The Extraordinary Pain of an Ordinary Miscarriage

I carried two hearts inside of me, but only one was beating.

Image for post
Image for post
From Konstantinos Koukopoulos on Flickr

Babies will take whatever they need from you, give you early osteoporosis if you don’t consume enough calcium; they’ll suck it straight from your bones, so they can live.

But just as quickly I thought, I don’t think this one will keep, but I shook the thought away.

I lied to myself so much and so often I believed it.

I turned to my husband as he continued to look at the screen as I continued to not look at the screen.

And she left and she and I never spoke again about her neverborn grandchild.

I slipped into the hot hot bath, and I cupped the hollowness, the winged thing inside of me that would never move or breathe or know life outside the lightless cave of my own body, and I sobbed until the water was cold.

I couldn’t stand the waiting because I couldn’t stand being a carrier of the dead, to have two hearts inside of me and only one be beating.

My baby is dead, I told myself, and I believed. I will be okay, I told myself, and I didn’t believe.

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