When the Past Haunts the Present

I’m going to share a story with you today. A story I never intended to tell. A story that I thought I had put behind me. Coped with. Put into my past and locked it there. A story that is consuming me today with ‘what ifs’ and ‘if onlys’
It happened 6 years ago. Almost to the date. I chose not to tell people then. And that’s my first ‘what if’ What if I had reached out for help back then. Maybe I could’ve saved some hurt. Not just my own. But the hurt of others too.
6 years ago I was in the military. I injured my knee and I chose to release. My biggest reason for choosing to release was that I was pregnant. And I didn’t like the level of care I was receiving. They were refusing to even give me confirmation of pregnancy. I was told the pregnancy test was ‘inconclusive’ whatever that means.
My boyfriend at the time denied it was his. Said I must have been cheating on him. (He was seeing someone else on the side, so I guess he felt I must have been to)
Because of his denial I didn’t want to tell anyone else. I felt that him and I should work through it first.
So I released. I went home to my Dr. My Dr decided to do an ultrasound in office to confirm the pregnancy. I seen my baby moving around, their little heart beating. He couldn’t date the pregnancy so he ordered an ultrasound for me for the next day.
That night I got into a fight with my boyfriend. I was mad that he was accusing me of cheating on him. I knew he was seeing someone else. But I didn’t tell him I knew. I wanted things to work out.
The next day I went into the ultrasound and there was no heartbeat. The heartbeat that seemed so strong the day before was gone. I don’t have words for how I felt. It was a Friday, the Dr told me they were going to give me the weekend to miscarry naturally and scheduled a D&C for Monday morning. That evening I told my boyfriend. (He wasn’t in the same city as I was at the time) he told me I was making it up. And that I was doing it for attention… I didn’t tell anyone else. No one knew I was pregnant. Why would they believe me?
Over the weekend my boyfriend and I ended things. Well he did. Through an email. He said he stopped loving me. Months ago. He had found someone else.
My body never expelled the baby. I went in for a D&C Monday morning. I agreed to allow an intern to do the procedure. I didn’t know it took almost 3 times as long as it should have. I was numb. I was alone.
I was lost.
A few weeks later I still hadn’t stopped bleeding. My Dr did an internal ultrasound. He informed me that there was a lot of scaring on my uterus. He wasn’t sure how it would heal. If I would ever carry a child.
I don’t remember much of the next few months. I know there was a lot of alcohol. And things I’m not proud of. A lot of alcohol… A lot of nights… And days… I have no memory of.
Then one morning I was going through my phone and found text messages between a friend and I. (The same friend I just went to visit in Edmonton this past December) I admitted to things in those drunk texts that I hadn’t admitted to myself. Reading them sober… It was scary. I didn’t know what I was doing to myself. I called my dad, I asked him to pick me up. I didn’t tell him or my mom what was going on. Just that I didn’t feel well. I spent a couple days locked in my room ‘sick’. I think my parents knew something was going on, but as close as I had always been to them… I didn’t know how to talk to them.
Around this time I had started talking to hubs. I told him a little about what was happening, but most he found out later. I started seeing a therapist. I slowly got over everything. So I thought.
I went to have four healthy beautiful babies. I healed better then the Dr even predicted I would.
My physical scars healed. And I thought I had healed my emotional scars too. Put it behind me. Overcame it. Dealt with the emotions. Put it all into a tidy little box and locked it up. Gotten past the overwhelming feelings of loss and heartbreak.
And yet…. Here I am. Haunted by the memories of that little heart beating, followed by being told that little being… Wouldn’t be. Haunted by nightmares. Anxieties. Fears.
Holding my babies a little tighter and thanking God a little louder for my blessings. For those four sweet, amazing people he blessed me with.
I don’t know why. Why I’m torturing myself this way. What triggered these what if thoughts. What if… What if… A million what ifs, I don’t even know where to start with them, and I don’t know how to make them end. How do I put these memories back… Back into that little compartment. Still a part of me, but not consuming me.
I’m so blessed, so lucky to have my babies… And I know everything happens for a reason, that baby, wasn’t meant for this world. But… What if I had done something… Anything… Different. Would it be better? What is better? Where would I be?
I wish I could stop torturing myself with these thoughts… I wish so many things.
Maybe this is something that I will never leave locked in that little box of memories. Maybe its something that will walk with me forever. I don’t know. I just. Don’t. Know.