Dear Ms. Body,
You failed me! Why? For the last year, I nurtured you, I feed you, I kept you safe. I took you to the doctor at every inkling of possible illness, blemish, or concern. I provided you with nutrients, extra sleep, and occasionally brisk walks for exercise. When you felt weak, I listened. When you swelled, I responded. I gave you all of my patience, my youth, my belief. I sacrificed my beauty, my comfort, and my sanity for you and her, and look what I have gotten in return. A dead child. A broken body. An angry and lost soul.
You betrayed me Ms. Body. I trusted you. I trusted you with my child. My life. I was told, "trust your body" and "Mother Nature knows best" by doctors and mothers alike. Well little do they know that, Mother Nature is a nasty B**ch! And guess what Ms. Body, you aren't much better. You played the cruelest trick of all on me. You gave me hope. Hope that my child would live. Hope that you were capable of keeping us safe. Hope that everything would be okay. I trusted you! But with one fail sweep you took my trust and smashed it, like a glass Christmas ornament hitting the ground and shattering into tiny pieces. Those pieces were the remnants of my hope. Now gone, laying helplessly on the floor, waiting for me to step on them, barefoot, to remind me of my pain and loss again, and again.
And you do, Ms. Body, remind me of my pain everyday. If it wasn't at first with, the swollen vagina or the giggly baby pouch. Then, it was with the weak pelvic floor muscles that allowed me to soil myself. And now, with me forever worried I will wet myself in public due to you not doing your job anymore. But, hey, you stopped doing your job on that sad day, when my daughter died. What makes me think that you would start doing it again, doing what you are supposed to do, which is support me and protect me. You had already let me down once, shame on you, and shame on me for believing you would decide to change your mind and be my faithful companion again instead of my enemy. No, Ms. Body, you are worse then an enemy, because you were my confidant, and now all I know from you is betrayal.
You, Ms. Body, are like a jester in a minstrel show. Pulling me close, misleading me, making me believe I am safe. That no harm will come my way. But, like the jester, at my most vulnerable and safest moment, at the "finish line", with the slight of your hand you perform your trick, and poof, in that instance you take all my security and hope away. You killed my child. You killed my dreams. You killed my innocence. What a cruel, cruel trick you played. Are you satisfied Ms. Body. Did you get what you wanted?
And why? What was the point of this trick? Did you want me to never trust you again? Because, Ms. Body, that is what has happened. You were supposed to be my protector. You were supposed to be HER protector. And instead you killed her, and my soul along with her. I can't trust you again. You failed me. Not in a small, insignificant way, but in the biggest way possible. I know some would say that my own death would be your ultimate failure, but in some ways, this betrayal hurts more. You have failed to produce and protect the life we made, and then leave me to pick up the pieces and move on. As if you wanted to watch me struggle, to grovel, to grapple with life, like a jester smirking as you watch, on looking, at my pain with glee.
How Ms. Body, how, are we going to live together in this world? I can't trade you in for a new model. I can't pretend you don't exist or that this didn't happen. So, how are we going to get through this. You seem to have all the power, you like having all the control, why don't you find a way to fix this awful problem, since you created it in the first place. This was your doing, not mine, not ours, but yours. It should be your problem to fix.
Ah, but there is no fixing this. You see, you also don't control everything. You don't have the ability to bring my daughter back. Yes, you keep telling me that we can create a new one, a new child. But, you don't realize, that a new child will not replace her! She is lost forever. And how could I trust you with another life form? How could I trust you with my next child? What are you going to do to make me believe you could or would do better next time?
We already created a perfect little girl. Did you know, that's what the doctor's called her, PERFECT, even in death. Even after you let that infection ravage her body and destroy her life source the placenta. She measured perfect, she looked perfect, she smelled perfect, she felt perfect. Were you too jealous of her because she was perfect? Did you think I was not worthy of perfection? Who are you to decide such matters. You are not God. You too will die someday, and yes I will die with you, but Ms. Body, part of me is already dead thanks to you.
Forever yours, but wished it wasn't so,