Do you ever lie in the dark, able to feel the presence of the person next to you, longing for them to reach out and touch you? Praying for the feeling of their skin against yours? Aching for the smallest hint of human affection? Yet, nothing comes… only the seeming eternal darkness as the space between you grows into a chasm so wide you as far apart as two stars in the night sky.
I cannot begin to explain to you the pain that comes with infertility and years of trying to have children. I cannot begin to explain the toll it takes on your mental, emotional, and spiritual well being, especially if the problem lies with you.
I attempted once to convey the emptiness I felt inside, the loss of faith and pain that comes with the void of an empty womb, to my husband. Do you know what I got in reply?
Job. He spoke of the pains that Job suffered and how he didn’t loose faith.
I am not saying my husband was wrong.
I am saying that in that moment I felt as though it was more than just God abandoning me.
In that moment, I felt the darkness of space as a star does… light years from the next closest body or source of warmth.
“She stood, planning to run deeper into the woods. She would let the wolves have her, and if she found herself on the other side before then, she would start over in a different land, she could recreate herself into someone who didn’t desire a family.”
The only difference between Dyre and me is that my Connor isn’t coming for me. He does not search the woods for me, or see the pain on my face before words are even spoken. So I lay on the forest floor and wait for the wolves to find me, so that maybe in that moment, my pain will be gone.
We have slaughtered
In the garden of beauty
Digging graves instead of planting
Mercy for the crucified
A bitter justice
Begging eternity for love