October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.
So, I get to be as honest as possible in an unexpected way without being judged. That means that I get to talk about having a miscarriage from an unwanted pregnancy openly without receiving a phone call from my ex’s girlfriend to let me know that no one cares. Today, I should also say in advance that I don’t care either. Its my day to talk about my true feelings without fear of being hushed or judged. For most women, this month we get to open up and talk about the beautiful souls we lost. It doesn’t matter if we wanted them or not. It happened and nothing will never change that fact.
I always say that a part of my heart is flying in the skies.
When my day is full of darkness, I know that there’s a star shining in my heart. But, at 22, a miscarriage was the best thing that ever happened to me at that moment. Being a staunch supporter of antiabortion, I was willing to go through with it anyway. I didn’t. My body rejected my own flesh, part of my soul and my whole happiness. My body made the choice for me.
[Tweet “My body made the choice for me. #InfantLossAwarenessMonth”]
I have always looked back every minute and hoped things would have been different.
I have wished I could be given the chance to make the decision of keeping it or not. Truth be told… When it happened, I rejoiced that day, got shit faced drunk and made fun of it. 29 days in a month, I go to bed without thinking about it. Then there are days like this where I miss a part of me immensely. Then I remind myself that half of my heart is flying in the sky and I am okay with it. Hoping my Angel has forgiven me for never grieving, I smile and know it’s been taken care of way better than I could.
I know that I would have eventually aborted with the right amount of pressure on myself, without a doubt.
In Africa, it’s frowned upon but I wasn’t ready to be a mother. You know what?? I would have lived with the consequences. I was ready to live with the consequences. Right now? I live with the guilt of that thought. What if my angel heard me and made things easier for me? Isn’t it supposed to be the other way round. Parents making things easier for their children? I mean, is the sleepless nights the ultimate torture I need to realise I am such a selfish human being to even want my own flesh and blood?