I Miss Her....
I miss my daughter. I know, I never even got to meet her, but I miss her nonetheless. She's my daughter that I never got to meet. Oh God, where is she?? I want her back. I can look back on my past and think about decisions and actions I could've done differently, and my little girl would still be here, alive and well and growing and being loved. On days like today - Mother's Day - I really hurt.
It hurts and angers me all the things those closest to me do when I talk about her. I get patronizing looks and words from friends, family and acquaintances. I have friends - christian friends - who try to offer me words of comfort at times, all the while holding their unspoken opinions that somehow it's a woman's right and privilege to kill her unborn child. The very ones who are held up as having the greatest love on earth - a mother's love for her child - are the very ones who will insist it's their God-given right to kill their unborn babes, as if their convenience and lives are more important than that little child they carry. Even the girl from work that I'm so interested in has flat out said to me that she doesn't think my child was even a real human. What am I even doing trying to get to know her??? I'll never be with someone who feels that way.
I had a friend who was on the verge of spitting out some really mean words about my daughter or about me not really being a father, when she bit her tongue before saying it. But I pretty much knew what she was going to say. She didn't have to say it. Some things you just know. It hurt. I try to forgive those who are so calloused and evil in their views, but it's difficult sometimes, especially when it comes from those you've trusted.
Sometimes I wonder how life might be right now if I only wouldn't have been too selfish to just stay down in Florida when Lina came along. How might that have changed things? I kick myself at times for not making the decisions that might have saved her life. A few different choices on my part, and she would've been with her Mama today celebrating Mother's Day with her perhaps. What have I done?
I've tried in the 2 years since it happened to share with family members what it feels like. It's almost never a good experience. With the exception perhaps of my Dad and Mom, it's like my daughter just doesn't count. She just wasn't real enough. No headstone at a cemetary, no nothing. Just the emptiness of knowing she was inches from my hands and face at one point, but then gone. Sucked out of her Mommy's tummy and then her twisted and broken little body thrown in some biohazard waste can, to be incinerated somewhere along the line. Thrown out like the cigarrette butts tossed on the ground. How can anyone say she wasn't a real person when she had little hands and feet, a face, a brain, a heart, eyes, ears, nose??? How can they say that???
My little girl, I miss her. I don't really care that I'm repeating myself over and over. This blog has become where I go when I grieve her death. The people that I am willing to share this part of my life with are few and far between. It's the rare person who actually seems to acknowledge her realness and the legitimacy of my pain. Why? Why God?
Empty cliches, glossed-over looks, calloused words, hateful words towards her. This is what I receive when I mention her too often or in too much detail. She just doesn't count in this world.
But she does to me. And I miss her....
It hurts and angers me all the things those closest to me do when I talk about her. I get patronizing looks and words from friends, family and acquaintances. I have friends - christian friends - who try to offer me words of comfort at times, all the while holding their unspoken opinions that somehow it's a woman's right and privilege to kill her unborn child. The very ones who are held up as having the greatest love on earth - a mother's love for her child - are the very ones who will insist it's their God-given right to kill their unborn babes, as if their convenience and lives are more important than that little child they carry. Even the girl from work that I'm so interested in has flat out said to me that she doesn't think my child was even a real human. What am I even doing trying to get to know her??? I'll never be with someone who feels that way.
I had a friend who was on the verge of spitting out some really mean words about my daughter or about me not really being a father, when she bit her tongue before saying it. But I pretty much knew what she was going to say. She didn't have to say it. Some things you just know. It hurt. I try to forgive those who are so calloused and evil in their views, but it's difficult sometimes, especially when it comes from those you've trusted.
Sometimes I wonder how life might be right now if I only wouldn't have been too selfish to just stay down in Florida when Lina came along. How might that have changed things? I kick myself at times for not making the decisions that might have saved her life. A few different choices on my part, and she would've been with her Mama today celebrating Mother's Day with her perhaps. What have I done?
I've tried in the 2 years since it happened to share with family members what it feels like. It's almost never a good experience. With the exception perhaps of my Dad and Mom, it's like my daughter just doesn't count. She just wasn't real enough. No headstone at a cemetary, no nothing. Just the emptiness of knowing she was inches from my hands and face at one point, but then gone. Sucked out of her Mommy's tummy and then her twisted and broken little body thrown in some biohazard waste can, to be incinerated somewhere along the line. Thrown out like the cigarrette butts tossed on the ground. How can anyone say she wasn't a real person when she had little hands and feet, a face, a brain, a heart, eyes, ears, nose??? How can they say that???
My little girl, I miss her. I don't really care that I'm repeating myself over and over. This blog has become where I go when I grieve her death. The people that I am willing to share this part of my life with are few and far between. It's the rare person who actually seems to acknowledge her realness and the legitimacy of my pain. Why? Why God?
Empty cliches, glossed-over looks, calloused words, hateful words towards her. This is what I receive when I mention her too often or in too much detail. She just doesn't count in this world.
But she does to me. And I miss her....
posted by wwiiguy at 10:49 PM
1 Comments:
Shan,
I know how much you miss her, and she was very much alive. I know i can't really understand the loss of a child but I really can't think of a worse pain. You know you have changed me about a lot of the feelings i have had about abortion. I always pray for Lina and I remember that she meant everything to you and I am sorry you have to go through this pain. But she is waiting for you and you will be with her when your time comes. I love you, you are one of my closest friends and I wish I could take the pain away. This is not cliche and I am not trying to be patronizing. Remember her and love her and when your time comes go be with her.
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