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tell them something. This whisper is so alive, so profound.<\/p>\nFrequently, I dream of my children, those ones that were never born. I dream of two pale little heads, I don\u2019t see their faces. I don\u2019t know if they were boys or girls. They stretch out their little hands to me and whisper, \u201cmommy, why? Why did you kill us?\u201d Then their bodies slowly disappear. All that\u2019s left is their whisper, \u201cwhy? Why?\u201d I stretch my hands out to them; I want to touch them, to tell them something. This whisper is so alive, so profound.<\/p>\n
Every time it takes me back to the hospital room, to the gynecological chair, where I see myself, with my teeth clenched and grasping tightly to the handles of the chair. I\u2019m in extreme pain. The bottom of my stomach is in pain; everything inside hurts, but what\u2019s more is the pain I feel in my heart. I want to scream, but something forces me to be silent. Biting my lips till they bleed, I hear the sound of the utensils. The doctor asks a question, \u201cWhy did you wait so long? Your pregnancy term is not that small\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought I could hold it out,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cWith your insufficient veins?!\u201d she laughed. \u201cWell, shall we start? You will have to endure pain,\u201d she warned.<\/p>\n
I felt something cold enter my body, something metallic. It began to scratch coarsely, scrape, hack, cut… Screams went numb at the lips\u2026 It hurts, hurts intensely, but even worse is the shame. Every time, when another piece falls down, a piece of what used to be my child, I want to howl and die from the powerlessness and from the shame.<\/p>\n
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fetus- 12 week<\/p><\/div>\n
-\u201cRelax your muscles\u201d I hear the voice of the doctor, \u201cit won\u2019t be that painful. It\u2019s your first time, I could tell that right from the start. Do you have kids?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwo. A son and a daughter. We wanted a third one\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cRestore your health and then have more. We are almost done,\u201d obviously wanting to cheer me up. \u201cIt\u2019s strange\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you been to an ultrasound?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey didn\u2019t tell you anything?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, why?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIn your family do you have twins?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes and what?\u201d I asked, frozen by the possible answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have twins, well actually had<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n
The tears started pouring out on their own. I always wanted twins and now\u2026<\/p>\n
In about 5 minutes we were done. The nurse helped me down\u2026 I have never screamed so loudly before; she forgot to take away the trays. In it lay the bloody mess\u2026 the bloody mess that only a half hour ago lived within me; was a part of my body, a piece me. Now it\u2019s only clots of blood, chunks of meat. I slowly slid down to the cold tile floor. I woke up in a hospital room. Next to me stood the doctor with a large piece of smelly wadding.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou really scared us. Some people come to us ten times a year, but you faint on us\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cForgive me\u201d I said quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s fine. All these years, I\u2019ve seen a lot. You will still have children\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot these ones\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI should not have told you about the twins. Try to look at this plainly. Everyone does abortions, believe me. Alright, just lie here a little, relax, and then go home. Your family is in the waiting room. Don\u2019t tell your husband about the twins.<\/p>\n
\u201cOk\u201d<\/p>\n
Eight years passed since then. I have never had any more abortions, never had any more children. I had infertility before and now again. I had and continue to have this reoccurring dream and the whisper, \u201cmommy, why? Why did you kill us?\u201d<\/p>\n
I had and still have the question, on which I don\u2019t have an answer, \u201cWhat if everything would have been fine? What if I would have not listened to the doctors?\u201d<\/p>\n
There is no answer. And there never will be\u2026<\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n