Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Precious Gift

"I'm leaving you."

It took over an hour for Troy's words to sink in. By the time I had a reaction, he was gone. My first love, my first partner, my first best friend just became my first heart break. Everyone told me that high school romances didn't always last, but Troy and I were different. We defied the rules. We lived on the edge. We did things that others only dreamed of doing. From starting a highly successful online Internet company to buying our dream cash, mind you...before either one of us reached 25. Our lineup of accomplishments far surpassed most retired adults. I thought we had it all. Apparently, I was wrong.

For the past two years, we have been so wrapped up in our business that we unwrapped ourselves. Our niche was video marketing and we had an all star clientele list. People were climbing over each other to work with N'Demand Video Marketing. Our name suited us in more ways than one. Obviously, our services were highly in demand. The downside to that was our personal time was sacrificed because our professional time simply wasn't enough. We gave a lot to build our company. Looking back, I feel like we gave too much.

For five years we put our blood, sweat, and tears into this business. Once we finally started to see results from the fruits of our labor we went in twice as hard. We were rich. We were happy. We owned all of our assets outright. Our investment portfolio was growing daily. Our clientele was growing weekly. Our bank accounts were growing monthly. Everything was on the up and up. Then two months ago, on November 13th to be exact, it all spiraled downhill.

I was sitting at my desk going over video scrips for new clients. Suddenly, I felt a pinching pain in my lower abdomen. I mistook it for my cycle, as I was due to start any day, and simply popped a couple of Midol pills and kept working. Twenty minutes later, I began to feel worse. My head was spinning, I had chills, and I was extremely fatigued. My mind went from assuming it was my cycle to mistaking it for the flu. Being one to take over adversity before it strikes, I decided to head home and start my medical remedies early.

I stood up, took three steps, and hit the floor.

Three days later, I woke up in the hospital. Troy was sitting next to me with tears in his eyes. I had never seen him so much as break a sweat. The sight of him showing any type of emotion scared me. I wasn't sure what happened, but once the doctor finally came in and told me I passed out again.

I had a miscarriage. When I fell my head hit the desk so hard it knocked me out cold. Nothing was making sense to me anymore. I didn't even know I was pregnant. How could I lose something I never had? That one sentinel event started a whirlwind of others. I began to lose everything left and right. First, it was my first child. Then we lost one of our biggest clients due to a contract dispute. When my mother passed away a month later I literally lost my mind. She was my strength, my backbone, my shoulder to lean on. In two weeks she learned that she had - and lost her life to - breast cancer. And now, I've lost Troy.

I had reached my breaking point. I grabbed my newly refilled bottle of Celexa and took all 30 capsules, along with a bottle of Absolut. I was ready to end it all. I lost my mother and my child that I will never know. Troy had finally put his foot down and left me. Suddenly, I realized that the successful business, the 4 bedroom home, the luxury cars that were parked in our garage, the multi-million dollar clientele list, and the material things we gained meant nothing at all. Everything and everyone that I loved was gone. What else did I have left?

Before I passed out, I managed to write Troy a letter. Everything seemed to fall on me. He didn't ask for, or deserve, whatever karma kept throwing my way. I apologized for everything, from losing his child to making his life miserable. I also set him free so he wouldn't feel any angst or guilt over my decision to end my contract with God here. I sealed the letter, addressed it to his mother, and made it to the mailbox for the postal carrier to pick up. The second I closed the door my body went limp.

I woke up in my mother's arms. She had the most peaceful yet concerning look on her face.

"Momma, is that you?"

"Yes it is, Sara. Why are you here? What did you do to yourself?"

"I couldn't take it anymore, Momma. It was too much for me to bear. I lost my baby, then I lost you. Nothing else mattered anymore."

"I understand baby, but you're stronger than that. Besides, its not your time to come home."

"But I'm ready! There's nothing left for me down there. Everyone that matters is already here."

Suddenly, I heard the sweetest voice behind me.

"I need you down there mommy, or I won't be born."

I turned my head. Standing before me was my daughter. A cute, curly-haired, bright-eyed beauty with eyes that sparkled and the cutest dimple in her cheeks. She wasn't hard to recognize because she looked just like me. I instinctively reached out for her. She ran into my arms and gave me the warmest hug. As she pulled back, she took her little fingers and wiped away my tears.

"You have to go back, mommy! Daddy's trying to save you. See?"

She pointed just beyond my mother. I could see someone trying to revive me. He was clearly a doctor, but it wasn't Troy.

"I don't understand. What's happening?"

I began to feel shaky. My vision was fading away. My mother and daughter were fading away along with it.

"It's okay, baby." My mother said. "Like I said, it's not your time."

"I don't want to go back! When will I see you again?"

"Whenever you close your eyes and think of me, I will be right there."

"...and I'll be there in a couple of years, right Grandma?!"

"Right, Sweet Pea."

"We love go back and start all over, and every once in a while take a moment to just be still and love yourself. It's okay to enjoy what's on the outside, but cherish what's inside of you even more."

With those fading words, I regained consciousness in the hospital. As I looked up at the doctor who saved my life, I saw my daughter's eyes. I guess I did have something to live for after all. Thank God those pills were still at the lowest strength.

...enjoy what's on the outside, but cherish what's inside of you even more.

"Thank you, momma." I whispered. Those were definitely words to live by.