Yesterday

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Yesterday, seventeen years ago, I lost a baby. 20 weeks (of a prospective 40 weeks) of pregnancy is the cutoff between “miscarriage” and “stillbirth.” I lost Angel at 21 or 22 weeks. (“Angel” was the name for her that flew into my mind as the anesthesiologist was giving me the epidural to ease the pains of the birth-process. I didn’t know if it was a boy or girl then, but I knew its name was Angel.)

Enough time to have bought a pile of maternity outfits (really cute ones, too). And to have had to wear them.

I don’t know why I lost her, but the labor pains started way too early, and none of the drugs they used on me stopped the contractions. Not in any dosage that wouldn’t harm us. The beepy little machine by my bed in the hospital’s labor ward said my (our) heart-rate(s) was (were) 144. (I reach that regularly now on the exercise bikes at Gold’s Gym.) (I always note that fact when it happens.)

“They” (the anonymous “they” that are always watching and supervising and criticizing my life) did a chromosome study of her after the birth (a strangely normal process, the birth was). It was normal. She’d have been a perfectly normal little girl if she hadn’t fallen out and died. I had agreed to an autopsy, to figure out why it happened. But, looking at her body, they didn’t feel the need to do an autopsy. She was normal in configuration. Just over a pound. She just fell out, and that was it. One of those strange medical occurrences.

Don’t you fucking dare email me or comment about how it was “Nature’s Way” of weeding out the incompetent and/or unfit. I shall publish your IP address if you do.

I miss her and I never knew her. And I’m not half as numb as I’d like to be right now.

5 thoughts on “Yesterday”

  1. Patti, my heart goes out to you. I’ve also kinda gone gone through that. You are right, it just sucks.

  2. I feel like I’m saying things like this to you all too often, but I’m really sorry you lost Angel. There’s nothing in my experience that can help me understand your pain. My faith tells me that she’s not truly lost to you; I don’t know if yours works that way or not, but I hope that you’ll find peace, not to displace the grief — that’s too important — but to make it bearable and perhaps understandable.

  3. I’ve had family and friends who have gone thru it, premature labor, it just happens. The memory hurts. Still hard, you miss her, a whole lifetime lost. My faith too tells me she is not lost to you. I hope you are able to find some comfort.

  5. Patti,

    17 years already. Time seems to pass slowly and yet all too fast. I think Shirl is right, it’s better not to be numb.

    It’s a terrible loss, and my thoughts are with you.

    HUG

    Ruben

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