Monday, February 15, 2010

A Different Monday

I am writing this post over the weekend actually, because blogging provides an interesting diversion from my troubles. Monday I will be in the hospital to undergo a D&C, or in other words, a procedure that will remove leftover um, stuff, from a failed pregnancy, which I found out about (the failure) on Friday. I'm mentioning this here because this is a fairly huge life event for me, and well, this is my blog. Miscarriages are interesting beasts because they're a death and deserve grieving, but you don't really know how to grieve because you never met the person and indeed the person was not so much a person as it was a mass of developing cells with a heartbeat that cruelly teased you on the ultrasound machine before fading out.

I have been watching lots more television than I ever have to zone out a bit, catching up on BBC America's InBetweeners, Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares, and paying off my mortgage in Animal Crossing on Wii. I've been reading. Not so much writing, but a few surprisingly clear-headed edits here and there. Taking it easy, trying not to question why (because we'll never know) and trying especially not to philosophize. Trying to acclimate one's mind to a sudden state of non-pregnancy after 8 weeks of acclimating oneself to it. Making sure that the type of miscarriage I've had is normal (where nothing um, comes out, but it is confirmed by ultrasound; I could wait if I wanted to for things to come out but it would likely be a few weeks and that seems horrifying for lots of reasons, one of which includes certain pain).

Sunday we spent time in the garden, doing pre-spring cleanup of clover, dead leaves, and other plants that didn't make it through the winter. Clearing and leaving room for spring growth and new plantings, if we want. It was nice and appropriate.

Today I was going to talk about query letters and in fact have a post written on them, but that'll come tomorrow (and it's a good one). Once I started the first paragraph of this post, it became apparent that even I, who tries to keep things professional around here, couldn't make such an abrupt transition. If I need (and I kind of do) a tie-in to writing process for this post, then I would say that when you're writing and something powerful comes out, just run with it. Don't shelve it into another scene or situation.

14 comments:

T. Anne said...

I love kitchen nightmares. I wish Gordon didn't curse so much it's something my kids would love!

Lt. Cccyxx said...

I'm sorry, and hope everything goes smoothly today for you.

Roni @ FictionGroupie said...

I'm so sorry, Sierra. I've had two miscarriages--one before I had my son and one last year. They are so tough to go through. Take your time to grieve because it definitely is a loss. And I know what you mean about it being an odd grief, but I think it's because even though you didn't know the person yet, you feel the loss of the dream you had for that pregnancy.

If it gives you any comfort, I had my first miscarriage back in Nov. 2006, by the following February I was pregnant with my son and the pregnancy was without any complication at all.

Hope you feel better soon. Take care.

Travener said...

Sorry to hear the news. Take care, kiddo.

Amber Tidd Murphy said...

I am so sorry to read your sad news. I think it was brave to blog about it, and I hope it gave you some comfort. You are in my thoughts.

KLM said...

So sorry, Sierra. Thinking of you.

Meghan Ward said...

Sierra, I'm so sorry. If it's any consolation, I can count five friends off the top of my head who've had miscarriages and then gotten pregnant not long afterward. That doesn't make it any easier, but I do have faith that you will have another little munchkin to keep you up at night before long :) I hope all goes smoothly today. Hugs.

Melissa Marsh said...

Hugs, Sierra.

Tina Lynn said...

Sierra,
I am so sorry. I've gone through this twice. Once before my first, Sandy, and once before my son, Christian. Yes, I named them both and I make sure to take time out and think about them once in awhile. It is an odd sort of grief. Especially for me, because I have two beautiful wonderful children that wouldn't exist if Sandy or Christian went to term. Sending hugs your way. And I think you made the right decision, having the procedure done. It would be fruitless and possibly dangerous to draw it out. Not to mention potentially emotional. Email me or message me on facebook if you need a cyber shoulder to cry on.

Matt said...

I'm so sorry Sierra. You know you're not alone as these ladies have proven. I can tell you from a man's perspective, it sucks for it too. My wife miscarried a couple of months ago. Life can really be cruel sometimes. Be angry, sad, resentful - whatever you want. It's all okay.

Sierra Godfrey said...

Thank you for your support and shared stories, everyone.

The procedure went well. I was surprised by how *surgical* it all was. I had pre-op, post-op, an IV, an anesthesiologist...the whole bit. I think the experience is more interesting to me than anyone else since I haven't really only been admitted in a hospital or had any kind of surgery except for delivering my whippersnapper three years ago.

It is amazing to me how many women have gone through this, and yet we deal. Thank you everyone.

Mike Chen said...

I'm sorry about the news, Sierra. One more great thing about writing -- it helps you sort out your emotions when crappy things happen. If nothing else, I hope this post helped you do that.

Kristan said...

Oh Sierra... I'm so sorry. Ditto what Mike said. Write your heart out, you know? Or read it out. Those are my two best methods for coping.

Sierra Godfrey said...

Thanks guys. I have no doubt that this experience will appear in some sharp or form later in writing. There is a tangle of emotions that are really strange and I know I can't pick it apart just now.

I want to move on but I am admitting that you can't just do it like that.

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