God?
Rarely do I find myself quite this angry at God. In fact, on one hand, I can list the times I have been this angry. My Cancer. Emily's Death. When Mulder Was Taken. Losing William. Today.
I got to the hospital this morning and on rounds, made a point to stop by Natalie's bed. Overnight, she'd been taken from our care. A girl in end stage cancer in need of 24 hour monitoring and she was whisked away from us in the middle of the night. No records, only a signature from a doctor at another hospital. One that I can't track down. It seems all too familiar to me. And of course the administration is giving me the run around - accompanied with the exasperated sigh.
All. Too. Familiar.
Is this what being set free means for us? That the same patters will crop up again? Or have I reached a point in my paranoia when everything feels like a conspiracy? For all my begging of Mulder to take us both away from that awful darkness, I can admit to myself that I am forever looking over my shoulder at the encroaching shadows. He may revel in what those shadows hold, but they are also never far from me. By now, I know he has figured out that my constant arguing usually means that I am only trying to prove myself wrong ... but there are days, like today, when I know just how right he is. At least he does not deny what is out there. I do believe, I try to believe, I want to believe ... and on days like today ... I cannot help but believe.
Natalie's disappearance makes me think not only of the connections to Emily, but to the son I will never see again. But if there are still Natalie's out there, who am I to think that William is safe? What if his adoptive parents cannot keep him safe? What if I gave up on him?
Don't give up ... three words that had their meaning changed for me earlier this year. Now, I wonder if I shouldn't have given up on William. What if by giving him up, I did indeed give up on him? I listened to my instincts, but what if they were wrong. What if my instincts were telling me to run into a burning barn? Horses do it. Moths fly to a flame. What if I should have held onto him. What if his mother truly is the only one who could keep him safe?
I thought I had dealt with these emotions. Never to truly be healed, but filed away and through them to understand that the past cannot be changed. But what if I made a mistake? What if I made a mistake? What if he's sitting there right now, in danger because I wasn't strong enough? What more I could have done, I don't know. But isn't a mother's duty to do everything possible to keep her son safe? What if I just gave up?
And in other news, I finally spoke to our new neurologist, Mark Dennison. He's ordered an MRI so that he can take a closer look at what is going on. This is a gift to Mulder, who is growing increasingly concerned over my migraines. I have to admit I am as well. Mark wants to possibly prescribe something but he wants to see films first.
Why am I nervous?
-Dana Scully-