Thu 15 Nov 2007
inconclusive she said, but
her eyes spoke sorrow
two sacs, too small, one
just a dot; one a silent
the dates are certain
ides of November, mocking.
et tu, little wish?
we wait now for blood tests, and a followup ultrasound. but i saw that screen, and i know that better news is unlikely.
it feels a little cruel that i am still tender and swollen. it feels a little cruel that this is the first pregnancy i’ve had no early bleeding in. it feels a little cruel that there is still a tiny shred of hope that i can only sit with, neither nurturing it nor crushing it completely…just waiting.
a part of me wishes we’d told nobody, and i could hide myself away under blankets to lick my wounds, my bitter disappointment, my sadness, my impatience to just have things hurry up already…but then, we waited to tell, with Finn, and the guarantees of safety failed. waited with Oscar, so sure i was that the sky would fall at any moment. with my history, “safe” means seven months pregnant. i console myself, had i gotten that far along, somebody would have guessed.
and i wonder, if this is really happening, when my body is likely to catch on?