I don't know if it's because I have been on the maximum dose of v.i.cod.in since last night, or just that the pain was so severe, but... my mind is already moving on. It feels distorted, like it was all some bad dream.
That wasn't me flinging myself around the bathroom crying out, that wasn't me in the shower screaming, that wasn't me pushing the sac, which was once my baby, out in the throws of contractions. That was someone else. Those seven hours aren't mine.
I wonder if the disconnect is because of the drugs, or if it's because of my minds own self preserving defense mechanism kicking in. Endorphins from the pain coupled with narcotics. Lack of sleep. Drifting in and out of consciousness. Who knows. It scares the shit out of me though. The pain was so vivid, it wasn't so long ago. The agony that will haunt my eyes forever behind closed lids, now sits muted like some bad dream.
It's a frightening thing. My mind should not so easily push pain like that to the side, it shouldn't try to forget. Because, the part of me that knows it happened is still scared shitless at the mere thought of getting pregnant again. In my mind, Pregnancy = Sadness and Severe Agonizing Pain. It sure as hell doesn't equal a baby as far as I am concerned. What is does equal is suffering, inhuman writhing pain. However, part of me would like to forget that. That's the part of me that says, "I can and will move on, I can handle going through that again... if I get a baby eventually it will be worth it."
This side is now in conflict with the rational side that is saying, "Are you crazy bitch? Don't you remember what you just went through? Ain't no fucking way, no how! You aren't getting a baby out of this, you're nuts. All you're getting is pain, and for what? There is no pot of gold at the end of this rainbow. There's a pot alright, a pot of leprechaun shit. That's what." Okay, so maybe it's not my "rational" side, more like my cynical side. It just sounds more reasonable than my hopeful side at the moment. It's not ignoring all the pain I was in, the pain I'm still in, all the facts, to try and hold on to a dream that's hurting me so deep inside.
I want to try again, but right now... I am scared. I may take more time off trying to concieve than I had originally planned. Of course, as the pain delves further and further into untouchable memory... I wonder if I'll forget about why I made that resolution. I suppose the only way I'll know is when I stand at the cliffs again, when there's only two choices. When I can either jump in a sudden leap of faith and keep trying, or I can keep standing at that cliff edge... looking down and wondering if I should jump or not.
I suppose I have plenty of time to think about it. I have a month or two. More if I chose it.
But it's really bothering me that my memory is already trying to cover up what happened.