The prelude to my poem which I wrote after the birth of my children. |
What exactly am I doing here? What do I think I can achieve putting my pen to paper or fingers to keys? I don’t know what’s real anymore, I don’t think I can go on living the life I have fallen into. That’s how I feel, that I’ve fallen into this life and these relationships. I keep thinking I will wake up soon and it will all be gone, my children my partner, my home. It just can’t be real I can’t feel it. I search myself for some sort of emotion but I feel numb. I feel as though I am medicated, but I am not. I feel sad but not much else. Sadness born from frustration and anger with the world, with my partner but most of all with myself. I love my children, I must do, but I don’t feel it. I would never tell them that. My beautiful daughter. I remember back to my pregnancy and the childbirth. I remember taking it all in my stride because I felt no emotion. Although I felt loss, a loss from the past maybe. Something underlying that I had refused to look in the face of and deal with when it happened. I felt that I would lose her so I didn’t allow myself to get attached. As the weeks went on I convinced myself that something would happen and she would be taken away from me somewhere along the line. There was no way I would be so lucky as to keep something so precious. When they told me of her distress and rushed us into theatre all I could think was ‘is it now?’ When she was finally born and she didn’t cry, I held my breath and prepared myself for the worst, and that was the longest few minutes of my life. Then I heard her cry and I allowed the emotions to surface. Machines beeped and freaked out and people’s faces told me something wasn’t right. They called my name and asked me what was going on, was I okay? What was happening?. So I had to put the emotion back in it’s box, I calmed myself down, detached myself again, the machines stopped beeping, the concern fell from their faces but I felt numb. I was unable to let myself go, I didn’t want to cause a fuss. It was a long 3 days in hospital, but I enjoyed being with my baby, I enjoyed the visitors and the attention. Then we went home and there was nobody to greet us only an untidy room and no milk for tea. I felt cheated again, I felt as if that was it and I came back down to earth with a bump. I convinced myself it was just baby blues and that it would pass. But it didn’t. It didn’t pass, instead it became “the norm”. I was offered counselling after the birth of my second child and I thought perhaps that would help me understand. Instead it made me feel worse and each session seemed like just an excuse for me to cry into someone else’s tissues for a change. Nothing profound, no reasoning. When I felt brave I’d tell her how I really felt, that I felt no real bond with my child. It was explained away, apparently the kind of behaviour exhibited by someone who had lost a child in the past, but that wasn’t me was it? I refused to let myself think about that. I’d convinced myself it was nothing it was too early to be anything near a baby when I bled. It was something that changed my life without asking me first. It was something which haunts me still, and I feel like a fraud. How dare I mourn for someone I had never even met. Did I have more love for that ‘idea of a child’ than I had for my own flesh and blood child? Did I wish that I had seen that baby on the screen in the hospital? Sadness washed over me again even though I should have been happy. I had accepted the proposal in some sort of desire to feel better, misguided it seems. I felt as though if I tried to live the life I would feel the life, it hasn’t worked. I still have my bad days, years after the events I write about them. The emotion fresh in my mind as the day it all happened. The beginning of the end. The Poem: Alone I'm sitting in my room Alone in pain and fear Dreading what I'm feeling Dreading to make it clear I knew I couldn't keep it Thats only if it's there A life, that part of you and me I wasn't sure you'd care The pain it started suddenly Reality, tears hit home I wasn't sure of what to do So down and all alone Was this the way I wanted? Was this my wish come true? Was this future I was carrying Or just me feeling blue? The arguements came quickly The pain too much to bear Eventually I told you How little did you care? The two words that I thought of I'm not sure if you said Did you even say, "I'm sorry" And mean, "I'm glad it's dead" I wish that I had had the strength To tell you what I feared Instead I've left it up to now Too late by many years. |