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-

Whatif?
Whatif?

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?

Whatif?

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...
Whatif?