These moments she does not forget

Every year on that day she relives the hell. The torment knots inside her womb as she remembers. They say time heals all wounds. Bullshit. Whoever said that never went through pain the way she did. The way others like her did. Waking up empty and numb like a girl on crack. Time heals nothing. Mends nothing. The memories remain vivid etched in her mind, that no amount of therapy, alcohol, love and affection can erase.

When she became pregnant for the 4th time, all she could think was "shit, not another mouth to feed." She went through her pregnancy dragging her feet, thinking only of the hardships ahead. The fact that her youngest child couldn't even walk yet. Her marriage falling apart. What people would think. Later on, she would hate herself for these thoughts. Mind fuck herself over and over for not welcoming this beautiful gift. After 3 children, she became complacent. Doctor's check ups were few. She was sick more often, but neglected to look after herself and not that there was anyone else to look after her anyway. She choked it down. There was no time to be sick. That was for the weak.

Her doctor said she was fine, the picture of perfect health and an expecting mother. The child was healthy, heart beat was normal and she could look forward to a beautiful bouncy baby girl in a few months time. Slowly she attuned herself to expect that beautiful girl. She talked to her every day. Told her in no uncertain terms what she expected from her when she turned 18. What she knew she would look like. How she would bond her broken family together. How she would remind her mother to live.

She felt her child kick almost endlessly. Every waking moment the child reminded her that she was there with her. "See you soon Mummy," she said with every bump and kick. She couldn't for the life of her remember when she last felt her remind her that she was there. That she was coming. She was so busy with work, the other three children, that she forgot.

These moments she would relive. Feeling the pains of childbirth, her excitement soon punctured by the doctor telling her that there was no heartbeat. That the child was dead. When had she last felt her kick? When dammit when? These moments she would relive. That she would still have to deliver her baby. Her dead baby. These moments. Pushing her child out knowing the pain was for nothing, These moments when she felt God forsake her. When she held her lifeless perfect child in her arms, against her chest, still warm from her body, yet cold and soulless. Oh these moments she wanted to die. She wanted to stop the pain gushing through her like a burst pipe. Gripping her throat, choking, choking ever so slowly.

Three years later. She relives hell again. And prays that her Angel is in God's arms. That her Angel does not forget her. That her Angel forgives her for being complacent. For not accepting her in the beginning. For all the mistakes she made which could have possibly been the reason for her death.

She would never forget this day. But she prayed that perhaps one day, it wouldn't hurt so damn much.

Happy Birthday my sweet love.