Story of a Failed Mind Control Subject

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Chapter 27

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Chapter 27
The March of Death

I have sort of skipped a part of the whole thing, that needs to be addressed. I haven’t covered it because I wanted to relate the experiences all at once, as I think the impact of them is a lot better that way.

When Danny and I had sex, we used protection. Even though I thought I could never get pregnant again, I felt it was just a good policy. Within a few weeks, we had drifted away even as friends, and then I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t tell him, I didn’t see a need in the beginning. I probably wouldn’t carry to term anyway. Then after a while, I got caught up in the hope and the joy (and the fear) of having a child as the milestones passed.

She was born premature. She was too premature to survive; so tiny I could hold her in one hand. She was perfectly formed and beautiful. She passed away within moments of her birth as she struggled to take in air. I willed her to live, and I cried so hard that water ran in a steady stream down my face. I told her how sorry I was. I sobbed and sobbed and the nurse cleaning me up cried with me. Then she shut the curtain and left me alone with my baby girl. Her spirit already flown.

I cried for what I’d never get to share with her. I cried for what she’d never see. I cried because she’d never daydream or play or laugh. I cried because she was so beautiful and she was gone and we could never be together. I could never give her all the love that poured out of me like… tears.

That was the lesson. Between Austin and my sweet prematurely baby, I learned the ultimate lesson, and ultimate meaning of life.

Love not given is the greatest pain we humans can know. Love not felt or experienced is terrible and painful. Love not given is a pain beyond anything that words can convey. It is love not given that can break the soul, destroy the spirit.

Some time after I left Allan, I finally got my life right again. I was working and comfortable and content. I entered into another relationship. This time, it was much longer before I gave in and had sex with him. I felt so awful about myself because I’d already had sex with people, and it seemed like the numbers were just growing. I don’t need to tell anyone how society views that. But I cared for him, though I can’t say I loved him. Again, the desire for human contact overcame me, and I wanted to feel skin against my skin. That’s always what I miss the most when I’m not with someone. Skin against mine.

Once more, I got pregnant while using a condom. I guess I’m that 99%, hey? Or perhaps they’re not so foolproof. Who knows? At the thirteen-week ultrasound, there was no heartbeat. The baby had died at a measurement of 9 weeks. A week later, my body, ineffectively, tried to expel it. I ended up in the emergency room. I broke up with the guy I was dating. I just didn’t want to try anymore. Relationships were too much work, and the miscarriages were too much for my body.

The very kind doctor, on my follow-up visit, explained to me that I should have a hysterectomy; because the scarring had been so extensive that my uterus had torn during the miscarriage. That was why the DNC had taken so long and I’d had so much bleeding.

I refused. Some part of me wanted to hold on. Just a bit longer.

Again, though, I cried bitter tears. More love not given. Another chance gone. Another life lost. Another child who would never know the good of this world. Never see a rainbow, or play with a kitten, or laugh as he was tickled.

This time, I didn’t shout at god. I didn’t curse god. I didn’t care. I didn’t believe in god anymore. I didn’t curse fate, either. I didn’t believe in fate. I was an atheist now. And that made life that much more unbearable.

Everything I’d gone through was utterly meaningless. Life was a cruel series of meaningless events. My suffering was all for nothing.

I meant nothing. I was nothing. I had given up in an even more fundamental way than when I was suicidal.

Written by sandit4glp

July 30, 2010 at 1:17 pm

Posted in Chapter 27