Today is my supposed ‘due date’.
I woke up feeling fine, following my routine and doing my things. Yet, as the day progressed, my tears are out and becoming non-stop.
I never realized that my ‘due date’ was around Mid Autumn Festival, a special Chinese occasion in which families would spend time together and enjoy the full moon.
As I was walking my dog last night, I saw a big full moon above our heads. It was so bright that no flash night is needed. And then I realized – “oh…it’s the family gathering season…and OMG! S/he was supposed to born around this time….” Then I just burst into tears.
The idea of ‘togetherness’ (from the festival) and the absences of my child became a very brutal reminder to myself. As my dog and I were strolling around the neighborhood, I kept wondering – if my pregnancy was a full term and my child was born this week, this would be the most amazing Mid Autumn Festival…we would be eating mooncake, celebrating ‘togetherness’, and holding our ‘bundle of joy’ into our arms…our house would be full of laughter…
That sounds like a complete fairy tale to me. But here I am, bracing the cold by myself and picking up dog poops in the dark, under the bright full moon.
My mentor, who became a widow few years ago, reminded me about ‘togetherness’. She said “the most important thing is…at least you two are TOGETHER. Nothing more precious than that..”
I know I can choose to count my blessings, be grateful and just act like it is just ‘another day’. But no word can ever ease the pain when your child died inside your womb. No one would ever feel the weight of self-sabotaging thoughts unless you are ‘one of us’.
The pain is endless.