My trembling hands brace the walls as I shift down the hall. Pain searing through my abdomen, anchoring in my heart. My mind had finally succumbed to sleep and now the ache was soaring ahead of my last dose of medication.
No need to wake my husband, immersed in sleep he so desperately needs.
I can get to the bathroom if I just breathe, deep in, deep out. I can get there.
I had almost made it but that door, a sliver of light streaming through, somehow it was ajar and I could not stop my eyes.
Through a beckoning gap I can see them piled high.
Sturdy boxes, some covered in rattles and ribbon and pastels, some just cardboard now, opened by eager hands. Graco and Playtex and Pampers and Huggies, stacked half hazardly, leaning in wait.
There were specks of baby blues and trails of fluffy pinks. Bottles and bibs, hand woven blankets and freshly folded sheets patiently hovering over a guest bed no longer for purpose.
My heavy feet try to move from this space, pull the door closed, return to dulled pain and induced sleep.
I am anchored there, my empty belly, wrapped tight, throbbing under welcomed pressure, my empty eyes peering into a room of naive hope.
The pull is magnetic, the door drifts open as I lean my exhaustion against it. I shift painfully into this space. Enveloped into the beauty of all that was given and the starkness of what had been taken.
My shaking fingers trace the weaves of gift baskets, piled with pink and pink and blue. No way to repackage life now.
I sink into the possibilities, trace cards of congratulations and marvel at the foreignness of these items in my home. No one yet to claim them.
Buried in the generosity and well-wishes of beloved family and friends, reality weeps with me. So much of this to be returned, unused, and the rest? Would it ever cradle dozing infants and bouncing toddlers? Wipe clean messy faces and curious hands? My cold face touches the rough fibers of carpet.
I lie in wait, just as the untouched bounty engulfing me.
Unable to pick my throbbing self up I wallow in the unknown.
My heart as empty as the room full.
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Leigh Ann (The Twin says
"I lie in wait, just as the untouched bounty engulfing me.
Unable to pick my throbbing self up I wallow in the unknown."
That is so powerful. The unknown is so scary. This was such a beautiful piece, Jessica. Thank you so much for sharing it.
You write so beautifully.
I feel my heart cry with that moment.
Gorgeous and heartbreaking.
HI Jessica, you literally moved to tears… there is so much I wish to write… i wish i could give you a hug at this instant. This whole piece is so terrifying beyond imagination, probably some of worst fears in life. There are some of the most beautiful lines you have written here and i think you have achieved a great feat in writing everything down as it is.
By Word of Mouth Mus says
These glimpses we have into your life, the words you write and the pain we share …
Its my hope that with each post, a little piece of the hurting is set free, bit by bit.
Leaving you only peaceful, knowing that one day …
you will claim all those pieces of your heart and be whole once more.
Thank you sweet Jessica 🙂
I really, really like your final line. What a perfect comparison!
I'm in tears. Literally in tears. Yet again, I just want to wrap you in a hug and tell your then hurt self that the future will be brighter and there will be messy faces and diapered butts. This was beautifully written, my friend.
I cannot BELIEVE you wrote this while sick!
Thank you so much for your words and your support, as always. For some reason I think the sickness helped, I wrote in some sort of stupor and just hit publish.
Branson Merrill says
Powerful indeed. I wish I could just hug you sometimes… ehugs at least have been sent your way. I hope these writing exercises are as powerful in your life as they are in the lives of those you are touching.
You know, they have been powerful for me, I have told a lot of stories that are too painful to speak out loud. Letting them go into the world has been healing in a way I could not have imagined. Thank you for always reading and for the hugs.
whoa! That was so powerful. I could feel every word.
WOW!! There is so much emotion there.
This is absolutely breathtaking. I didn't just feel like I was there with you, I felt almost as if I actually WAS you, I felt your pain. Great job!
So moving. Beautifully painful.
Julie Gardner says
So detailed and heartbreaking. I really did feel like I was there with you.
So much given, so much taken away.
What a moving paradox…
I DID feel like I was there with you!
Beautiful in your pain. Just beautiful.
Jennie B says
"No way to repackage life now." Heartwrenchingly beautiful.
Hugs, Jessica. I know this must have been tough to write.
You always bring us with you, whereever your words go. Thank you.
The JackB says
I like this line "My mind had finally succombed to sleep and now the ache was soaring ahead of my last dose of medication." It paints a strong picture. Incidentally you have a small spelling error, it should be "succumbed." Still beautiful though.
Thank you for pointing out the type, I HATE when I do that!
Agonizing yet beautifully written!
Elena @NaynaDub says
As always, fantastic writing. You have such an amazing way to let people in and really show all that was happening in these moments in your life. I always look forward to read your posts for the TRDC prompts.
Megan (Best of Fates says
And beautifully written.
Jessica, I'm always amazed at how well you convey your experience. Usually it's the kind of thing where I say, "I can't imagine…" but with your beautiful writing, I almost can.
Just heartwrenching.. I cannot fathom that kind of pain hun but you brought me pretty close
I always love your writing.
I could see you curl up and I wanted to curl up and cry with you.
You are wonderful!
You accomplished the prompts goal of being right there with you. Wow. Your writing is really amazing. Thanks for sharing.