This is the last in the series of personal journal entries during the immediate months following my abortion-related child loss. I thought this was going to be an easy way to get through a week's worth of blogging, but it actually turned out to be kind of painful and embarrassing. Baring this much of my personal experience has been like showing up to the grocery store in my underwear.
I never believed in the term "nervous breakdown" but if I had to describe what I initially went through (after the abortion-related loss), I'd say I definately broke down.
About 8 months later I remember (quite vividly) staring out the window of my room and thinking I might like to plant something in the yard. And then I realized, that such a thought indicated that I cared about planting something. It was the first earthly thing that concerned me since the loss. Slowly the color bled back into a black and white world. It was exactly like that scene in "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden" (70's movie) where the girl sneaks off to the bathroom to burn herself with cigarettes for the umpteenth time. She presses a glowing ember into her flesh and for the first time in a long time she flinches. It is a celebratory moment, because she realizes she is starting to feel again.
Before I got to that moment of feeling again, I had to weather those 8 months. It was a terrible period during which I thought about suicide constantly. At one point, I could feel myself drawing to a close and I wrote a letter in case I didn't have time or interest when the actual moment came:
This is one of those cliche suicide notes. If you are reading it, then I have made my exit. I have tried to go on without my child and with the terrible irony of killing the one I love. Each day is an unbearable hell. Grief eats me alive. Life means nothing to me without my child. I tried to stay alive for you, but I only exhausted everyone and reminded you of your pain. I don't feel my husband can go on with his life with me around. He is in agony over the loss and it's all I can talk about. I truly WANT to be with our baby. What I have become can not be changed. I am the mother of a murdered child; my child was murdered by me. Where do you go from there? I don't want to continue. The pain is too much.
:: ashli 10:04 AM # ::