I’ve been checking my memories from a year ago on the ever watching, ever observing Facebook and nothing has been coming up for the last couple of days from a year back. I always post something daily on there. A selfie, a funny picture, an overly verbose status update or perhaps there’s a post on my wall from a friend who saw something and thought of me. My favourite posts, those are. My thoughts wonder to last year, this time. What was I doing? Was I that busy that I had posted nothing on social media? Busy? Ha. No. I was slowly but surely dying with my little dude fighting for his internal life within me. I was roughly 7 months pregnant a year ago to the day and life was far from kind. My body saw the wee baby Vash as an intruder and was doing everything to get rid of him, to the extent that he hadn’t picked up a gram of weight in a month. I was petrified but tried to maintain a calm disposition. My gynecologist was the biggest asshole of the medical realm. I could not eat. My body rejected everything. Even water. I had constant pains in my chest. My feet were so swollen that I could not walk. They were a menacing shade of purple/blue as well. No circulation. My wrists were bandaged and drenched in menthol ointment to ease the excruciating pain I felt in them. Whenever I would call him to ask, no, beg for help, him and his receptionist would just state that I am an unlucky mum to have such a rough pregnancy. Just lie down. Just drink water. Just take it easy. It will all be over soon. By my death, most likely. Who am I to question the notions of an experienced, qualified doctor? I took his word as bond, unfortunately. Perhaps if I sort out a cliched second opinion, I would not have had to endure what was to follow… Musings of troubles passed. His first birthday is coming up next week and I am taken back by all we have had to endure to survive. Everything seems so trivial. Work. People. Money. Religion. Politics….

I find myself spitting those cliches of life is for the living and whatnot. Am not dwelling in the past but are we not all shaped by it? If so, then my shape is a tetrahedral parallelogram with a hypotenuse extending to Andromeda.

 

My pain (Welcome)

My pain (The pipes)

My pain (Masterchef)

My pain (Pin number)

My pain (Bringer of water)

My pain (Maltabella)

My pain (Breakdown)

My pain (Lizards)

My pain (Spoon!)

My pain (Onward!)

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2 thoughts on “My Facebook Memories

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