We went to hear the heartbeat on Tuesday. My midwife, Ginny, was cheerful and pleasant and excited. She used a handheld doppler and told me not to worry if we didn’t hear anything right away, that it can take a few minutes to find it.
After what felt like forever, she did a pelvic exam to locate my uterus and tried again. She said that I have a deep uterus and it could just be that the baby was hiding in the back. Then, when she couldn’t find it, she sent me down for an ultrasound with a sheet of paper that said “No fetal heart rythm, verification by ultrasound.”
So I get to Ultrasound. I work in this hospital so I know everyone. The lady was very nice. She started the ultrasound, located my uterus and the gestational sac. I saw a very small object inside of it. Too small. She said that it may be too early yet, so they wanted to do a transvaginal to be sure. I knew then.
She began the transvaginal. Silence for what felt like years. Tim was holding my hand, just staring at the screen. Still silence. I kept hearing the mouse on her keyboard clicking away as she was taking pictures. Silence. The she turned the monitor towards me.
“This is your uterus. Here is the gestational sac. Unfortunately, you should be measuring 10 weeks and this is the embryo. I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat.”
A few tears fell down my cheeks. She told me to be strong, that almost every woman has to go through this. Then she called someone in to verify the screen as I’m lying there, my ass up on a pillow and a wand shoved up my cooch. Still crying. The woman just nodded and walked out. And then the ultrasound tech said she was going to call my midwife and she’d be back. And she left.
And I laid there. Staring at the ceiling. The tears stopped. Tim was crying, squeezing my hand. I felt nothing. I got dressed and waited. The tech came back and asked if we wanted to go home or if we wanted to go back up to the OB and talk to Ginny. I told her that we needed to figure out what our options were, and we needed to go talk to Ginny. So we headed back upstairs.
We waited in a cold room with the door closed for a while. Tim and I didn’t say much. He asked me if I would talk to him. I told him I couldn’t yet. Ginny walked in.
She didn’t say anything. She looked at me with the most sincere eyes I have ever seen in my life. They looked right through me, past the facade and the fake strength and the wall of hurt and pulled a chair right in front of me. I forced a chuckle and said, “If at first you don’t succeed, right?” She touched my leg and said, “That’s not going to help right now. Right now you need to deal with this.” And I cried. And I cried and cried and she just sat there and let me cry. She told me I didn’t have to make a decision right then, but I knew what I wanted to do.
I told her to send me home with the pills. I would take them the following morning and miscarry my baby at home. I was taking the week off of work. I would be okay. She sent me home with 4 prescriptions.
I told work, they didn’t argue. I’m going back Monday.
On the way home I picked up a pack of cigarettes and a 12 pack of beer. I’m not going back to smoking regularly, but for this week, I just don’t give a fuck. I’ve only had 3 smokes and 2 beers since Tuesday. I’m not worried.
We went to my Dad’s house immediately after and I cried harder than I ever have in my entire life. He held me up when my knees gave out and every time I tried to compose myself he just pulled me in tighter and tighter. He told me that I needed to feel this. I needed to let myself be sad. And I was safe and it was okay. And I cried and cried and cried.
When we got home later on, around 2, I went right to sleep. I slept from 2-7. Out cold. I needed it badly. When I woke up, Tim and I ordered pizza. We watched The Croods. Then we laughed and laughed. And when it was over, we held each other and we cried. And then we went to sleep.
Yesterday, I woke up around 10. I walked outside and gathered acorns for our full moon ritual on Sunday. I felt the warm sun and cool breeze and breathed deeply. Then I went inside and grabbed the bottle of pills. “Insert 4 pills vaginally in the AM. If no result, repeat dose in 24 hours.”
That was it. 4 pills.
I put them in at 11 and I waited. Within the hour I started to cramp and was plagued with diarrhea for 2 hours. Around 4pm I started to bleed, and by 4:30 I felt it. I felt my baby leave my body and I flushed her away. I hated myself.
But I was also so relieved. Because the hardest part of all of this was knowing that the life that had once been growing inside of me was laying dormant. Dead. And I would never feel her move.
I bled heavily for the rest of the night, alternating between Oxycodone and Ibuprofen for pain. I went to sleep around midnight. And I dreamt.
The name “Lin” came to me in my dreams and the entire time I was floating in the ocean, almost bobbing. When I woke up, I grabbed my phone. This is what I found.
According to legend, Lin Moniang was born on March 23, 960 (during the Song Dynasty) as the seventh daughter of Lin Yuan (林愿) on Meizhou Island, Fujian. She did not cry when she was born, thus she was given the name with the meaning “Silent Girl.”
There are at least two versions of Lin Moniang’s death. In one version, she died in 987 at the age of 28, when she climbed a mountain alone and flew to heaven and became a goddess.
Mazu (traditional Chinese: 媽祖; simplified Chinese: 妈祖), also spelt Matsu and Ma-tsu, is the Chinese goddess of the sea who is said to protect fishermen and sailors.
I believe that Lin is the Goddess that is watching over my baby. She was due in March, and when we did the rite for Marina and the loss of Alex, we sent a bottle out to sea. At that point, my little Witchling had already stopped growing. It was an offering from the both of us.
I gave my baby to the sea, and I will see her again someday.
I will miss you, Little One.
Loading comments...