Everyone tells me that I need to keep talking & telling my story because that is one of the best ways to start the healing process. Just how do I even begin to do that? Usually I have no problems with chatting, and I am an open book for sure! But how do I put into words the story that I am trying my hardest to forget? Is it possible to actually get to a safe place now?
Just like delivery I will try to push until the pain is inconceivable, but then I know I will retreat. One day I hope to be able to push through the pain without stopping and deliver a birth story from that day that isn't overpowered with my humiliation at what happened.
When confronted with the most indescribable evil there are two choices: give in or get strong. The crazy part is that I was the strongest I have ever been in my 30 years just three months ago. As I write this tonight I am the most broken person I know. There has to be a way to feel whole again. If I could just understand 'why' then maybe I wouldn't be so damned confused!
I refuse to edit this blog. Because this is *my* new normal.. beaten, broken, hurt, betrayed, used, violated, but full of willpower & determination to be stronger than I was before... which I never knew was possible.
So as I begin this new journey I have a few goals in mind that I want to achieve. But at the top of the list has to be accepting that I brought two people into this world in the most horrific way & being able to come to terms with the twins' birth so that I can become the empowered woman that I once was and know that I'm capable of again. Somewhere in between I need to embrace the new family and forgive what has happened. I want to also somehow fill in the gaps of that day that my mind is forcing me to never remember. Right now the pain is just so fresh and raw.
But I will win this war, even though I lost the battle. I freaking refuse to even walk on the thin line of postpartum depression over this! I teetered on the edge of that with my oldest son's birth and I will not be going back there. Internally I know that I'm still me, but that day has changed my life forever. Unfortunately it isn't because I pushed two big babies out of my vagina unmedicated to their parents. I had waited so long to be able to see the babies' faces and then hand them to their mother. But it was all taken from me. At this moment I don't mind if I never see them again. This is not what I expected to happen. And I had honestly wondered how I would feel when I had them. Numb. That's how I felt and still feel toward them. Numb. They were the only people that left my house the morning of the birth that came out of that day without being harmed and traumatized.
It was all out of my hands, but I am so thankful that the three of us did make it out alive.
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