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Thursday, February 4, 2016

Ten Monologues For Women: Monologue #9-They Never Know What To Say








My friends want to comfort me but, they don’t know how to do so. No one wants to talk about it with me. I suppose they feel a little guilty because they all have healthy children. I was the first one to get married but, the last one to get pregnant.

My career took up most of my life and Juan was starting his food truck business so, I had no choice but, to work a lot of hours to cover his half of the bills. It’s only been in the last couple of years that his business has turned a profit. So, we decided that now was finally the time for us to start a family.

But, it wasn’t that easy. I am a supportive wife whom stood by her husband so that he could live his dream. Now, I am being punished because I waited too long to have kids. Of course, my husband doesn’t see it that way. He’s convinced that the Universe will bless us with a child when it’s ready to do so. He’s quite the optimist. I used to think that way but, that was before the miscarriage. 
Is it possible for someone’s life to remain frozen in time?

I remember how great it felt to be pregnant. I felt as though anything were possible. Having life grow inside of you is a heady rush. I started building my identity around being a mom-to be. I joined the online groups and started furnishing the nursery.

Then, sometime around my fifth month,  I knew that something was wrong.

 I started experiencing pain in my abdomen. Randy rushed me to the hospital and that’s when the contractions started. I knew that I was losing the baby. I felt so helpless and poor Randy. He blamed himself for not getting me to the hospital sooner. The doctor said that there was nothing that could have been done. Sometimes, women just miscarry for no reason at all.

No reason at all. Those weren’t exactly the most reassuring words in the world. I needed a reason. I needed to make sense of why it happened. I felt as though the only way to move on was to know exactly what went wrong. I missed my groups and every day that I walked past the nursery, it felt as though I was getting stabbed in the heart. It was so unfair.

 I joined one of those support groups for women whom have had miscarriages. It helps a lot but, I think that this emptiness can only be cured by getting pregnant and having a baby. I am keeping my fingers crossed.

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