On a cloudy March morning, I dropped the girls off at school and made my weekly trip to Target…alone. I love going to Target..alone. I had my list…toilet paper, milk, bread, lunch meat, sushi, apples..and whatever else caught my eye. I have never left Target for under $100, so I knew I would find some goodies. Target is like crack for 30 something moms. My first detour led me to the maternity department. At almost 10 weeks pregnant, I was starting to wear a lot of stretch pants and thought that perhaps I could buy a few cute tops until I could really get out shopping for my new wardrobe. Drip drip drip…hhmmm, please let that not be what I think it is. Gosh, look at this cute top…it is amazing in just 3 short years, how much better everything gets..drip drip drip. Hhmmm, should I buy this top. No, let’s put it back and come back tomorrow if I still need it. I still have to get the groceries.
Let’s see – milk, butter, bread…drip, drip, drip..oh dear God, please don’t let that be what I think it is…mac n cheese, peanut butter, toilet paper, frozen waffles…drip drip drip…dammit, really? Jelly, can of tomatoes, yummy new salad dressing, apples…drip drip drip…for goodness sakes….contact solution, band-aids, pads….crap…I don’t want to buy pads, I don’t need pads for another 6 months..I am not buying pads today…drip drip drip…okay..grab a cantaloupe and some sushi for Esther’s lunch and I am out of here…off to pay…drip, drip drip..do they see it written on my face.
Groceries in the car – driving home…groceries unloaded..drip, drip drip….sit down and talk to myself. “Self, you have to go to the bathroom – you have to know.”
Go to the bathroom – blood..everywhere. Crap, I don’t have any pads. I am such an idiot. Loud and aching scream – why why why WHY is this happening AGAIN and AGAIN and AGAIN…WHY WHY WHY…sobbing on the bathroom floor. Make it all just go away. Call the nurse’s line – get an appointment immediately for an ultrasound..call Jed and tell him what is happening…drip drip drip…dammit.
Ultrasound – nothing. Silence. Death. Nothing. I hate how the ultrasound tech can’t say anything – especially to a weeping lady bleeding on her table. “I will have the Radiologist take a look at the results and meet with you shortly.” Gosh thanks…please don’t mind me stealing 40 pads from your changing room whilst I wait for the news that I don’t need to hear from some stranger.
“Ms Morrison – we are so sorry but there are no signs of life – it looks like it wasn’t a viable fetus.” Gosh, she seemed pretty viable when I heard her heat beat 4 days ago. Thanks anyway though – and thanks for the pads!
Meet with my Doctor – schedule a D&C for the next morning under complete sedation – after 3 D&C’s NOT under sedation – I think I deserve some better drugs this time..and want to be out out out…and I want a prescription of something good while I am asking for things..oh, and I am stealing 20 more pads.
Drive home SOBBING – call Kristi – I am not sure what I said..but she knew I needed her. I remember apologizing for asking her to pick me up at 6:30 in the morning to bring me to the hospital – but she was there that morning – as she always is there for me. I love you. I also remember asking her to drop me off that morning and that I would call a cab home..but she didn’t – she stayed the whole time..waiting for me and bringing me a latte afterwards..and I think she took some more pads for me!
Fast-forward 3 months….”final” meeting with my fertility specialist – “I am sorry – but you cannot have more children – unless through major medical or Divine intervention…” Fine…I am okay with that. Really.
Fast-forward to today. My due date. Why do I remember these silly dates – why do I remember September 7th, January 21st, March 16th, October 17th..why do I sometimes sit and think – “I could have a 2 year old right now – or an 18 month old, or a 6 month old, or a newborn…” Why. It is such a lonely thing – because I keep this all to myself..my mourning, my sadness, my memories..and me alone just sits here on these silly days and remembers…basically nothing…and has basically nothing to show for it. Such sadness..over basically nothing.
No, I don’t want to hear how lucky I am to have 2 lovely and healthy girls. No, I don’t. …and really, I am totally okay with not having more kids..really. It is just coming to that total acceptance that part of your life is really over. And, maybe I feel just a bit sad that I didn’t view Esther as my last baby – as maybe I would’ve remembered that sleeping baby on my chest, or those yummy thighs when she was 6 months old, or the last time I nursed her..as I would’ve known that was really the last time. I guess I just wasn’t ready for her to be my last. Maybe I also wasn’t ready to end the phase of my life with so many defeats – and not a baby. I hate losing.
Time heals – and one day soon I won’t get jealous hearing about new pregnancies and new babies, and I will take these silly days and just play play play with my 2 sweet girls and think about how lucky I am…and I know that one day, these silly days will be memories pushed to the back and I won’t even remember what these days meant or why they seem so familiar to me…or why I felt so lonely, but I will only remember the important days that really matter now…and the new memories that I am making.