The loss of many things

I posted this story late Sunday night, then removed it Monday afternoon, worried about, well, the obvious. But I want to put it up again now. I feel I can trust you with this and for me, it is one of the most important pieces of writing I have done since beginning this blog. Please do not feel compelled to comment; that isn't the purpose of posting this piece.

She didn't even think she wanted to have children. Definitely not. She was too selfish and absent-minded and fly-by-night to ever consider actually having responsibility for an actual human being, she thought. No kids for her, then. She was thirty-six and single, and had finally made up her mind on this very important topic.

Then came the recurring stomach pain that would not stop. It was not quite like the kidney stones she had experienced before, but just as powerful. The pain made her literally sick to her stomach. Her friend insisted that she go to the doctor, and imagine her surprise when the doctor asked, "Did you know you are pregnant?" Surely she could not be pregnant. Her life--all the experiences and accomplishments for which she planned and hoped--flashed before her eyes. But almost as quickly as the blood test results were returned, after days of uncertainty, panic, uncomfortable, embarrassing tests and empty hours spent wondering what she had done with her reckless irresponsibility this time, she learned it was not meant to be after all. Instead, there was only a tubal pregnancy, with no hope of a viable birth. The treatment was to be a form of chemotherapy, which would hopefully resolve the situation while permitting her a chance at motherhood in the future, but with no guarantees.

So just as quickly as she became a potential mother, she faced not only the loss of a first child, but possibly the lost potential for any children, ever. It was then that she realized she wasn't so sure after all that she would make an unfit mother. That she still held out hopes for marriage and family, however carefully she hid those hopes. That maybe her friends' children, however wonderful and sweet and funny, could not completely fill her need to nurture someone all her own. And just as quickly as she stopped mourning the loss of her carefree life, she tucked away those hopes and dreams, trying not to think of them or the little boy who might have been.