Epitaph

Hello everyone. I know it has been a very long time since I have been on the blog. I hope you are all well. I have been out of the loop for a while and I need to start getting back into the real world. I had a miscarriage in January that caused me to shut down and I forgot all the things that I had started that were important to me. While I am still not dealing the best, I am ready to get back to who I was and who I started to be. I updated my Facebook. I also wanted to post my "epitaph"  that I wrote. It is the first time I have written about the miscarriage and I know that I will not heal unless I start to share and think. So, if you could please read this as a gift to me I would appreciate it. Love, Mags

                It’s amazing to love someone that will never actually be. That’s how I felt about you. I loved you before I knew you were there, I loved you for the short time you were there and I continue to love you long after you were gone.

                When does a person have a soul? It’s a question that has been asked over and over by politicians, religions, activist, feminists and scientists. But I know. It’s the second someone loves you, and it’s all the time before that and all the time after that.  You never have to breathe, or think or feel to have a soul. The person who loves you gives you the soul. And I loved you. I wanted to you. And I still want you.

I only held you in my womb for a short time and only knew you were there for four days before you were gone. Yet I knew you. I’ll never know if you have blues as deep as the sea or brown eyes like me that are like the covers of long epic books that hold hundreds of stories. I’ll never know the curves of your lips and the possibility that would have been spoken upon them. Or if your hair would have been luscious and thick or light and baby fine. But I know you. I know you loved me, I know you wanted to live and you wanted to breathe the same I air I breathe. You wanted to be held, safely and tightly in warm arms. And you would have been. You would have known pain in this life but I would have held you through it. Wherever you walked, I would have been there beside you until my last breath and beyond.

I don’t know why you couldn’t stay but I don’t blame you. My body was not prepared to be your vessel and my body had to let you go. My heart and my mind will always hold you, even though my body slowly, traumatically bled you out. I pray it was peaceful for you and that you are wrapped in some warm place now. That you didn’t exist to be just because I failed to let you live.  I cannot imagine that you would be created, so beautiful even though unseen to fade away like the sun on a warm day never to rise again on some other horizon.

There’s no ceremony to say good-bye to you. There’s stone that says “here lies a beautiful soul.” There’s no black dress and tear sodden tissues left over. You are nothing to the rest of the world, but me. To me you are still everything.

I have prayed for a lot of things in my life, but I never knew the meaning of prayer until I curled my body tight around you, and begged for you stay. I pleaded with whatever god wanted to listen. I prayed to you as if you could hear, promising anything as long as you would stay with me. I promised you knowledge, all that I know and all that I would learn for you. I promised you art and color since that’s what you would have given me. I promised you travel to anywhere your fancy would take you, because I know the taste of culture in the air. I promised you music; that you would know the sweet simple notes that could move you to tears or to smiles or to dancing. I promised you love. The love to keep you and hold you, the love to protect you, the love to kiss you, the love to teach you and the love to one day let you go, readied into the world.

But you’re gone. Perhaps there will be another, but you will be my first love. You will always be the hole in my heart. I will always miss you so much that longing will not be an emotion but a physical pain. I will always feel you and will dream of you. I know someday I will have to let you go, to take away the black veil of mourning from my eyes and see the world as full again. You died in the dead of winter, but I will plant you into the early spring so that the seasons will carry you on the wind instead of stirring and stuck into my nightmares. You need to know that you are always loved and are always wanted. My empty womb is your epitaph and my empty heart is your sepulcher.