#ideomix

[mightbelola]

Mostly Bitter

No one here at the airport knows that I had just lost my twins at birth three days ago. No one here knows I’m tearing my back wearing this brace thingy around my waist just so my back would stop collapsing because my legs are falling off. My head is about to explode, and I just want us to get out of here. My family thinks I’m crazy for leaving, but I hope they understand after all of that.

It’s bittersweet. Bitter, mostly.

We cried yesterday. We cried our heart out. When he cried like that, I realized how it had hit him just as hard as it hit me. They were his children too, you know. He was so happy, he was so positive the girls were going to be healthy, and they were, and that in probably three months from now, we’re going to have twenty fingers, twenty toes swaddled in a travel cot, all dressed up in twin strollers, strolling around the park, two baby carriers over his shoulders, one on his front, one on his back. I would be with my camera, can’t decide whether to film it all for memories or just live in the present because the present would’ve been too beautiful for us to take our eyes away. He was so happy dreaming about it all and just so, so quickly, our dream turned out to be our worst nightmare.

We went to see the place where they’re resting. He held my hand so tightly because he knew how nervous I was. For a moment, I felt completely disconnected. I was trying to feel them, but I couldn’t. One moment they’re kicking me so hard, and one sudden moment later, they’re gone. The only connection we had was that one thing, their kicks. When I can’t feel them anymore, I feel so lost, so empty.

I saw their graves, just two stones without names, and my head went blank. I didn’t know what to say.

But,

”I’m really sorry you had to go. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold you longer. You were there, weren’t you? Why can’t we keep you? Why did you have to go too soon?”

I don’t know.

Only if I knew.

I guess I could’ve known. I could’ve known not to do too much. I didn’t know how too much was.

Should’ve just stayed in bed, shouldn’t have done all that. Shouldn’t have run errands, should’ve cooked the cats. Maybe, I shouldn’t have come back after all. Maybe it was all my fault. Maybe all of it was wrong.

I still don’t know.

All I know is that, if I want to start over, I have to know what went wrong, or why, or will we be okay again?

Because right now we’re a mess.

Everyone at home keeps reminding me to rest, take it easy, don’t do anything, just lie down, drink tea, sleep, live.

I feel like I just woke up from death. I feel like a ghost.

I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.

Back in Medalla I had it all figured out, but I’m back here, still can’t decide whether to take a rest and fix my broken back, or to start cleaning the kitchen counter, or the boxes in the bedroom, clothes on the toilet floor, or to unpack the bags, or to do dishes, or sleep, or eat, or shower, or cry. So many possibilities, none of them interesting.

I don’t know when we’ll be okay again.

“But hey, I wish I could stay awake to welcome you. I was so weak I passed out on your birthday. But when we last said goodbye, we stood there under that black umbrella in the sun, looking back at you, your dad and I. How are you real? It feels impossible. Sad you had to go too soon, good thing is we will never forget you. I hope you know that I will think of you everyday and every night until the moment I die. And even after I die, when this is all over, I hope I know how to get to you. I hope we will see each other again. I really hope so because how do I love you forever already when we had just met? I thought you were mine for a while. I thought I had you. But I really can’t lose you now so, please come find me later, if you can.”