Wednesday, July 1, 2009

The Whatifs

It was like that Shel Silverstein poem.

As if in the night the "Whatifs" would crawl into my ear.
Late at night...

Whatif I had gone in a day earlier?
Whatif I had complained and asked to be induced?
Whatif I had done something- anything- to start labor?

Would he be here?

The Whatifs were horrible and they consumed me. I wished I could somehow turn back time- even if just a day- just a few hours...

But I couldn't. I couldn't turn back time. I couldn't change things.

And so they came,
usually at night.
My Whatifs.

They held me captive and I wondered if I'd ever escape their whispers.

I'd seen other cases too.
So many of the Secret Society members.
So many talking of the Whatifs- The control they had over them was heartwrenching.
It was tragic.

They talked about their Whatifs
Even when the cord had taken them-
Their placentae had failed them-
Their babies were sick-
Their babies were born too early-
Too late-


But IF you could have. You would have.
IF you could have them here-
They would be here.
There are no Whatifs about that!

One night they came to my ear
and instead of listening, I spoke.

Whatif he were here?
Would my daughter be?

Whatif he were here?
Would my younger son be?


And in that moment I said goodbye to the Whatifs.

No longer will I allow you to come-
come and whisper and take over my nights-

No longer will I be consumed by what I could have done-
or could have not done-

And though I've said goodbye to the Whatifs-
Sometimes I can still hear them-
And their whispers
And I still sometimes wonder...


  1. I love this post. So very true. Thanks for sharing!

  2. So very, very true. I have so many Whatifs that like to come and crowd around me, especially in the early hours of the morning when I can't sleep. But if I could have, I would have. You are right there. xx

  3. The Whatifs. The Shouldhaves. I've learned to tune them out (most of the time.) Whatif I still had my angel baby? I definitely wouldn't have my Rosie. And now that I have her, how can I trade her, give her up? Do I even want to?

    I can't and don't. Instead I send away the Whatifs for WhatIS. I can deal with WhatIS. It's not so haunting and questionable. It is simply a reality, one I accept, though it's not what I imagined reality would be.

  4. You could be writing my words, except I haven't been able to stop listening to them yet. The memories play through my mind constantly and I just wonder...

  5. Those WhatIfs sometimes consume me completely. I understand completely the need to let them go.


Your thoughts?