I’ve cried three times today.
The first time I was on my way to my post-op check up. I was listening to k.d. lang’s Asleep with No Dreaming in the car, and the lyrics and soaring notes kind of hit me. I bit my lip and blinked away the tears. Then, because I’d squashed the sadness, I got a bit angry at the guy in front of me who couldn’t decide what lane he wanted to be in. I let it go… I asked myself Will this matter a year from now? and the answer was No!! But my miscarriage will matter a year from now. And probably the year after that, ad nauseam…
I got to the clinic and took a deep breath before I entered. To my great relief and shame, the waiting room was empty. Minutes later waiting in the exam room, naked from the waist down and covered in a modesty sheet, I heard kwew-kwew-kwew, the sound of a steady fetal heartbeat in the adjacent room. A hollow whooshing sound filled with so much potential. I stared numbly at my freshly-painted toenails (I’d gone au naturel when I was pregnant) and bit my lip again.
I was alright until Dr. D., the lovely doctor who performed my surgery, asked me if I was in any pain. I felt my face crumple and although I’m sure my expression said it all, I did my best to explain how that I’ve been hit hard emotionally now that the physical pain is gone. I told her I suspected some of it was hormonal, and she agreed but was also very quick to add that miscarriage is a real loss and it’s important to grieve.
On a related side-note, Dr D. is right. I found an article that’s good reading if you have suffered a miscarriage — whether the mother, the father, a lesbian couple, a grandmother, or a teenager, we’re all acknowledged and validated:
“Another common misunderstanding about miscarriage is that a woman will experience less grief if she loses the baby early in her pregnancy. But most researchers have not been able to find an association between the length of gestation and intensity of grief, anxiety or depression… A woman who has lost her child at 11 weeks may be as distraught as a woman who has lost her child at 20 weeks…”
Miscarriage and Loss – Elizabeth Leis-Newman – American Psychological Association
My post-op check up went well. Everything feels normal, no signs of infection, and I can resume all physical activities as of Thursday. (Just in time for Tai Chi on Friday!) But I have been advised to wait a couple of cycles before being able to try again, and that feels like f.o.r.e.v.e.r. right now. I think if I were younger (read: had time on my side) I would feel less stressed and anxious and upset about waiting until (realistically) June…
The third time I cried was the most indulgent. I was at home, downloading photos off my camera and iPhone. Of course, I saw images of my positive pregnancy test and a picture of me in my underwear with the tiniest of bumps and bigger boobs than I have now. Right then, I lost it. I flung myself on my bed and covered my head with a pillow. I sobbed, clutching my Jizō in one hand and my pebble in the other.
Yes, I really was pregnant. I have to remind myself, because in some ways it’s easier to pretend I never was.
{ coda }
After my check-up I had business in downtown San Diego. Walking to my client’s office, I had a call from my adoptive American grandmother who wanted to say how sorry she was that I’d had a miscarriage. It was a short conversation because we kept getting interrupted by planes landing at San Diego airport — turns out I was standing directly underneath the flight path!
There really is something exhilarating about planes flying low overhead, so I made y’all a video :)
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