Pressure

 This feels like a fire coursing through my veins. As I embark on my next journey to expanding my family, I'd be a complete liar if I didn't say I feel like you could knock me over with a feather. I feel completely weightless; the air that surrounds me is thick, heavy, and hot. My tears burn my face as they fall from my eyes, rolling down my cheek. Please, don’t get me wrong, I am genuinely excited; however, so much fear and anxiety come along with trying to conceive again after a recent loss. The what-ifs, uncertainty, and doubt flood the very front of my mind like clouds that refuse to blow over, they hover above you in the air building up pressure until they can no longer hold it in anymore, so they explode, pouring out all the weight they have carried. 

My mind races, Can I do this? Am I actually ready? What will I feel if I do get pregnant? What If this is just another unsuccessful cycle?  How will the hormones affect my mental health?  What if....I.....lose....have...what if I miscarry again? What if? What if? What if?

 

I’m scared, and I still feel like those around me see me as a dark, depressing shadow that lingers in the corner of the room. People don’t know what to do with me, as if I’m a puzzle to be solved or a problem to be handled. Tell me, why is it that when your baby dies, you are shunned, sent out, isolated from those around you, like damaged and broken goods? As you sit in your house, unable to process the world around you, neglecting your surroundings. You die from the inside out, you feel the life within you rotting away, and all you long for is someone to come along and water your roots, trim off the decaying parts of your soul and give you a chance to grow, bloom and blossom into new life. Yet you are left alone to deal with and process your pain, sorrow, and heartache on your own. Holing it in and carrying it around, the pressure is building, and all you can do is wait for the rain. Please let it rain. I need to let this out. I need a release; however, Unlike everyone around you, you can’t seek shelter because it is you who is the storm.

 

The past echoes so loudly in my mind that my ears ring. The feeling of emptiness has left a hole of hollowness in my heart. It's not just an emotional pain anymore. It hurts physically. My body hurts, my joints ache with stiffness and swelling from being stuck in one position, my feet hurt when I stand after sitting for hours, and I sit dazed, dissociated, lost in my mind, the words I long so gravely just to say out loud. But where with who, the bottle is so full that the pressure is building, ready to explode like rain clouds. There is so much more to unpack, so much more I long to speak and give life to, to expose the deepest secrets of the things that haunt me. Things about my loss, my near suicide, my hopes, dreams, and fears. All of it is just building up pressure.

 

Maybe I’m wrong to try again so soon. Maybe I’m an idiot. Maybe this isn’t the right path. People seem to think I’m jumping off the diving board into water that’s over my head, even though I just learned to swim. “We will support you whatever you decide, but we just want to make sure you know what could happen. We just want to make sure you know……their voices become distant mumbles as I try to suppress the thoughts that are ramping up in my mind. I can feel the pressure as it continues to build. However, I’ve been masking in every aspect of my life, covering up my pain, anxiety, and fear with humor and laughing, so I don’t fall apart and cry. I’ve chosen to hit the light switch, flipping off the emotions. I let my mind carry me to a place far, far away from here, and should someone ask me how I’m doing, my answer is always the same lie. I can't let the pressure out because, as they say, when it rains, it pours, so to avoid the storm building inside my soul, “I’m Great.”