My personal “D-Day” |The dreaded heartbreak

Dear any human’s who had interaction with me yesterday,

I woke up this afternoon (thank you night shift for throwing off my days/sleep schedule) grabbed my phone and just stared at the date. Today is June 26th. June 26th, 2018. How the hell could that be? How could I have not realized? How could I have not known? You’re probably thinking I’m slightly nuts. Which if you ask Shaine is partially true, but the importance of the date actually lies in yesterday’s day. Yesterday, the 25th was the important day. The one day of the year I dread. Each year on the 25th day of June something just feels off. I typically spend the entire day in bed, avoiding human interaction anxiously waiting to wake up on the 26th. But why you ask? June 25th is d-day, the day of heartbreak. The due date of both of our angel babies.

This weird thing started eight years ago (yesterday). Our due date came and as we had known for months we were not on our way to the hospital. Instead, I was in Michigan, Shaine was in Germany. I remember feeling depressed, feeling like I had a heavy brick sitting directly on my chest. Knowing that day, we should have, would have, was suppose to be very different. Like each day, there are only twenty-four hours in a day and this day did in fact end. After a long emotional day, I went to bed and woke up the next morning feeling more optimistic.

Fast forward to 2011, same emotions, same heavy feeling down deep in my chest. Again and again. Year after year. As the years went on my heartache turned into physical pain. I would get sick. The kind of sick where you can’t eat, you can’t be social, all you can physically accomplish is to sleep and sleep for days. Each year I would go back to my doctor and get checked for mono. And not surprising the test never came back positive. After a few days, I would be as good as new. My mom was the first to piece the puzzle together. She would watch me and no matter what I was doing, where I was, June 25th would come and I would change.

My demeanor, my appetite, my overall health would completely flip. I could go from happy go lucky, living life, celebrating our whatever year anniversary, an instantly turn into a raging, sleep obsessed bitch. My appetite would disappear. All I wanted to do was sleep. Sleep, sleep and more sleep. As I became aware of it, I watched for it. Planned for it. I would especially plan things to keep me busy and distracted, but it still didn’t help.

Which is what brings me to today. Today I woke up feeling great. Had a great nap after working last night, was hungry, motivated ready to start my day. But all of a sudden it hit me. Today was the 26th, yesterday was in fact “d-day.” The dreaded day. The due date day. And while I honestly had no idea what was going on yesterday, it all makes sense to me now. I woke up yesterday at ten in the morning after going to bed at ten the night before. I started my day off at the gym, where every little squeal from kids innocently playing pissed me off. My run didn’t feel like it had, my bones hurt, my legs felt like hundred pound cinderblocks. After my lame attempt at a workout, I went to the grocery store. Instead of getting my typical items I wandered around, confused, not intrigued by anything. Once I arrived back home around one, I laid down to take another nap before work. And this time slept for a good three and a half hours. Waking up I was groggy, confused and angry. I was mad the dishwasher wasn’t emptied, mind you the dishwasher was the same way when I laid down a few hours prior. I was angry with the typical rush hour traffic. I was angry to see my work assignment. Every little thing made me angry. As the night went on it didn’t get better, it just got worse. I was annoyed at every patient, every nurse, every co-worker. But why? None of them did anything to me? It was honestly a pretty easy peasy night but for some reason, it didn’t feel like it. It felt like so much more.

A few years ago I read a book about a woman and a man that lived next door to each other their entire adult life. They each had their own families. Each was married with kids. The book took the readers through their relationship as neighbors, then friends, then secret lovers. While they each continued on in their lives, putting their love for each other on the back burner. Until one day, the man had a massive heart attack and died. The book talked about how every year on the anniversary of this death the women would be rushed to the hospital with symptoms of a heart attack. Only for the test to not support this claim.

I bring this up because I truly believe in heartbreak being so much more than emotion. I believe that every year on that day my body subconsciously mourns the loss of both of our babies. Mourns the fact that they aren’t here like we planned on them being like we wished they would be. At first, I thought it was in my head but this year proves otherwise. I never thought about the miscarriages, or the lack of children once yesterday. I didn’t realize it was, in fact, the 25th until today, just a few minutes ago. But my body, my heart, my soul knows something is off.

Eight years ago today I wrote a note and I posted it on my Facebook. This was the first time I’ve ever written something I felt the need to share publicly. While a lot has happened, much time has passed it still speaks directly to me and my feelings on that day and every June 25th since then. I hope you enjoy:

June 25, 2010

Today’s the day my life would have drastically change. Today’s the day I would have held you in my arms for the first time. Today’s the day my life goal would have become being the best mother to you. Today’s the day I could look at you and realize all the pain was worth it. However, today is not that day. Today I realize everything happens for a reason. And even though I still don’t know that reason life goes on. Just because time has past doesn’t mean I don’t still think about that day and wonder who you would be, or where I would be. I’ll always remember the day you “surprised” me, as well as the day the doctors crushed me… Today would have been the day, I became a mom. ❤

– Written by twenty-year-old me.