Coming to Terms With the Miscarriage

Whenever I see a Toyota Prius, I think about how much gas we saved driving to Northern California. Which in turn, reminds me of all the beautiful memories we had from there. I think, if we would have had our son, he could have been a month old at the time. I'm pretty sure it was a boy because we both said we wanted one. One month old and he already knew a different part of the state; what a bright future he would had had. I know he would have been the best of you and me.

You said you don't think it was a miscarriage, but I don't think that is right. We were not playing it safe in that era of our lives. The way you described it sounded too much like one to not be.

You also have this funny way of suppressing traumas. I think because of your brokenness; because of everything you had to endure in your life. My brokenness is different; it's the type that doesn't let you sleep at night and beats your self-worth to a bloody pulp. It's the kind that never let's you live things down and creates a bitter, stone-cold heart.

I wasn't mad at you! I was infuriated with myself!

It was for all I put you through, for all the forgiveness I felt I didn't deserve.

"Had you not gone through enough?" I would ask myself. I made myself so useless, pitiful and inexcusable that your kind words meant little to me. A dead child in a Las Vegas casino bathroom stall is not what a man puts a woman he loves through. I felt irresponsible and unfit to be your boyfriend, much less your husband. That is why I changed. Well, one of the reasons. The others are for other confessions.
I miss him, this unborn son. I see his face in my pets eyes' & in little boys on playgrounds. I sometimes hear his laughter at work. I would have taken care of him to the best of my abilities; I would have held our little family together with whatever strength I had at the time.

You forgot about it, left it as it was(you were so scared that day). I let it consume me and let the guilt make me sour and careless. My uncertainty about children is no more; I know I want another shot at fatherhood one day. I hope, one day, you can come to terms with the past and no longer suppress it; but, rather, forgive and forget it. Perhaps pray for his soul, I find it helps often.