The Eyes

The unknowing eye

The unknowing eye, looks at me and says "when are you due?" I resist to answer but say "June" they smile and say "boy or girl" noticing I have one boy already, they hope I say girl. I reply "boy", the look on their face shows a sign of them hiding the fact that they want to say "aww too bad". Like having two boys is torture or something. As I try to move along my way, they continue to talk. Questions surface of names picked out and lil things like how they bet daddy sure is happy to have two champs on his team. I try to keep my mind set that they don't know what really is going on. I remember that to the unknowing eye, I'm only a young woman pregnant, with a belly that is noticeable so they want to rub it and talk about it. Remember pregnancy and children are a beautiful thing. No one thinks about the sad parts or the heartbreaking moments that some un lucky women have to go through.
I try to speed the conversation, although I've never been impolite to strangers, so I re direct to talk about my older son. The one that is running in the isle of the grocery store. But the unknowing eye continues to push towards talking about pregnancy. I wonder how the look of excitement for me will change if I tell them my pregnancy has been said to fail, that with all the stretched belly's, heart burn, morning sickness, hormone changes, back aches, I may not bring home the grand prize. That would be so wrong of me. But it would surely shut them up. But remember they have no idea, they are just making small talk. Aren't we all guilty of that? Thankfully my 2 yr old runs away beyond my eye site, " I must go get my Lil one, nice talking"

The knowing eye

The knowing eye is the same but all too different. They have all the knowledge but no words to stand on. They can't imagine what I'm going through. Some wonder how I wake up in the morning. Some say you are a lot stronger than I would be. I wonder if that is so, or if I'm just masking my pain, my hurt, my tears, for another time? The knowing eye, forgets about my belly, they treat me as nothing is even going on. When I mention the baby some will listen, but most will try to re-direct the conversation to my older son. WOW. How guilty we all can be.
The knowing eye sees me living a reality that I hate so much, they know how horrible it is, but are glad they don't live it. They feel for me but only a few understand. The knowing eye won't hug me until a tear falls out my eye. Even though that hug is what I want and need. Just a hug just a sense of affection that lets me know you think about us and you still care. Everyday is different for me, so the knowing eye will never know if it's a good or a bad day. That hug, just the hug would ease the pain, if only for the minute.

I hold the knowing eyes of a mother who chooses to carry to term, a baby with a condition that is now incompatible with life.

I hold the unknowing eyes of a mother who believes in miracles, but is not sure if she will be granted one.

I hate my eyes.

~Stephanie Stewart