It all started on December 9th, when we conceived. It was a significant date, being not only my maternal grandmother's 86th birthday but also the three year anniversary of the day we found out we were pregnant with Mycelia.
But we didn't find out that I was pregnant until the 28th. At first I was bummed that we hadn't known before Christmas so that we could have told everyone then, as we had three years ago (the whole fam agreed it was the best gift ever). Of course, that turned out to be a good thing. It seems that it must be less emotionally difficult to hear the news of a miscarriage had by a loved one when you didn't already know they were pregnant.
So, we found out on the 28th. We were surprised, as we hadn't planned it. We joked that it was "subconscious conception" because even though we didn't intend to make a baby at that moment, we had certainly put it out there in words and actions that another little one was welcome to join our family. We had left the back door open.
(Miscarriage, by Yana Payusova)
We were really happy about it. The due date was a few weeks after Mycie's 3rd birthday, and even though I wasn't sure if we were ready to do it all over again, I liked the idea of them being at least that close in age (cause I definitely couldn't have handled having them any closer!). And Mycie was thrilled with the prospect of having a sibling!
Graham and I have both received communication, in different forms, from a little boy spirit who we feel is going to someday be born to us (and I am not the type who is prone to that sort of thing). Even without any prompting from us, Mycie kept talking about her "bruver". All the things she was going to do with him- "I'm going to frow my bruver up in the air! And I'm going to hold my baby bruver! And I'm going to do acro yoga wif my bruver!"
That was the most exciting part about it for me- making my daughter a sister. She even stopped nursing for him. We woke up on the morning of the 28th and nursed, as always. A few hours later I was looking at two pink lines on the pregnancy test. We never nursed again.
I just knew my body wasn't up to it, and it made it so easy when she put up no resistance at all. We'd say "The milk is for the baby now" and she'd say "Yeah, the milk is for the baby now!" and move on. She was so willing to do things for him already! I'd ask her to get me some water and she'd say no, so I'd say "It's for the baby" (I know, I'm terrible, and lazy- or maybe just busy, and tired) and she'd say "Okay, water for the baby!" and rush to do it.
(Alex Grey)
As excited as I was to create a sibling for my child, there was, of course, much more to take into consideration. But as most of you know, that biological, primal, idealistic drive to procreate is stronger than any rational argument against it. I pictured my children playing together, all the memories we would make, all the wonderful things they would learn about together, how they would grow up together into amazing adults with beautiful lives of their own. But we knew that we could be more prepared than we are now, or could feasibly be in 9 months, to bring another new life onto the planet.
The first pregnancy was a total shock to us, two absolutely smitten love birds who had only known each other for a few weeks when we conceived. And, though there's been a lot of love and beauty and joy, we've pretty much spent the three years since playing catch up. Feeling buried. Struggling to make ends meet, organize our lives, prioritize our never-ending to do lists, and try to feed ourselves and keep the house somewhat clean (sound familiar to anyone else?).
So on New Year's Eve, after a fun, kid-friendly get together at our friends' house, Graham and I laid in bed and discussed all of this. We also discussed our uncertain future living situation and, always a joyful topic, our financial situation. And you know how those pregnancy hormones can cause huge emotional outbursts? Well, I had myself a little nervous breakdown after that conversation. I was hysterical with worry, fear, and uncertainty. But I calmed down, eventually, accessed the rational part of my brain that knew that everything would turn out all right, as it always has, and fell asleep.
The next day I noticed that I didn't feel any nausea for the first time, but didn't really pay any attention to it.
The next day, January 2nd (Graham makes fun of me to no end for always noticing and remembering dates, just like my Dad), I noticed some stronger-than-usual cramping in the morning. I mentioned it to Graham, but wasn't worried about it.
Then I went to the bathroom. Blood.
(Frida Kahlo)
I started shaking. I knew right away what was probably happening. It just seemed so unreal. Graham and I laid in bed for a bit, hands on my womb, telling the baby that he could stay if he wanted but that if he needed to leave, he could always come back later. We told him we loved him and couldn't wait to meet him someday.
I got on the internet and read lots of stories of women bleeding and cramping for up to a week and still maintaining the pregnancy and going on to have a healthy baby. These gave me hope, but deep down inside I knew that he was gone.
The cramping was pretty bad, much worse than menstrual cramps. And just a yuckier feeling too- these uncomfortable sensations are getting rid of what would have been my baby, my son, my daughter's brother. I hated them.
And I was sad, yes, very sad. I cried a lot that day. The next day I woke up, came out into the living room, sat down to play with Mycie, and started crying. I spent the rest of that day in bed (for the first time since Mycie's birth almost 2.5 years ago- so that was sort of nice). I'm just glad I wasn't any farther along and didn't know for longer than I had. That must be so tough.
The next day I passed the actual... thing out. It didn't look like a baby (though I found a crazy image of a six week old fetus that was miscarried and looked very much like a little person
here). It was just a piece of tissue, like a placenta, about an inch long and a quarter inch around. Covered in blood, of course. It was neat. I'm glad I got to see and hold it. And it was good to have physical proof that the baby had indeed passed on.
Of course, there's no way to know whether or not my emotional freakout caused the miscarriage, but it may have contributed. I also had a nasty infection (sore throat, earache, cough) through all of this. It came out of nowhere and I am still, over a week later, having a hard time getting rid of it. Plus I drank more alcohol- holiday party wine- during the first two weeks of the pregnancy than I have in years. Maybe none of that contributed and it would have happened anyway. We'll never know.
It was soon after this that I started to feel really good about the whole experience. Relief, clarity, and lots of gratitude. Relief that we would have more time to prepare this time. No more feeling buried AND trying to take care of a baby. No more feeling constantly overwhelmed and uncertain AND trying to take care of a baby (oh yeah, and a three year old).
Plus all the selfish reasons. I can drink wine on my birthday in February! Beer at barbecues all summer! Take some time for herb or yoga or bellydance classes! Maybe I can even go out of town by myself for a few days! Go to some parties! Not be pregnant at my ten year high school reunion in June and friends' wedding in July!
Yes, loads of relief for both Graham and I, though we had been happy about the pregnancy.
And it brought so much clarity, which is what I am grateful for, much more so than the possibility of future late night booty shaking.
The whole thing just shook us up and snapped our whole lives right into perspective. We saw all of the things that we could be doing better, all of the ways we have been slacking, and exactly what needs to be put in place if we do indeed want to welcome another child into our lives someday.
We made a big priority list, organized our days and weeks, and have been both working diligently to improve our lives, our space, and our finances ever since. And it feels so good! It was all stuff that we had talked about doing, but just never got it together enough to do. The less we did the more buried and scared we felt, and so the less we did, and on and on in an unhealthy cycle (not that we weren't constantly DOING anyway, just could have been doing better/more/smarter). But the miscarriage just broke right through that cycle and gave us the perspective and motivation we needed.
And so I am grateful. It was truly a blessing, a touch of grace from the universe, from the ancestors, perhaps from the soul of the future baby himself. In fact, I feel like it was the most divine thing that has ever happened to me. I have never been so grateful, just full of gratitude, for an experience. People keep saying "Well, it's good that you're trying to stay positive". No, I'm not trying, and positive doesn't even begin to describe it.
And he'll come back. We're going to close those back doors and be sure that we don't conceive again until we are totally ready, hopefully in about a year. Another good thing that came out of it is that Mycie is done nursing. I didn't plan for it to be this soon, but I am happy about it. It's been two weeks now and she doesn't even ask anymore. A few days after we lost the baby, which we explained to her (She said "The baby went to heaven? But someday he'll come back to Grass Valley!"), she asked me to nurse and I said no. She said "Why? The baby's gone now." So smart :-)
It feels good to have my body back, and to know that I'll have some time to give it all the love and care I can before doing it all over again.
So that's my story. I can't even imagine how hard it must be for mamas and families that are further along. And I can't even bear to think of women giving birth to a full term baby who they know has died. Anyway. My experience wasn't so bad. Was, in fact, beautiful and spiritual and an incredible learning experience. I received so so much love and support, with Graham taking care of everything so that I could rest and assimilate, getting food brought to me by two friends, and having a midwife I've never met before spend 15 minutes on the phone helping and comforting me.
The whole experience was amazingly revelatory and life changing, and I thank every being in the universe for it. And, my baby, I look forward to holding you in my womb again, birthing you, and loving you as you grow alongside your sister someday...
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