Sunday, June 6, 2010

I-35 on a Saturday

I am sitting on my toilet. The pain is increasingly more intense. I am beginning to doubt what the doctor said about "some cramping." Could there have been a mistake? Maybe the baby is not dead after all? He is rubbing my back saying quite desperately: What can I do? I don't know. Can anyone do anything? I think, for some reason, I am saying the Hail Mary. Then after what seems like days, but is only hours, it is over. I am back in bed. Left with not a soft bundle of baby, but with a nasty jagged place in my heart.

This is called a miscarriage.

This is not a nightmare. It is a distant yet distinct memory. My eyes are open and my cheeks are wet. I find I am awake. The highway is a parking lot and I am still stuck in traffic.


Shannon said...

Oh Girly, I am so sorry. And now I am crying too.

Monica said...

no worries. DISTANT memory, girl. just sneaks up on ya sometimes, y'know? funny, cuz i just read YOUR post and am belly laughing here at my computer. :o)

Jae said...

:( Been there. Funny how that memory doesn't fade, but the pain of childbirth does.