when i discovered I was pregnant a few weeks ago, the landscape felt very different. but i didn't know if it really was different, or whether it was just my perception. perception changed still further when i had to abandon my fledgling medication programme to protect the prompter of that little blue line from the flaws of its co-creator. the further behind me i left the drugs, the more i became aware of the distance between us. there was no us. there was me. and something that was going to happen to me in 9 months. on my birthday, as calculations would have it. i didn't like the idea of being cleft and bloody and rent on my birthday.
last weekend, an old friend of S's came for dinner and stayed over. S told me the next morning that that he had told his friend "our little bit of news" after I had gone to bed. That they had smoked cigars on the strength of it. That was the first time I felt nauseous. He shouldn't have done that. Celebrated. Stuff like that draws the attention of the gods.
when the sonographer told me, very sympathetically, this morning that there was no longer a viable pregnancy beneath the pre-warmed (nice touch, btw) contact gel, I cried and I shook. But i can't tell you that it was for the loss of a baby, or relief, or fear of the investment that it represented for my relationship with S. He cried. I wished he wasn't there. His eyes were heavy on me while i tried to listen to the midwife explain about the possibility of an ectopic pregnancy, how they wanted to do blood tests and how big had the clots been over the past two days. His grief was suffocating.
posted by dodo @ 4:00 pm
4 Comments:
I am so very, very sorry.
Sending you a hug. Please know, my heart is with you.
words aren't enough but they're all we have.
perhaps soon i'll come up with some but in the mean time, my giant feet and i will be with you for elevensies tomorrow
Oh, I cannot even express my sadness for what you are going through. I am so sorry. The world makes no sense at times like this, and it feels like too much. If I could, I'd bring you a fuzzy blanket to wrap up in, and tea, and just sit with you in the stillness of it.
My heart goes out to you.
Oh God. I'm so sorry. I've been there and it's a terrible, terrible place.
I wish I could say something to make it better but all I can offer you is a shoulder and a hug.
If you need me I'm an email away.
( jenny@thebloggess dot com)
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