Previously it was March into the Sea and now this is the song running through my head.
This may never be read but let’s get it all down while it’s fresh.
Long story short, my wife miscarried, losing a lot of blood over a protracted time. We spent a great deal of time in hospital in that temporal contradiction of everything happening so fast but at the same time taking so fucking long as the plan changes over and over.
The promise of surgery contradicted mere minutes after being made. 10 minutes becomes an hour becomes three becomes overnight. First thing in the morning becomes 10 and so on and so on.
We’ve been down this road before but we haven’t. This one is new but thanks to the years treading the path and seeing the maps from others we know how this maps out. We hear the same patter, the same empty words as we find our red alert status slips to when we can fit you in amongst the live births. You won’t leave without surgery until we decide after walking away that you won’t have surgery. We won’t tell you this until you chase after us to get a real answer.
When the sonographer referred to what was left as products we said nothing. When she said ‘there’s no sign of pregnancy’ and nothing else we said nothing. We numbly went back to the bed to wait and wait.
This happens all the time, we see it a lot. No-one seemed to get that knowing this is true doesn’t make it any less shitty,
What’s worse is at the time, even after all we know, the maps we have of this terrain we were so grateful for having someone speak to us that we (I) didn’t push on these inconsistencies. We were like the fellow travellers, tired, weakened, confused and compliant.
It is only now we are back at home ‘to let nature take it’s course’ like nature is some sort of benevolent all knowing force rather than a glorified random number generator with a better PR campaign that the full weight of all that has happened in these last weeks, days and hours hits all at once. We hit every story beat we knew we would. With all the work in awareness raising, have I been wasting my time? I knew all that I needed to but in the face of sheer terror and so much blood it all fell away and I didn’t push when I needed to. Even now, even with our history. In the guilt is the post-event rationalisation. Was it merely tiredness? Was it picking the battles that needed to be fought at the time? Was the level of compassion we hoped for unrealistic? Were we really that much of a fucking inconvenience?
It’s different. In the lead up to these events there were uncanny parallels with what happened with the boys in the early stages but in this loss the differences are clear and stark. In the aftermath of confirmation we have nothing to make memories with, it’s not even clear if there was a baby there or not. We have no way of knowing. We have nothing, the batteries died on the pregnancy test and the first scan is an amorphous blob.
There’s work to be done but at the moment we are too sick to do it and need the time to be well but we will get there. We have to.