POETRY Free-form on the mis-fortune of a mis-carriage.
You’re so tiny. So vulnerable, in warm place for the next 9 months that will keep you safe.
You’re so beautiful. So handsome, so beautiful. You have your mother’s eyes, and your father’s smile. You have your own unique prints, there is none like you. You are being formed as I sleep, and as I laugh with your father watching this comedy that just came out. You’re being made as I drive myself to work and as I shower at night before bed. It’s incredible.
I knew you were there – but something was different.
I didn’t feel the way I thought I would feel being pregnant for my first time. Something was off. I knew you were there, but I didn’t feel connected, almost like I knew it would only be a short time before God took you up to the clouds to be an angel of his.
The morning we said good-bye.. I woke up. Ordinary. Still pregnant and starting to change my mind a little. Maybe I COULD let myself become attached. Maybe this was really happening and the shock of my first pregnancy is finally excitement. Worry is finally peace.
I went to the bathroom and noticed blood. I’m kind of a research freak – and so I instantly began reading up on bleeding in early pregnancy, but I’m not sure what I was hoping to find. Relief maybe that this disconnected feeling I had was true. Or reassurance that you would really be gifted to us here on Earth. On to the E.R where they did blood work and trans-vaginal ultrasounds. It traumatized me, the amount of discomfort and pain I felt during these tests, but I needed to know….
I needed to know if you were there…..do you know what is happening? Your soul is already living, because God is forming you as we speak, and because he sees us as we are through him and not as we currently are…are you grown? Are you at peace? Do you know I’m your mommy?
Maybe these were all questions of grief..maybe this is normal for any woman being told not to be hopeful. The truth was, I had no hope. I was scared, and I was alone. Not literally, but it is the most helpless feeling in the world that my body is doing something, terminating, rejecting – my own DNA mixed with my husband’s. I felt disgusted with myself, like I was actually mad at my body for taking matters into its own hands –
I almost forgot, God is the the giver of life…not me. Silly me.
After the tests, I was ushered home by a friend of mine. She was the sweetest. I laid down, I let my husband know what was happening and how afraid I was that this would actually go wrong. He was miles away for training – training I was also supposed to be a part of, but thankfully our baby came just in time to spare me from the gruesome heat of California in July.
I took a prenatal vitamin, and rested for a few hours. I’m not sure why I thought laying down would stop the bleeding, as if it needed to just clot and everything would be dandy.
I felt a little better, and went to lunch with the same girlfriend that was there for me that morning. I remember it so clearly, we ate, and I went to the bathroom to check my pad – I’m still bleeding.
On the way home, the cramps became more intense, and instead of going away and coming back they were constant. It was absolutely the worst cramping I have ever experienced in my life. I ran inside quickly, doubled over trying to hold myself together.
I sat on the toilet and heard the bitter sound of my baby falling into the toilet. So small, almost unrecognizable as a baby – still a fetus, if that – but still my baby. This tiny human that implanted in me and tried to make a home. I cried, and cried. I found a spoon and a plastic bag to bring you back to the hospital with me, as the doctors requested.
And I left without you;
Only the trail of liquid hell between my legs for the next two weeks to remind me of what we didn’t have to look forward to.
You would have been born next month,
BUT You’re an angel ❤
I know you and your brother/sister are keeping Lola company, smiling – laughing – cooing. Flying around with your golden wings….I wish I could fly.
Almost Mommy ❤