Black Wednesday, I Am: The sacrifice…

 

Picture this.. December 24, 2004. Under the imminent threat of inclement weather, We rise early to drive a few hours North to Little Rock, Arkansas for the procedure. (As I write this I’m trying to remember if I knew where we were going and why.. it’s sort of fuzzy but I do remember it was cold.. my mind was full of fog as it had been the last 3months or so.. ) We arrive to this facility only to be searched upon entry. Medal detectors, bullet proof glass & strange smells.. We sign on then sit in the lobby. Silence. All of our expressions are the same. Most of the faces have a husband or boyfriend with them for support but I have my mother.
Attempting to cheer me up, but I have nothing. Not even fear. All of this feels like a dream and I’m just ready to be warm & In my Twin Sized Blues Clues covered bed set…

My name is called. 1) Ultra Sound to make sure youre pregnant, how far along you are and whether or not there’s a heartbeat. Ask if you would like a photo copy. 2) Pay the other half of the $500 to COMMIT to the procedure. 3) Wait 3 more hours in a hospital gown, cold room, No hear just a chair & table. So you curl up in the fetal position to keep yourself warm. After questioning yourself tirelessly about whether this is some sort of game to make me think about if this is what i really want or not.. I soon fall fast asleep. To another room we go, unborn & i.. On the table I go. I lay there begging whatever God is watching over to intervene, because now for the first time in months, I’m starting to FEEL… Something. idk what, but I can actually FEEL an emotion brewing..

 

Open your legs wide, place feet into stirrups. On goes the laughing gas mask because who wants to pay an extra $$$ amount to NOT remember any of this, right? One numbing shot to the cervix, i start to giggle. Once this happens, the tube is inserted, on flips the vacuum and then comes the FLOOD of emotion.. I yell out in pain from the violent suction happening in my womb, they “shush” me because im disturbing other patients. Or saving them depending on perspective.. And just like that I go from “we” to an “I” in a matter of seconds.. One last ultra sound, No heartbeat. Off the table to another waiting area as I bleed sitting upright on this toilet-like chair… I just want to go home & shower.. A couple hours south we go. The most awkward ride od my life. After i stop bleeding i go see the boyfriend to try & get our child back.. but it didnt work. Im then forbidden from going over to his mother’s house by my mother and… I just want to run. Run from her, from men, from me, from this realm altogether. This experience would traumatize me to the point the ONLY comfort i would find again for the next 3years would be in the bosom of another woman.. multiple women.. (eventually men) drugs.. alcohol.. a short stint in adult entertainment.. and other self destructive behaviors not limited to sex drugs, over eating & self mutilation but that’s another chapter.

 

So, here it is.. 11years later & I’m still in “mourning/reverence” of the child that came to remind me of just how barbaric “westernized medical” experimentation practices were, are & always will be. I’m also called to reflect on how important it is to honor yourself no matter the stage of growth & development. And in this knowing I’ve come to accept that we do choose our parents. How we will come into this realm, and how we’re going out. Our baby taught me about the necessity of sacrifice and that life begins & ends with a thought. So today I honor the child we once called “Samaya Baker” back in the dorms of UAPB.. Rebirthed/reincarnated as the “Black” Wednesday from my womb. Good job kiddo.. Your sacrifice did NOT go in vain. Im as proud of you as i feel you are of me. You sacrificed so that I too would have the opportunity to go on and do great things in your honor. I salute you not just at your altar but in ALL things i accomplish, princess. I love your infinite soul baby girl.. Thank you for choosing me…Choosing us.. And thank YOU for reading..

 

 

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