,
until stars of pink and white
sparkled and shone on the black
canvas. No avail. A tear managed
to seep its way out of the corner
of her left eye, making a lonesome
trail down her cheek. Giving up
the battle, she opened her eyes
to see his head resting on her
ever growing belly; his finger
gently tapping, hoping for response.
She felt a movement from inside
as the baby kicked his face with
a might as fierce as ever. She was
unsure if the giggling that followed
came from his mouth or if she merely
imagined her unborn child laughing
at the game the two had formed.

She felt hideous. She felt she needed
locked away in the deepest, darkest
dungeon for a series of seventeen
lifetime sentences. Anyone with eyes
could see the love he had for
this child; why else would he so
enjoy being kicked square on in the
face? A bond had been formed. And
she was about to break it. So cruel
she felt. She tried to distance herself.
Baseball. Stock market. Pistachios.
She thought of everything. And nothing.
But she knew, deep inside, that moment
would be forever engraved in her mind.

©2003 jenna leigh (maiden name)

–

I will forever feel the guilt over the anguish that I caused J. He went along with whatever I decided but he grew to love the Munchkin long before she was born. He supported my parenting plan, ready to step up and be a father figure in her life. He supported my adoption plan, ready to hold me as I wept for the loss of my firstborn. He brought me Frosties when I craved them. He took me to appointments and once to the hospital with preterm labor issues.

I will forever remember his written words after she was born and he missed seeing her in the hospital. (It was an Army drill weekend. He didn’t arrive until after they had taken her to the nursery for the night. They also didn’t tell me that I could have her in my room.) I remember his face that evening; sad, unsure of what to say or do but glad that everyone was physically fine. He knew I had been in pain for months. His written words showed his grief; I knew they had bonded but I didn’t know to what extreme until I read those words after coming home from the hospital.

I felt guilty. Sad. Angry with myself.

Some ask why I didn’t parent when J was willing to be there for us both. It’s simple really. I was trying to make my parenting decisions separate from J because I didn’t know, for certain, whether or not he would be there. Let me rephrase: I didn’t think J was the up-and-leaving type. However, even before Munchkin’s biological father decided he wanted nothing to do with us, my track record regarding men and their staying power was not very good. In fact, it sucked. So, especially coming off of the blow from being told to “deal with it on my own,” I was trying to suck it up, be a grown up and take care of my own “problems” without relying on others.

Hindsight is 20/20. Things could have been vastly different. One night, over dinner (at a resaurant that literally killed three people in Western PA), he said, “I wish I could adopt her for you.” I cried into my enchiladas.

My therapist will be working with me on the guilt I feel for causing him pain. The agencies don’t tell you about the emotional destruction you cause those close to you. I wish I had known. I’m sorry, My Love. I’m just glad you love Munchkin even though she isn’t with us. Thank you for loving us both.