playing hookie

February 2, 2002- 7 years ago, I miscarried a little life. That tiny baby slipped through my body and landed in the toilet. Harsh, I know. The memory is so clear in my head that to this day, it brings a tear to my eye. I wanted to stand there and stare at this little thing that would've been my child. I wanted to scoop it out and save it- inspect his or her little body. I missed the opportunity that day. He walked into the bathroom- I was weak and crying. He flushed the toilet and just like that...it was gone. He didn't even ask. He didn't come to me first. I won't forgive him for that. I won't.

I know that that was meant to happen. I never would have been able to leave that monster. I would have been bound to him for the rest of my life. As a woman, though, every year- it is etched in my mind when I first open my eyes on this day. Today, my baby would be in school- or maybe on the way home. It's beautiful out today- maybe we'd go to the park and play. I don't know.

This day, every year, no matter where my life is- I am forced to take the day off from the present and relive that moment. Not my idea of playing hookie.