I glanced at my phone. Still no missed calls. What the hell? Surely they weren’t so damn busy in Stigler, Oklahoma that Doc couldn’t pick up his phone to call me or at least text a friendly, “Hello.” I tried calling again. Three rings and the “Hi, this is-“ voicemail message cued making me slide my phone shut and throw it across the room.
“’Chelle?”
“WHAT?”
“Everything ok?”
Hell no. My goddamn husband was ignoring me. “He’s just really, really busy. So busy infact that calling his wife EVER is too damn difficult.”
“Well, I’m sure he really is pretty busy-“
“Oh, I know he is. I just find it hard to believe he can’t find an excuse to send me a hello.” I stared at the phone on the floor. Evelyn gurgled saliva bubbles with her fingers shoved in her mouth and stared where it had thudded. “I’m done trying to get a hold of him. If he’s too damn busy for me I can sure as hell be too damn busy for him.”
“Do you think that’s the right thing to do?”
“No, but I’m tired of feeling like a freaking teenage girl. I shouldn’t have to beg for him to call me.” I picked my phone up and shoved it in the bottom of my purse. Done trying.
That night I ignored a phone call that came in at 10:30 and woke me up. In the morning, I didn’t send a hello or try to call. I kept my phone on silent and went to work. No sending texts, no phone calls. Around 2 PM, I received this text:
“Hey honey, I miss you.”
I bet he did. I bet he missed me trailing after him like an attention hungry dog. God forbid my every moment didn’t hang on his stupid ass schedule. Like hell I was going to respond. How about you trail after me? And then at 4 PM:
“I love you, honey. I miss both of you. How was your day?”
Nope. Not responding. He could see how it felt to try to reach out and get nothing back. He could see what it felt like to really need support during your day and get nothing but a voice message or disappointing inbox checks. A phone call at 6, ignored.
Then at 7:30, I answered:
Doc: Hey! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.
ME: I’ve been busy.
Doc: Was everything okay at school today?
Me: Fine, but I really don’t have time to talk right now, I’m helping my mom with the dishes.
Doc: Okay, well, will you call me later.
Me: Yeah, if I have time I guess.
Doc: Okay. I love you.
Me: Love you, bye.
I hung up and looked at my mom, who was cleaning up the kitchen with a tsking look of disapproval on her brow.
“Funny,” I said, “how when I ignore him he starts lavishing on the ‘I love yous’ and trying to actually talk to me every now and then.”
She just shook her head. Yeah, I was being petty, but dammit he’d left me alone with our daughter. I was not interested in the single parent game. I got a max of four hours of sleep a night and had no help. He was off in quiet middle of nowhere sleeping a good eight hours and eating gourmet homemaker wife cooking while I worked my ass off all day and then took care of my daughter and tutored my sisters until it was time for dinner and then the drive home and bed. Then I was up all night taking care of my baby. Son of a bitch.
As I loaded Evelyn into her car seat to head home I threw my phone in the front seat. I turned the IPOD to play Nickel Creek and started the half hour drive back to my house. On impulse I switched the song to This Side.
“One day you’ll see her and you’ll know what I mean,
Take her or leave her she will still be the same…”
That song used to be my anthem. I claimed in high school that it had been written about me. I was that girl who didn’t need you, but you wanted anyway. I was that capable, amazing, independent, free-spirited-
Well shit I wasn’t acting like any of those things. I was being a whiney, childish brat. I glanced at the phone in the passenger seat. Damn it all to hell. With a reluctant sigh I picked it up and dialed Doc’s number.
Doc: Hey!
Me: Hey.
Doc: Are you busy now?
Me: No, I’m just driving home. Evelyn is sleeping in the car seat.
Doc: It sounds like your day was pretty busy. I’m sorry honey, I wish I could be there to help.
Despite myself I felt the familiar stinging commonly associated with tears forming in the corners of your eyes.
Me: I wish you were here too. It’s hard being alone here. I feel like a single parent and I hate it.
Doc: I hate it too. But I’ll be home in two days, hon. We can go do something fun this weekend if you want! Let’s go to the market on Saturday!”
Me: Hon, I feel really lonely when you don’t call me all day or even at all that day.
Doc: I’m sorry. We were in three different clinics today and I’m with the doctor all the time. Even when I can call you I have no privacy. I’m in my room at their house now, but it’s just…
Me: Yeah, I understand. I love you.
Doc: I love you.
Me: I’ll talk to you later?
Doc: Okay. Bye, honey. Sleep well.
Me: I’ll try.
I spent the rest of the drive thinking about what kind of mother I wanted to be. I didn’t want to yell. I didn’t want to be passive-aggressive. I wanted to be happy and full of life. I wanted to live the life I wanted for my daughter.
I walked into the house, laid Evelyn down, and picked up a dry erase marker. The bathroom mirror soon read “Stop Bitching. It’s not sexy.” Stepping back, I smiled at the blue ink. Before meeting Doc, I was entirely self-sufficient. This would be much better if I would go back to depending on myself and stop expecting my white knight to bail me out.
The next morning, I woke up before Evelyn. I made the bed, showered, and gathered my books for the day. By the time my mom arrived to pick Evelyn up, she was ready and I was walking out the door smiling. No more grumpy bitch. Hello modern woman!
Doc wasn’t able to call much the rest of the week, or the next week. His supervising physician was tagging him onto other doctors who worked night clinics so he had almost no spare time. I didn’t try to bait him or ignore him anymore, I just accepted the happy times I did get to talk to him.
By the end of the month, I was used to Doc never calling. I was completely capable of taking care of Evelyn by myself and still being ready to go at work. I was even making progress on the papers I had to write for my seminar class. I would come home from work, start dinner, wash some laundry, nurse Evelyn, strap her in the tummy carrier, clean the house, eat, feed Evelyn again, put her to bed, do the dishes, and go to bed myself without crying about how hard it was. I had learned how to get along without Doc again. Now, with Doc back at home every day, that was precisely the problem. I didn’t need him.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Found my plot
Well, the book will end on a happy note with a chapter about Midsummer. We managed to do several things in the last week.
1.) have the best sex ever
2.) finally break down and talk about Doc doing surgery
3.) let our little one's candle go
4.) Evelyn slept through the night
5.) I got a job interview
Sounds like a nice happy note to end hte book on...now I just really need to delve into all the shit that has happened since Evelyn was born and get some of the major struggles down...here are hte ones I can see
1.) finally letting our lost one go
2.) Getting off page with doc after he's gone for a month and struggling to get back
3.) confidence in my style of motherhood
4.) job search sucking and how I overcome the feeling of worthlessness
So yeah, a plot has sort of emerged. I need to expand a ton on the midsection of the book. I finally penned out a few fights Doc and I had (some he didn't even know were fights at the time). I'll share one in the post after this.
1.) have the best sex ever
2.) finally break down and talk about Doc doing surgery
3.) let our little one's candle go
4.) Evelyn slept through the night
5.) I got a job interview
Sounds like a nice happy note to end hte book on...now I just really need to delve into all the shit that has happened since Evelyn was born and get some of the major struggles down...here are hte ones I can see
1.) finally letting our lost one go
2.) Getting off page with doc after he's gone for a month and struggling to get back
3.) confidence in my style of motherhood
4.) job search sucking and how I overcome the feeling of worthlessness
So yeah, a plot has sort of emerged. I need to expand a ton on the midsection of the book. I finally penned out a few fights Doc and I had (some he didn't even know were fights at the time). I'll share one in the post after this.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Uninspired?
June 21st is Midsummer. I believe that our Midsummer festivities will wrap up the portion of my life I intend to include in the first book I am writing.
I think I'm starting to see some of the developments of plot within my life.
I realized recently that some people I had trouble getting along with in the past are much more like me than I thought. I realized that I had only known them during the worst years of their life and had never really given them credit for the stress they have indured while I have known them.
Motherhood makes you more forgiving and more open in someways, and more judgemental in others. I think overall, motherhood has improved me.
My brand of motherhood is perfect for us, and following my own instincts has been immensly rewarding. I am happiest when I follow my own heart, even if it leads to a sloppy looking mommy.
Babies put strain on relationships, but overcoming the strain and reconnecting is a wonderful way to fall in love all over again. Doc and I were on different pages for a while, but have recently realigned ourselves and I don't think I have ever been happier.
I think I'm starting to see some of the developments of plot within my life.
I realized recently that some people I had trouble getting along with in the past are much more like me than I thought. I realized that I had only known them during the worst years of their life and had never really given them credit for the stress they have indured while I have known them.
Motherhood makes you more forgiving and more open in someways, and more judgemental in others. I think overall, motherhood has improved me.
My brand of motherhood is perfect for us, and following my own instincts has been immensly rewarding. I am happiest when I follow my own heart, even if it leads to a sloppy looking mommy.
Babies put strain on relationships, but overcoming the strain and reconnecting is a wonderful way to fall in love all over again. Doc and I were on different pages for a while, but have recently realigned ourselves and I don't think I have ever been happier.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The hardest chapter I've ever written
Disposing of a Candle
My 21st birthday was spent shivering. I sat huddled shivering under blankets in a freezing apartment with my 2 month old puppy, waiting for Doc to finish taking his finals in the dark. The worst ice storm I have ever seen struck Tulsa just before my birthday. So instead of getting to go bar hopping and drunk off my ass, I ended up settling for a pina colada from Chili’s. A Chili’s we drove 20 miles to find so I could purchase alcohol to have some symbolence of the big occasion.
Now I was turning 22. No ice storm. No shivering under blankets. My best friend was taking me out for a night on the town, or at least what Tulsa could provide for that. Luckily, my period was a tad late so I didn’t have cramps to bog me down. Maybe I was a year late, but I was going to have my 21st bash. We’d been trying to conceive for a while, but no luck. I figured I’d take an EPT just in case, but didn’t expect anything. I peed on the stick and finished doing my make-up just as Maggie pulled up.
I called Doc from the car to check the test. Negative! Off for a night of fun, fun, fun. Or at least, a glass of wine and a margarita over the course of the whole night. I’m not as much for drinking as I thought I’d be. I like the warm fuzzy feeling but hate feeling out of control in anyway. We went to a nice dinner and out to a “nice try” of a dance club and had too much fun.
The next morning I stumbled into the restroom, peed, and started to brush the bar taste out of my mouth. And there it was. Staring at me in the trashcan. One bright purple test line and one faint, almost invisible purple line. Two lines. Two lines.
“HONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?!?!?!” I dug the test out of the trashcan and ran to the bedroom to show him the test.
“It said negative last night.”
“What the hell do you mean it said negative last night? They don’t just change answers!!”
“I don’t know!” Doc yanked the test from my hand and stared at it . “It’s barely there, I don’t know what that means.”
“Where the hell is the box?” I charged back into the bathroom and pulled the box out. “I’m taking another one. Maybe that one was just a fluke.”
Doc grabbed the box from me. “Have you peed yet?”
“Yeah. So what?”
“You’re supposed to use first morning urine.”
“What? So I’m supposed to wait a day. Hell no!”
I peed on the stick. One purple line. Ten minutes later, the ghost line appeared. What the hell?!?!?!
Two tests later and still a faint line showing up. The whole box must have been defective!
I went and bought the most expensive EPT test at Walgreens. I would just take it tomorrow and everything would be fine.
Doc left early to work a library shift. I dragged myself out of bed and decided to finally face the music.
I peed. I waited 2 minutes. I read. I grabbed my phone and dialed.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit shit shit shit-
Doc answered the phone.
“Yes?”
“Um. Honey. This one is definitely positive.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s freaking bright purple. TWO bright purple lines, like as soon as I peed on it. The other four were pretty faint but this one is definitely…definitely….oh god….”
“Well, bring it here. I want to see it.”
“Are you serious? You want me to bring a pee stick to the library?!”
“…Kinda.”
“Oh my god. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
I drove over to the medical school and walked in. Doc met me and followed me into the hallway. I pulled out that stick and showed it to him. He smiled and hugged me. And in that moment I realized, I was going to be a mom. Butterflies welled up in my stomach and I felt giddy.
“We’re going to have a baby!” I yelled.
“Shhh! Geez hon it is a school,” Doc hushed half heartedly. He kissed me and hugged me again. “I’ve got to get back but I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Ok!”
“I love you.”
As soon as I left the school I called my mom. “Mom. If I tell you something can you promise you will keep it a secret.”
“Yeah, I promise.”
“I took a pregnancy test and it was positive.”
“Oh my God, why would you tell me that? You want me to keep that a secret?”
“Just until we get a chance to announce it.”
“Oh my God! Oh my God!”
“Mom, don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“Okay, I gotta go.”
My mom proceeded to call every aunt, uncle, cousin, grandparent, neighbor, or person she ran into at the super market. Meanwhile, I took a picture of the positive pregnancy test, as well as a few of a miniature tree I had decorated for the holidays. When Doc came home, we called Janis. “Janis, you need to check your email! I sent you pictures of the tree!”
“Ok. Um…there it is.”
Doc and I smiled as she oohed and ahhed over the pictures of the tree. Then she was silent.
“Mom?” Doc asked.
“That’s not a tree.”
“No, it isn’t.”
More silence. “You guys aren’t pulling my leg are you?”
“No, Janis. That would be cruel, haha.”
“Oh wow, we’re having a baby!” Janis’ voice gave away the tears she was already forming. Doc and I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with excitement. Just moments later Facebook was shouting to the world that we were going to be parents.
Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year. It’s full of good food and family. Doc and I were off from school and we were going to get to see family. Already pushing my too-tight jeans’ limit, Janis took me to buy a few of my first maternity clothes. I felt sleepy and a little bloated, but was milking the pregnant thing for all it was worth.
“Are you really going to let your pregnant wife get her own tea? Are you going to make your pregnant wife get her own pickle? My poor pregnant feet need to be rubbed.” And Doc took it all in stride. He’d roll his eyes but do whatever I wanted and enjoy his daddy-to-be duties whether or not he cared to admit it.
Everyone was excited. My little sisters kept talking to my darling little fetus. My mom even took me shopping to buy a nice dress that my growing belly would fit under for a wedding we were going to a few days after Christmas. It was a beautiful dark blue silk dress that made me really feel like I had that beautiful pregnant glow everyone talks about. Doc must have agreed because as soon as we got to our hotel in Houston for the wedding, we decided to “break in” the hotel room. Pregnant sex is amazing when your hormones are acting favorably. The wedding was a beautiful small wedding in a butterfly dome followed by a reception at a lovely little restaurant. The bride and groom had even made sure that the wait staff brought me Ginger Ale to do the wedding toasts with. We laughed and enjoyed ourselves. I nearly sobbed from laughter while the Best Man recounted what could have been if he’d asked the bride out before his brother.
I especially enjoyed while watching some of Doc’s med school buddies get wasted, particularly a couple friend of ours. Kristin refused an additional drink from the waiter with a “Oh My God. I shouldn’t! When I get drunk I either get tired or really horny!”
To which her boyfriend replied, “Well then by all means have another!”
I laughingly dismissed myself to run off to the ladies’ room. It had been such a nice evening. I was a little tired but-
There was blood in my underwear.
“Would you like to speak to the doctor on call?”
“Yes, please.”
“Ok, she’ll call you shortly.”
“We had sex earlier tonight, could that have caused it?”
“Absolutely. Unless it gets really heavy or bright red, it’s pretty normal. Just don’t have sex or use a tampon or anything. Make sure you are drinking plenty of water and take it easy.”
“Ok.”
“How far along are you?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t made it into the office yet. I think around 11 weeks.”
“Ok. Well just call if it gets worse.”
“Ok, thank you.”
I tend to panic about things, but nothing had felt wrong. I didn’t have a bad feeling or anything. It had to just have been the sex, but it was still pretty scary. In just a few short weeks I had already started talking to my little fetus. I’d been keeping a pregnancy journal writing letter to my little peanut. The sudden realization that something could happen to my baby was a shock.
“Hey, ‘Chelle.” My mom came into my room at their house and sat down next to me. “I had some spotting when I was pregnant with you and it was nothing. I know it’s scary, but I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s just scary.” I tried to buck up, but I’d had occasional spotting for two days. I guess you have to tone sex down a lot during pregnancy. At this rate, Doc was going to have to make do with celibacy for the next two trimesters because this was too scary to deal with again.
Doc and I went back to Tulsa New Year’s Eve. It was wonderful to be back in my own bed again. I had an appointment in a few days to see the doctor and they would do an ultrasound to show me my baby and her little heartbeat. I had a gut feeling she was a girl. Our daughter.
The contractions started just a little after 2 A.M. I went to the bathroom thinking I had gas pain to find that my underwear was soaked with bright red blood. I think my heart stopped beating for a few seconds until the next contraction started and tears started streaming down my face. I climbed into the shower and sat on the floor, watching the water wash clumps of tissue and blood down the drain. I watched all of the excitement and joy I’d felt wash away and all that remained was pure agony. I couldn’t control my sobs as my body shook. I cried out repeatedly, partly from the pain of the contractions expelling the life that would never be and partly from the white hot grief that consumed me.
Doc woke to the sound of me crying and ran into the bathroom. He flung back the shower curtain.
“Honey? Are you okay?”
“She’s gone. She’s gone. My baby.”
Doc held my soaking wet body close to him and tried to give me any comfort he could, but I felt so broken, so empty that even his warmth felt foreign.
I didn’t need the ultrasound two days later to tell me that “my uterus was empty”. I didn’t need the doctor to tell me that “it looks like I had a miscarriage.” I saw the little shrimplike figure that was my child in a toilet seat and watched her swirl around and disappear like a dead goldfish.
On top of my grief, I felt like a disappointment. Like I had failed everyone who was excited, especially Janis. Janis, who had needed this, needed something good since her mother had died, and I’d failed. My body had failed.
I laid in bed for a week. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to see anyone. I wanted to fade away. I hoped that maybe if I laid there long enough, it would go away. All I wanted was to have my baby back.
My 21st birthday was spent shivering. I sat huddled shivering under blankets in a freezing apartment with my 2 month old puppy, waiting for Doc to finish taking his finals in the dark. The worst ice storm I have ever seen struck Tulsa just before my birthday. So instead of getting to go bar hopping and drunk off my ass, I ended up settling for a pina colada from Chili’s. A Chili’s we drove 20 miles to find so I could purchase alcohol to have some symbolence of the big occasion.
Now I was turning 22. No ice storm. No shivering under blankets. My best friend was taking me out for a night on the town, or at least what Tulsa could provide for that. Luckily, my period was a tad late so I didn’t have cramps to bog me down. Maybe I was a year late, but I was going to have my 21st bash. We’d been trying to conceive for a while, but no luck. I figured I’d take an EPT just in case, but didn’t expect anything. I peed on the stick and finished doing my make-up just as Maggie pulled up.
I called Doc from the car to check the test. Negative! Off for a night of fun, fun, fun. Or at least, a glass of wine and a margarita over the course of the whole night. I’m not as much for drinking as I thought I’d be. I like the warm fuzzy feeling but hate feeling out of control in anyway. We went to a nice dinner and out to a “nice try” of a dance club and had too much fun.
The next morning I stumbled into the restroom, peed, and started to brush the bar taste out of my mouth. And there it was. Staring at me in the trashcan. One bright purple test line and one faint, almost invisible purple line. Two lines. Two lines.
“HONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?!?!?!” I dug the test out of the trashcan and ran to the bedroom to show him the test.
“It said negative last night.”
“What the hell do you mean it said negative last night? They don’t just change answers!!”
“I don’t know!” Doc yanked the test from my hand and stared at it . “It’s barely there, I don’t know what that means.”
“Where the hell is the box?” I charged back into the bathroom and pulled the box out. “I’m taking another one. Maybe that one was just a fluke.”
Doc grabbed the box from me. “Have you peed yet?”
“Yeah. So what?”
“You’re supposed to use first morning urine.”
“What? So I’m supposed to wait a day. Hell no!”
I peed on the stick. One purple line. Ten minutes later, the ghost line appeared. What the hell?!?!?!
Two tests later and still a faint line showing up. The whole box must have been defective!
I went and bought the most expensive EPT test at Walgreens. I would just take it tomorrow and everything would be fine.
Doc left early to work a library shift. I dragged myself out of bed and decided to finally face the music.
I peed. I waited 2 minutes. I read. I grabbed my phone and dialed.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit shit shit shit-
Doc answered the phone.
“Yes?”
“Um. Honey. This one is definitely positive.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s freaking bright purple. TWO bright purple lines, like as soon as I peed on it. The other four were pretty faint but this one is definitely…definitely….oh god….”
“Well, bring it here. I want to see it.”
“Are you serious? You want me to bring a pee stick to the library?!”
“…Kinda.”
“Oh my god. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
I drove over to the medical school and walked in. Doc met me and followed me into the hallway. I pulled out that stick and showed it to him. He smiled and hugged me. And in that moment I realized, I was going to be a mom. Butterflies welled up in my stomach and I felt giddy.
“We’re going to have a baby!” I yelled.
“Shhh! Geez hon it is a school,” Doc hushed half heartedly. He kissed me and hugged me again. “I’ve got to get back but I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Ok!”
“I love you.”
As soon as I left the school I called my mom. “Mom. If I tell you something can you promise you will keep it a secret.”
“Yeah, I promise.”
“I took a pregnancy test and it was positive.”
“Oh my God, why would you tell me that? You want me to keep that a secret?”
“Just until we get a chance to announce it.”
“Oh my God! Oh my God!”
“Mom, don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“Okay, I gotta go.”
My mom proceeded to call every aunt, uncle, cousin, grandparent, neighbor, or person she ran into at the super market. Meanwhile, I took a picture of the positive pregnancy test, as well as a few of a miniature tree I had decorated for the holidays. When Doc came home, we called Janis. “Janis, you need to check your email! I sent you pictures of the tree!”
“Ok. Um…there it is.”
Doc and I smiled as she oohed and ahhed over the pictures of the tree. Then she was silent.
“Mom?” Doc asked.
“That’s not a tree.”
“No, it isn’t.”
More silence. “You guys aren’t pulling my leg are you?”
“No, Janis. That would be cruel, haha.”
“Oh wow, we’re having a baby!” Janis’ voice gave away the tears she was already forming. Doc and I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with excitement. Just moments later Facebook was shouting to the world that we were going to be parents.
Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year. It’s full of good food and family. Doc and I were off from school and we were going to get to see family. Already pushing my too-tight jeans’ limit, Janis took me to buy a few of my first maternity clothes. I felt sleepy and a little bloated, but was milking the pregnant thing for all it was worth.
“Are you really going to let your pregnant wife get her own tea? Are you going to make your pregnant wife get her own pickle? My poor pregnant feet need to be rubbed.” And Doc took it all in stride. He’d roll his eyes but do whatever I wanted and enjoy his daddy-to-be duties whether or not he cared to admit it.
Everyone was excited. My little sisters kept talking to my darling little fetus. My mom even took me shopping to buy a nice dress that my growing belly would fit under for a wedding we were going to a few days after Christmas. It was a beautiful dark blue silk dress that made me really feel like I had that beautiful pregnant glow everyone talks about. Doc must have agreed because as soon as we got to our hotel in Houston for the wedding, we decided to “break in” the hotel room. Pregnant sex is amazing when your hormones are acting favorably. The wedding was a beautiful small wedding in a butterfly dome followed by a reception at a lovely little restaurant. The bride and groom had even made sure that the wait staff brought me Ginger Ale to do the wedding toasts with. We laughed and enjoyed ourselves. I nearly sobbed from laughter while the Best Man recounted what could have been if he’d asked the bride out before his brother.
I especially enjoyed while watching some of Doc’s med school buddies get wasted, particularly a couple friend of ours. Kristin refused an additional drink from the waiter with a “Oh My God. I shouldn’t! When I get drunk I either get tired or really horny!”
To which her boyfriend replied, “Well then by all means have another!”
I laughingly dismissed myself to run off to the ladies’ room. It had been such a nice evening. I was a little tired but-
There was blood in my underwear.
“Would you like to speak to the doctor on call?”
“Yes, please.”
“Ok, she’ll call you shortly.”
“We had sex earlier tonight, could that have caused it?”
“Absolutely. Unless it gets really heavy or bright red, it’s pretty normal. Just don’t have sex or use a tampon or anything. Make sure you are drinking plenty of water and take it easy.”
“Ok.”
“How far along are you?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t made it into the office yet. I think around 11 weeks.”
“Ok. Well just call if it gets worse.”
“Ok, thank you.”
I tend to panic about things, but nothing had felt wrong. I didn’t have a bad feeling or anything. It had to just have been the sex, but it was still pretty scary. In just a few short weeks I had already started talking to my little fetus. I’d been keeping a pregnancy journal writing letter to my little peanut. The sudden realization that something could happen to my baby was a shock.
“Hey, ‘Chelle.” My mom came into my room at their house and sat down next to me. “I had some spotting when I was pregnant with you and it was nothing. I know it’s scary, but I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s just scary.” I tried to buck up, but I’d had occasional spotting for two days. I guess you have to tone sex down a lot during pregnancy. At this rate, Doc was going to have to make do with celibacy for the next two trimesters because this was too scary to deal with again.
Doc and I went back to Tulsa New Year’s Eve. It was wonderful to be back in my own bed again. I had an appointment in a few days to see the doctor and they would do an ultrasound to show me my baby and her little heartbeat. I had a gut feeling she was a girl. Our daughter.
The contractions started just a little after 2 A.M. I went to the bathroom thinking I had gas pain to find that my underwear was soaked with bright red blood. I think my heart stopped beating for a few seconds until the next contraction started and tears started streaming down my face. I climbed into the shower and sat on the floor, watching the water wash clumps of tissue and blood down the drain. I watched all of the excitement and joy I’d felt wash away and all that remained was pure agony. I couldn’t control my sobs as my body shook. I cried out repeatedly, partly from the pain of the contractions expelling the life that would never be and partly from the white hot grief that consumed me.
Doc woke to the sound of me crying and ran into the bathroom. He flung back the shower curtain.
“Honey? Are you okay?”
“She’s gone. She’s gone. My baby.”
Doc held my soaking wet body close to him and tried to give me any comfort he could, but I felt so broken, so empty that even his warmth felt foreign.
I didn’t need the ultrasound two days later to tell me that “my uterus was empty”. I didn’t need the doctor to tell me that “it looks like I had a miscarriage.” I saw the little shrimplike figure that was my child in a toilet seat and watched her swirl around and disappear like a dead goldfish.
On top of my grief, I felt like a disappointment. Like I had failed everyone who was excited, especially Janis. Janis, who had needed this, needed something good since her mother had died, and I’d failed. My body had failed.
I laid in bed for a week. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to see anyone. I wanted to fade away. I hoped that maybe if I laid there long enough, it would go away. All I wanted was to have my baby back.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)