You don’t know what it’s like.
You don’t know what it’s like to have the urge to pee and be scared. Scared to drop your panties, sitting at the toilet. Scared to look down and inspect for drops of blood. You don’t know how great the relief is after no blood. But worrying, until next time. You don’t know what it’s like to wonder “blood?” At every inkling of dampness in or around your lady area. You don’t know.
You can’t begin to imagine how crazy I must feel, always thinking I need to go to the ER. Always prepared for the worst. Always ready to drive myself to hear the worst news. Even willing to go back to the hospital, where I said goodbye to my sweet Rylee. You don’t know what that’s like. Obsessively thinking something will go wrong. Fearing death every single second. Scared to go to sleep because I’m afraid I won’t wake up, or I will and my baby won’t. Night time scares me. Being farther away than a 10 minute drive from an emergency room-scares me. Instills fear into my body. Sends horrible thoughts through my mind. You can’t imagine how this makes me feel. To have my loved ones, tell me “calm down” and to keep breathing and “everything is fine”. But how do they know? How can they-without a doubt-reassure me, that it won’t happen again? How? They can’t. They just. Can’t.
So please. Before you tell me I have no idea. Bitch. You have no idea.