Ten days from the best day of my life, my beautiful angel's first birthday, I find myself sitting in the waiting room of my OB-GYN. That same waiting room that holds so many memories. Good and bad. Beautiful and shocking. Life and death. Tears streaming down my face as pregnant women, blind to my evident sadness, touch their bellies, hear the heartbeats, and complain about their pregnancy symptoms. What wouldn't I give to have those pregnancy symptoms again and to hear Enzo's heartbeat?! The smell of a cold, lifeless atmosphere penetrates the waiting room. This same waiting room that has seen me pregnant and has witnessed my motherhood, which most don't see or believe considering my son isn't physically present to prove it. Waiting to see the same
doctor who broke the news to us that, my son, had a rare kidney disease that wasn't compatible with life... The same doctor that verified life in my stomach and also ended that life abruptly with the unexpected findings. Life's cruel ways followed me from that same waiting room to that SAME room where we were told Enzo had Potter's Syndrome and that it was "serious." Out of 4 patient rooms, I had to be put into that exact same one. The room with the big window that looks out into a full parking lot that looks so empty to me... just as everything else does in life. Everything seems to be empty now that my son is gone.
Looking back at this waiting room scene that I experienced about an hour ago... I get angry knowing people witnessed my tears, my sadness, my complete loneliness in a room full of people and yet, all I got were stares and whispers instead of hugs and comfort. I don't expect people to automatically know the hell I've been through but it seems rather obvious to me that my facial expression depicts a heartbreak that only child-loss brings. I am still the only case of Potter's Syndrome that my OB-GYN has seen... and he's been in this field for about 40+ years. The "why me's" came pouring back into my mind and my body just seemed to weaken. Oh, the pain.
I miss you Enzo. I love you baby boy. My little man is growing up :) Forever Enzo*
doctor who broke the news to us that, my son, had a rare kidney disease that wasn't compatible with life... The same doctor that verified life in my stomach and also ended that life abruptly with the unexpected findings. Life's cruel ways followed me from that same waiting room to that SAME room where we were told Enzo had Potter's Syndrome and that it was "serious." Out of 4 patient rooms, I had to be put into that exact same one. The room with the big window that looks out into a full parking lot that looks so empty to me... just as everything else does in life. Everything seems to be empty now that my son is gone.
Looking back at this waiting room scene that I experienced about an hour ago... I get angry knowing people witnessed my tears, my sadness, my complete loneliness in a room full of people and yet, all I got were stares and whispers instead of hugs and comfort. I don't expect people to automatically know the hell I've been through but it seems rather obvious to me that my facial expression depicts a heartbreak that only child-loss brings. I am still the only case of Potter's Syndrome that my OB-GYN has seen... and he's been in this field for about 40+ years. The "why me's" came pouring back into my mind and my body just seemed to weaken. Oh, the pain.
I miss you Enzo. I love you baby boy. My little man is growing up :) Forever Enzo*