daughter

In 2015 my ex-wife was 6 weeks pregnant. I remember a moment where we sat on my back porch and talked about the future, and I remember such peace and certainty that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. We told her parents, and told mine. Her father cried from happiness.

She lost it about a week later. Looking back, I feel like this is where things took a turn for the worse in our marriage. Before this, though we had our struggles, we still had innocence, and our love for one another. After, something changed, and the harsher realities of life became exposed to us. We dealt with it in our own ways, for better or worse. I thought about it from time to time, but solely in the form of what it was: A miscarriage. I worried about my wife and tried to be there for her, and I rarely thought about it in regards to the lost pregnancy.

2 weeks ago I had a dream where a small, 6-year old girl visited me. She had blonde, curly hair, and when I knelt to say hello, she lightly placed her hand on my knee and smiled. In my dream-mind, it dawned on me in that moment that this was my daughter, the one we’d lost when my ex had miscarried. A simple dream, but one born from the deep confides of my subconscious, a locked cage that seemed to protect me, until that moment, from more traumatic thoughts.

When I woke up I couldn’t stop crying. I realized that I’ve lost more than I’d ever thought, and it was nearly overwhelming. We of course didn’t know the gender of the child, but we suspected and both wanted a daughter. That thought had locked itself away, but still existed nonetheless. I haven’t stopped thinking about that little girl since, her bright eyes filled with hope and energy, of newness.

We never had children, despite how we tried, how we went to doctors and took part in certain procedures, how the act of trying and being joined in a single effort brought us closer, if only for a short time. One day we simply gave up, and never talked about it again.