The medical office I sat in was grey and cold. You'd wonder why on earth these rooms were cold considering women had to get undressed and expose their plump bellies. I guess since they had their second little furnaces inside these cold rooms weren't so cold.
I was hypervigalent on the other hand. The grey of the walls, smell of goop warming in it's bottle, and the hum of the screen and modem reverberated in my ears. I wasn't here to get pictures. I wasn't even sure they would show me what was on the screen. All I knew was that there was a chance, an infestesimally small chance that somehow me and my man's creation would continue to expand.
Auntie had driven me and was in the waiting room. They only let family in the last 10 minutes of the "show." I sat half naked with a sheet around my waist. I knew the drill I had done it twice before. A young perky technichan came in and smiled at me. I feebly smiled in appreciation of her trying to be positive even though anger and grief were waiting, keeping me in their scopes.
We went through the movements of a typical sonogram. Lots of pictures. And after all the photos were taken she said,"I'm gonna grab your Aunt and the radiologist just so we can give you some results today." A brief flutter of hope lifted this grey perspective. Maybe the sun would shine today. Auntie came in smiling but not one of excitement one of waiting. She sat and I stood to get dressed. She said nothing. She grabed my hand and rubbed her thumb against the back of mine.
After what felt like an eternity footsteps and shadows came to the door and in came the radiologist. She was moving quickly and was loud with her entrance. I pushed it out of my head. She was here to give me news. The young perky tech started resetting the room for the next Mother.
"Ya, sweety. I have to give you some hard news. Your pregnancy is not viable. I'm so sorry. It's sad ya but these things happen. I already called your doctor and she knows so check in with her and she can instruct you from there." She recited as if she'd said it enough times the comfort of her recitation erased the emotional Mother she was facing.
I stood stunned. My knees felt like they would give and somewhere within the shadow of my soul I could hear unbearable screaming. A screaming of a Mother that just found out her childs heart had stopped beating.
"I know it's sad and no fun. I'm sorry I couldn't give you better news." She finished.
I don't really remember leaving the room after that. I just remembered Auntie holding me once we got outside, then making our way home in silence.
I saw the doctor the next day and told her I wanted to wait it out and hopefully birth without the need for drugs or a "uterine scrape" as I call it.
That night Auntie came and sat in her favorite chair next to the couch where I laid bawled up in a fetal postion clutching the onsie I had bought when my man and I found out we were pregnant. He wasn't here. He was out running errands for his family. Auntie Cass gave him an ear full but I saw the move for what it was. The beginning of the end of our relationship.
Auntie sat and rubbed my back letting me know she was there. I gasped for air between sobs. Auntie dimmed the light next to her. She hummed a tune and within a couple minutes I felt the grief give me a break. I was grateful to still be carrying him. I decided right there and then to give him a sex and name him. His name was Jeremy. I imagined his soft hair on my cheek as I held him close. The soft doughy like texture of his body weighing into me for bonding and unconditional love. I imagined him breathing, grunting little newborn grunts, and all the crazy faces they make after being born. I imagined what he would have smelled like after being born, they smell like lillies when they first emerge in all their glorious goopiness. I imagined the still moments after they're first born, the staring into eachothers eyes, the realization that both birther and birthee survived. I hung onto that created moment inside me. Until another wave came and the imprint of him on me faded.
I woke the next morning and thought about this loss of life. Auntie had gone to the store that morning and bought me a little box. "It's for burying what we can."
"Auntie, what do they call this time?" I asked her.
She paused drinking her black coffee, "You mean this being pregnant and not being pregnant?" I nodded. Well, the western white coats call it a miscarriage. Never liked that term though. You didn't miss and you're still carrying. You're body holds onto him until it's ready to let him go," she took another sip of her coffee.
"I feel like a walking temporary tomb," I said softly.
She reached over and pulled me into another hug, "Like a womb tomb?" I chuckled a bit feeling hot fresh tears. "This is the time to hold him, love him physically with the womb embracing his form. You were there when he was created and you were there to hold him as he passed." She went silent listening to the dogs outside bark rampantly, then got up quickly to see what the racket was.
Auntie was right, and in the days that had passed before his birth, I took my time to sing, dance, craddle and cry. I did this until, in my repition, I knew he wasn't coming back. That he was gone. I knew in that brief moment of realization, that I had to let him go. And within hours of my conviction the birthing process began.
This story is dedicated to my son Kailynn. Rest well my son. I love you.
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