Though I didn’t eat anything yesterday, and only committed the act of consuming a food product after midnight on what is now, technically, Saturday (though what are days when one cannot sleep? Time is merely an invention of man) early morning, after 12am, I’m bloated beyond belief. I had about 450 calories of broccoli and guacamole, with maybe another 100 calories of unsalted mixed nuts. Is there anyone out there who thinks that after consuming roughly 550 calories that anyone should appear so bloated? I literally look as though I’m facing the mid-term of pregnancy… Naturally, it’s 5am and I have to be to a function tomorrow, which I’m certain I’ll write about at a later date. Suffice it to say I’ve managed to find enough strength in my poor, old razor to shave at least to the knee, and I’d depended on the idea of wearing a very pretty, yet subtle, sexy little dress to the event, with matching flip flops, earrings, finger and nail polish. Now, I literally look pregnant. I’ve half the mind to go in what I’d planned anyway and when people inevitably ask how far along I am (I’m used to it folks; I used to be … Rather large, and asked constantly about my pregnancy, including strangers walking up and rubbing my stomach), I could claim it’s a girl, due in late October, and her name is to be Margo. –sigh- I’m so tired of the bloating, and the loss of hair – the diarrhea when I cannot eat and the constipation when I can.
Interestingly enough, I’ve once been pregnant with a little girl, who’s name was to be Cheyenne. The pregnancy followed a tragedy which I will probably disclose in the future – a man who took advantage of me in a sexual way, despite our age or my lack of interest – a man who threatened to kill me should I ever tell – a man I believed to be telling the truth. It was a major conflict in deciding whether or not I should keep the baby… Would it just remind me of who did something so horrible to me – or would she be the blessing that I needed? How would I explain to her why other girls had a daddy and she didn’t? How would I keep her safe – from him? From others? From everyone… One day, while working hard in my grandmother’s yard, I spoke aloud to the kicking child within my womb and said, “Just get out of my life already!” My family did not yet know that I was with child…and they never would later believe that I was – not that it matters – we all have our own battles – it’s not my job to ensure that everyone believe me; it’s my duty to make sure that anyone who chooses to listen can hear my story. My family never believed me about the incident, let alone the child… I’d obviously decided to keep her and I loved her – I collected things for her from low-cost facilities and churches to prepare myself as best as I could. My only true friend at the time had also abandoned me – it was just me and my little girl. I wondered often if she’d look more like him than she did me. I wondered how I’d react to her if she were a spitting image of her – I wondered if I’d be able to raise her or if I should give her up for adoption … But I loved her too much to think too far down that path. She was mine. And then she was gone, and I was left to felt empty, alone, heart broken and guilty for ever even saying such a thing – but I could never take it back – she was gone in the proverbial blink of an eye.
When I bloat so badly, I think of her again – about hiding her and keeping her safe and feeling her movements within me… I think back to the day I stood beneath the clothesline here, in my home, and wishing something so horrible on someone so innocent, and having it come true… Today, I will wear the outfit I’ve intended for days – I will rock this bloated stomach and think of her – I shan’t be ashamed – I’ll rock my bloat in pride.
Or will I?
I bet she’d have been beautiful. She’d be nearly 10 now. I love her and I miss her. Most days are better now, in that respect, after ten years, but sometimes, I think of her and wonder who she was supposed to be. All of the clothing and baby accessories I’d accumulated, soon after my finding I was pregnant – a car seat, a swing, a stroller, blankets, binkies and bibs were lost recently in the house my father lost – I’d hung onto them for far too long… I let them go – the bank cleared them out, fore I could not.
I feel so disgustingly disfigured and morbidly obese. My arms, my legs and my tummy, not to mention my round face and double chin – I fear they’ll never go away… And I fear I’ll never see my little Ms Cheyenne Marie. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe she would have looked too strikingly similar to the man who forcibly stole my innocence… Maybe I wouldn’t have been able to cope…. I still wish she were here. Cheyenne, I’m sorry, baby, that I scared you away that day – Mommy was frustrated and sad, but I never, ever wanted you to leave – I promise. One day, Mommy will meet you on the other side of the veil and everything will be okay again. Mommy loves you so much. You’ll always be my little princess. I love you, so, so much.