fall into shutdown
Somehow the universe seemed to know,
The moment I start to feel a sense of strength,
A hint that while this wasn’t the journey I chose,
It may be one I could continue,
Possibly even enjoy –
A curve ball comes flying through the air,
And I am powerless to duck,
A king-hit to the back of the head.
And I fall into shutdown,
The blackness washes over me in an instant.
A specialist in front of me is telling us Isaac has a mitochondrial disorder,
Due to abnormal metabolic blood results.
The implications this has for his ongoing health are astronomical.
The implications it has for possible future pregnancy was unbearable to fathom.
There he sits emotionless,
Using words I don’t understand,
Another day in the office –
While our world comes crashing down,
What was coming out loud and clear was the fact that,
We did this to Isaac,
It was our fault with our combination of genes pooled together,
A recipe for disaster,
And he hadn’t stood a chance.
I’m sick to my stomach,
It seemed nothing could prepare me for bad news,
Despite it coming in round after round,
Over and over again,
In that moment,
I give up.
The future is now very very bleak,
Prepare for sickness over gains,
I can’t look at anyone.
I can’t breath.
I want to be so very far away from this consult room.
This is not were I belong.
And then my primitive mothers ears spike,
At word of a biopsy,
To cut out samples of his muscles and organs,
For further testing.
Not a chance!
Haven’t you done enough!
This cannot even be happening.
I want to scream.
But instead I find I’m immobile.
Frozen in a type of induced coma.
Nodding to procedure dates being sent in the mail.
Already resigned to more bad things to follow.
It sucks the life out of me,
As I fear the life being suck out of Isaac.
Before I have a chance to help him.
In slow motion we leave,
Unable to face the phone calls from enquiring family,
Unable to form the words in my mouth.
Disgusted by the shame of it all.
Please let me curl up in a dark corner.
And keep this secret safe.
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