Wednesday I started reading Little Earthquakes by Jennifer Weiner. I took it with me to my GYN appointment. The nurse noticed my book and said it was really good, or at least based on her reading two other Weiner novels, the book must be good. It is entertaining, as chick lit is meant to be, but everyone in this story is pregnant, except one poor lady, but I haven't gotten to the details yet. So, back to my GYN appointment, my extremely perky doctor, who I usually love, decided to fill in all the blanks on my medical history. Great. She briskly reviewed everything, I nodded and smiled. There are a few things there that I don't think about very often because the experiences were painful, literally and figuratively.
I have had two miscarriages. I lost my very first pregnancy on Easter day at my in-laws house. I lost my fourth pregnancy on Dec 22nd, during a Christmas season when I had just been pushing myself to do too much. The doctor glossed over these miscarriages, and showed me the computer screen , on which I noticed the miscarriages were classified as "spontaneous abortions". How horrible. I was stunned. One minute I am just trying to get through this appointment, the next minute I am reliving the trauma of the D&C. That doctor was either incredibly insensitive, or has never experienced a loss of pregnancy. Miscarriage is not something to be brought up, confirmed, and shuffled away. Not to the woman who experienced it, at least. I was suddenly plunged back into those memories and at a moment I least expected it.
I don't think a woman can ever forget a miscarriage. I wonder about those little lives, those heartbeats that slowly stopped fluttering inside of me. No extensive research was done on my body to find out why. Of course, I have a theory blaming my hormone levels since I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism after the birth of my first baby. With every successive pregnancy, I held my breath, wondering if this one would make it. There were always close calls, always a rush to L&D to reaffirm the little heartbeat was still there. And now, at the end of my child-bearing road, I have three beautiful, healthy children that I love so much it hurts. God is good.
So, reading this book tonight, about these pregnant women, must have triggered some deep feelings from my doctor's visit. I went into the kitchen to refresh my coffee just now, and my husband heard me sigh and asked if I had finished my book. No, I told him, it's full of pregnant women. Then I found myself in the kitchen blinking back tears as I grabbed the milk from the fridge. I do not want to have any more babies. I wonder about the ones that were taken away so quickly. There is a lingering sadness, that dwells on some level of my mind and spirit, connected to these two little babies. I'm not sure I can finish this book.