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The Begining of Our End

March 26, 2012

“This won’t end us. Do you hear me, Mimie?” My teeth clinched as I sat up from her hospital bed. My index finger extended out and ridged, pointing at her as my tears dripped down onto her face.

We were both lying in her hospital bed about 15 minutes after we found out we lost our twin daughters, Sophia and Gabriella.

“WE will fight. We will survive.” Anger in my voice.

“People will come and feel sorry for us. They will want to help us. But then they will move on with their lives, and it will just be you and me, Mimie. It’s just you and me, kid (I always told her that). And we will fight to save the US. This WILL NOT END US.” I lay back down by her side.

My body was positioned sideways, lying up against her body as she lay flat on her back. My right arm draped across her large stomach, still holding the loves of our life just lost. The room was quiet. Our silent tears ran down our faces. The heartbreak she must have felt in that moment. The loss of our children would resonate until our final conclusion on March 15, 2012. How much pain does one person have to endure in a lifetime?

That was on October 5, 2006, in the St. Mary’s Hospital maternity ward. We were so excited when we discovered we had twins, almost special-like. Those 38 weeks were the happiest of our lives. We watched the girls grow in the womb every single week because an ultrasound was conducted once a week. One week is by her OBGYN, and the following week is by her prenatal specialist. She was a high-risk pregnancy due to her age and the fact she was carrying our twin girls.

301 words







Christopher Fusaro is the author of Captain Imperfecto.

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Comments

  1. AnonymousNovember 13, 2015 at 4:19 PM

    I've been reading dozens of your posts about your wife. I am so sorry.. I too lost someone I was with. She went in a car accident. I can't help but think about her from time to time, even though it happened in 2010. I hope all is well today brother. I don't mean to pry, but I haven't seen one clue to how it happened.. I'm always curious to know. "The lessons we learn are written on the tombstones of others.". It never gets better. I don't care what anyone says. That part of your heart will always be grey. As is mine. I feel for you. Much love.

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