O Fortuna

[fbhjr]

It was five years ago today that my wife and I lost our unborn child and I
almost lost my wife.

The stomach pains had started for her two days before. I had feared then
what it turned out to be. But, I had hoped it was only her appendix.
After all, as far as we knew, she wasn’t pregnant.

I still remember the intern in the emergency room saying “the pregnancy
test has come back positive, but I guess I shouldn’t congratulate you until
we know what’s going on.”

I remember when the ultrasound tech said he couldn’t find anything in her
uterus except a lot of fluid. My wife thought that meant that it was OK
and she could go home. I had to explain to her that she was bleeding
internally and the fetus wasn’t where it should be.

I remember my wife’s pain being so bad that she passed out as she sat on
the bed and collapsed, twitching and almost rolling off of it. I’ve been
in car accidents. I’ve been on planes making emergency landings. I’ve had
prison convicts pull knives on me. I’ve never panicked like I did then.
But, what I remember most is how alone I felt, even surrounded by nurses
and doctors.
I wasn’t allowed to use my phone in the hospital. So, to call anyone I had
to go stand out in the cold. I didn’t want to be away from my wife for
long, so I was as quick as I could be. I called our assistant manager of
Phoenix and told her we’d miss practice the next day. I called my mother
in law who said she’d come to join me. No one else I tried to call
answered the phone. It was Valentines Day weekend after all. People were
busy.
Finally the nurse took pity on me and let me use the ER phone. I tried to
call people from the church to let them know my wife wouldn’t do the
visuals the next day. I went through every phone number I had for church
members. None answered.

My mother in law did show up. She brought pig heart with her. Comforted
is not a word I’d use to describe having them there with me. Pig heart
went wandering in the hospital and got lost. He was eventually “returned”
to us as we were “asked” to keep him from wandering around again.

A lot of people have told me they don’t think Anakin turning to the dark
side in Revenge of the Sith is believable. That it happened to fast. That
he betrayed everything too quickly.
I know they’re wrong.
That night if someone had handed me a lightsaber and told me they could
save my wife and child if I destroyed everything and everyone I knew, there
would be a lot of dead people out there.
But, I guess for the good, no offers were made.

They didn’t start the operation until almost 10 at night. It went on for a
few hours.
Her mother and piggy were the only people in the waiting room. Her mother
kept going on about how she knew and didn’t trust the doctor doing the
operation. Not having had anything to eat since lunch, I went to look for
some food.
At midnight, even in the hospital, there wasn’t much of a choice. A Dunkin
Donuts on the bottom floor was all that was open.
The radio the kid there had on was playing the dance version of “O Fortuna”.
That I took comfort in.
That as bad as it seemed, the wheel would turn, and things would get better
again. No matter how dark it seemed, light was coming. I only had to wait
out the dark and it would come.
(The corollary that the dark would come back did not escape me either.)

And, my wife did live. Things got better. But, I think this event was the
genesis of a lot of our current problems. I think she wrongly blamed
herself for it. And/or wrongly thought I blamed her. I think it made her
think she had failed me, or that I thought she had. A lot of what she says
I do and have done wrong revolve around “judgment” of her and her feelings
that she doesn’t think I think she measures up.

It isn’t true. I’ve read up on ectopic pregnancies. There isn’t any way
to prevent them. There isn’t any known cause. And, as I said, we hadn’t
even know she was pregnant. So, there would have been no way of knowing to
do anything even if there was anything to do.

I’ve never thought she didn’t measure up. If anything, her insistence on
performing at GCRF only a couple of weeks later stunned me in her
achievement. Her stitches weren’t even out, she was still on pain killers,
but she was sword fighting in front of the audience.
But, it doesn’t mean she didn’t feel that way.
The dark came back.
The light will too.
It is hard to remember that.
But, nothing lasts forever. Even the dark.

Comments

[saeble.livejournal.com]

ectopic pregnancy is way up there on the 'sucks fucking hard' scale.

sorry to hear it, even if it is after much time has passed.

my best to you both.

[tamargrl.livejournal.com]

I instantly hit reply as soon as I had read your post, but now find myself at a loss for words. I feel sympathy, sadness, a teeny bubble of hope and perhaps some other feelings. Much love to the both of you!

[morgan-lafaye.livejournal.com]

I remember that day and that call. Please remember your not alone,not then not now. There are people who care a great deal for you both, and love ya.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Thank you for sharing your experience with me. It helps, a little.

[fbhjr.livejournal.com]

It is now 9 years past for me and I pretend I'm over it.
But as you said in your post, this too shall pass.

The dark does fade and the light comes back.
But, I won't lie. It can be a long wait for that light.
Don't give up.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Apropos of absolutely nothing, you share names with a lovely older man who's my absolutely favorite ex-lover's dad. It's just a nice coincidence, but I thought you might like to know that seeing your name in my in-box makes me smile.

[fbhjr.livejournal.com]

I'll never turn down making someone smile...


Which of my names?

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Both, actually! He's a Yorkshireman. My sweetie Stephen is still a dear friend.