So, I don’t usually bring this up at all, but it’s hitting me a bit hard this year. On this date 11 years ago (which happened to be Mother’s Day), I found out I was pregnant as a result of the rape. This year it’s like a punch in the stomach. And I know in a few weeks in July, it will be the anniversary of my miscarriage.
When I found out about the pregnancy, I admit, I was shocked and devastated. I now have a reminder of what had happened to me, and have it always there. I didn’t want that. I felt that would not be able to care for this child without constant reminders. I didn’t tell my family, because then I’d have to tell them about the rape, not something I wanted to do.
It took a little bit of time, and I’m unsure why, but my mind changed. I accepted the fact that I was pregnant, as well as realized that it was not this baby’s fault. This baby that was starting to grow inside of me, was not who hurt me and took away what was me. This could be a chance to make myself better, perhaps get over what had happened, or at least move past it. This could be my silver lining, after all, I was always wanting my own family and children.
Then the bottom dropped out again. At around 14 weeks pregnant, I lost the baby. My world fell apart again. After just realizing that I had a chance to find a bit of happiness and move on a little bit, it disappeared again. I had a bubble of sunshine, that was swallowed back up in the empty. It was after this that I had slipped into the deepest darkest depression that took forever to get out of. You know the one, where I was self harming, attempted suicide, cut myself off from anyone, so on and so on.
So for some reason this year, it’s hitting me hard. I’ve cried a few times this week and felt awful. If I’m feeling like this now, what’s it going to be like in a couple of weeks? I hope the dark doesn’t become too much.