I feel betrayed..
I looked after you for 10 whole months. I treated you like the holy grail. I ate well. I didn’t drink. I abstained from anything and everything that they said you shouldn’t eat or drink. All the things I love – Pate, Camembert, runny yolks.. I worked out up until 7 months. I started walking. I conceded to you and ate more than I ever have before. I took vitamins and had the requisite jabs. I hypno-birthed and attended antenatal. I even started drinking water. You had it good before, but for 10 months you had it better than you ever had. I thought we were partners. I thought that if I treated you well, if I looked after you and worked with you, you would work with me when the day came. I embraced you and your changes. I loved you and marveled at how amazing you were. I was excited, nervous and anxious all at the same time about what lay at the end of our journey, but I trusted you. I thought that if you could do all this with such ease and grace then we would be fine. I felt at ease, a quiet confidence.
So why then did you let me down. How did we go from such calm to such confusion. I can’t quite figure it out. My mind is still fuzzy. I can’t recall an exact sequence of events, and I am upset at you. I am upset because I thought we were supposed to work together. I am upset because I didn’t get the memo. Because if I did, I would have prepared myself better. I would have done certain things differently. I am upset because I cannot recall in perfect detail, one of the most important events in my life. I am upset because I have to rely on someone else to fill in the gaps, and I am upset because it makes me sad to think about it.
But how can I be mad at you. Because at the end of it all you gave me the most wonderful and precious gift, a daughter. I just don’t understand how such happiness can be tinged with such sadness. I feel disappointed. Disappointed because we couldn’t do something that we should have been able to do, you and I. Instead we needed assistance and intervention, and not just a little, but quite a lot. I’m confused, because at the time it was the right thing to do, and if the same sequence of events occurred I may very well have made the same choices. It felt right at the time. But then why do I feel so scared by the experience. Why then can I not bring myself to think about it. Why then, five months on does it all still feel so raw. Why then do I feel so betrayed..