Empty

As the ultrasound wand focused in on my uterus Monday afternoon, it found... nothing. Maybe a tiny part of a sac, but certainly not the tiny kidney-sized embryo that was supposed to be swimming around there at eight weeks. And that uterus was the size of a 5.5-6 week pregnancy, not 8. Confirmation of the glass-half-empty scenario we'd had 20 or so hours to steel ourselves for. Just empty, more or less.

When I started bleeding Sunday night, it was really more like spotting than anything heavy enough to feel conclusive. Being a modern woman, of course I was Googling using my smartphone, alternating between freaking out and taking solace in the stats: something like 30% of women have some spotting in the first trimester (but I hadn't had ANY with the Rookie! Shouldn't my body be consistent?!?!!?), and about half the time that is a sign of miscarriage. I am normally an optimistic person but something really didn't feel right – mostly because, for a few weeks, I'd felt so normal: no tiredness, not a hint of nauseau, lots of energy, breast tenderness gone. Of course, I realize all these things in hindsight, and at the time reminded myself that I didn't feel that different during my first trimester with Sean.

So now, I am left empty. Nothing in there. Did we make it up? No, of course, but weird to have something end that was going to change our lives so much. I feel empty – by and large, empty of the devastating emotions that I would have expected. I'm not heartbroken, just melancholy. I am saddest when I wish I had cheered those little cells on so they would just keep on growing and dividing (though I intellectually know that wouldn't have made a difference). And sad when I think of what those little cells could have done, could have contributed to the world, and the joy they would have brought to family and friends. But, they were just a bundle of cells, really, nothing like the silly, active, sweet 40 pound kid that also got his start in there. Really, a few cells is not that different than the decades of “well, we could have theoretically produced a baby” menstrual cycles that didn't add to family. Mourning this loss is so different than once you've really felt a baby move or, kicking or bouncing around inside you, keeping you company as I remember feeling the Rookie did as I was in work meetings or taking long walks.

Physically, I am glad this isn't harder. The serious bleeding didn't kick in until Tuesday and I suspect it is not much different than the heavy periods some of my friends experience. The back and hip-joint cramps I experienced Tuesday-Wednesday (which are already gone, more or less) were a weird comfort, something unusual and a sign that this was a bit different from a normal menstrual cycle. It's felt good to “wring” myself out (full twisting yoga poses, indulging in a massage using a coupon I'd bought months ago), like I am a towel. Even in the midst of this blog post (I wrote most of it at home this morning before Chris and Sean woke up, which is when I have my "me" time to exercise, read, get urgent work done, or very occasionally blog; I am editing and publishing during my lunch break at work), my body became more empty -- I passed what seemed like the smallish sac that could have been my second child.

Of course, I am then filling myself back up again, indulging in full-strength strong coffee, 2 glasses of wine Monday and Wednesday night, 2 margaritas sitting on a patio all by myself before a parent workshop on Tuesday, and a big bowl of ice cream with warmed up peanut butter last night. I described it to my Mom as a “bender”, indulging in all the things I couldn't have, like a weird reward system – or really a consolation system.

So, how am I doing? Really good, mostly. I think taking care of myself, taking downtime (took off a good chunk of Tuesday, spent Wednesday afternoon with Sean) made sure I've had space to process and grieve rather than just being preoccupied while at my desk at work or trying to get dinner together. I wonder if I am “supposed” to be sadder, but then I remember one of the many lessons from grieving over the loss of my Dad 14 years ago: however I am feeling in the grieving process is fine – whether that was feeling momentarily happy or silly after this horrible thing had happened just weeks/months ago, or feeling deeply sad or totally outraged even though it was years ago. So, how I am feeling is just how I am feeling, no right or wrong.

Speaking of my Dad, this was crappy timing. Not for me so much but for my Mom, since today is their 44^th wedding anniversary and the 14^th anniversary of the day he died, and I know how tough this month and week is for her. Can't help but wish my body had started responding sooner after those cells stopped dividing, kickstarting this process with more time for my Mom to deal with the news before today. I love you Mom and sorry I made at least this April tougher for you.

And, who knows what is next. Partially, I was surprised that we'd gotten pregnant, since the tiny part of me that still believes in some sort of higher being had “bargained” for my friend Annie and Jonathan, making it clear I was game to give up having another child when they lost Evelyn as long as they could have a healthy baby. Now they are about to give birth to a second child, Gretchen's younger sister. Yes, I know most of you (and me, most of the time) do not believe in a God that operates like that, but I was so sad for them that anything I could do I would, including this probably-not-the-way-things-work swap. And, if that actually is the way things work, I'd repeat that trade in a heartbeat. But, since we don't know if that is the system we're operating in, we'll try again and may or may not add another child to our family.

So, there it is: some rambling thoughts, probably not very helpful or interesting but somewhat therapeutic to write for me. There is a chance a friend or relative actually reads our infrequent blogposts and didn't know we'd been pregnant, or a co-worker stumbles upon this and now understands why I uncharacteristically took a Tuesday morning off and flaked on a few things without guilt. I figured I'd blog about it since I've found the experiences of others that have gone through this helpful and perhaps this wandering reflection somehow is to you or one of your friends. If you have read this and didn't know already, please let me know and know I am more than willing to talk it through, answer questions, etc.