She missed him so much. She yearned to feel him on her chest, his breaths coming out in small puffs, ever so often flinging his arms in the air in some weird little reflex. She never thought she’d actually want to wake up to his cries of hunger, or cold from having flung his blanket off in his sleep.
Her heart had split into a gaping hole.
But one that couldn’t be fixed. He was her son, her child she had carried for nine months. She had made him and her whole heart, her whole existence, now solely belonged to him.
She hadn’t cut her wrists, or jumped off a bridge, or wasted away in her room because of him. He may not be with her, but she was still his mother and she still had to be healthy and capable if he ever needed her. She needed to have herself together.
So she shoved it all down. Her sorrow, her longing for him. But slowly she knew her soul, her reason for living was dead. She might not physically kill herself, but on the inside she was completely gone. She couldn’t sleep, instead staring at his pictures. Crying until sheer exhaustion forced her to pass out in a heap of tears and matted hair. Her mind had become a void of nothing but her guilt and her inability to move on from him.
But what was she supposed to do? Forget him? Live her life like she hadn’t spent a whole fucking year devoted the one thing that had brought her true joy? God she thought she had been depressed and a mental wreck before? Now that she had experienced the beautiful wonder of being a mother and then having had to give it up? Now she had a real reason to be the unstable wreck of a human being she had become. Now her heart was truly shattered and it had nothing to do with a mere unbalance of chemicals in her brain. She couldn’t be fixed with antidepressants. Frankly she could never be fixed.
Her wound would never heal. It would stay hacked open even after years had passed. She would never be able to get over what she had had to do because of her own fucking inability to not fuck up. It was her own damn fault and she knew it and she hated herself for it. She had ruined his life before it had even begun and that was just salt in the wound.
A painful smile hinted at her lips as she got up to blow her nose yet again. The memory of his smile dwelled in her mind. He was such a beautiful baby, filled with life and all of her love.
The first time she had held him her heart had swelled. Like the Grinch at the end of the movie when his heart grows three sizes. She hadn’t felt anything real in ages and though she had always loved seeing and feeling him move in her belly, and the first time she saw him in the ultrasound pictures all curled up like a tiny bean she had to stop herself from crying, it was all nothing compared to hearing his cry when he finally came out. And then that was nothing compared to holding him and feeding him for the first time. Though her body was exhausted from labor and she was still a bit high from the epidural, she could swear she felt her body, mind, and soul latch onto the tiny human that she had created. She was so utterly in love, nothing and no one had ever or would ever come close to sheer undiluted devotion and, infatuation, and passion, and just extreme love she felt toward him. He had literally taken her breath away. He was the one good thing she had made in her whole life. Ironic considering how he was made, and with who, was the biggest mistake of her life. But God it had almost been worth it since she now had her boy.
But now that he was gone her world had crashed down on her like never before. On the outside everything was fine. Everyone had pulled to help her out, letting her stay with them until she figured things out; her mom especially had been a solid rock she could always lean on day and night. But she had just collapsed in on herself. She had no more motivation, no more passion for anything. She was never hungry, she could never sleep. She just felt like an empty void, numb of everything except her regret and her guilt.
And overpowering it all was her yearning for her child.
Her baby, who was her whole heart, her whole reason for living. She would never admit it to anyone, but she would kill herself in a second if it wasn’t for the knowledge that her child might need her someday, that if he ever asked about his mom she didn’t want him to hear that she had killed herself because she was weak and pathetic. Any reason that stopped her before had been made obsolete with the absence of her child. She had lost all faith in herself, she was a hollowed out shell that existed purely for her little baby boy.
As she finally laid down, taking one last look at his picture before locking her phone, she continued to silently cry. Her eyes closed, tears still leaking out, her mind going over every detail of his face and his movements. She collapsed in a morose sleep, wishing she could feel the weight of his little body on her chest, his heart beating in sync with hers.