bittersweet

august is a hard month.  although really, it's the entire time from july 28th until september 11th...

in 2009, we conceived our third baby over father's day weekend, which we had spent spreading my dad's ashes in his favorite trout stream.  my due date would have been on my brother's birthday, and my safe date for homebirth would have been the day before the first anniversary of my dad's sudden loss.  it seemed like this was meant to be~ a new arrival bringing joy into a time of sadness.

until that tuesday night of july 28th, when i went to bathroom and found blood.  and i *knew* it was over. my husband was out of town, as he traveled a lot then.  i was alone, devastated, afraid.  i talked to my midwife the following day, and she tried to give me some hope.  i clung to it, because even though deep down i *knew*, i wanted to be wrong so desperately. i went in for an ultrasound on thursday, and my uterus was empty.  i was empty.

the following sunday, august 2nd, i started having this horrible pain.  i had actually had something similar a few weeks prior that had felt like the worst gas pain ever... like my guts were turning inside out.  it eased a little, only to return monday morning with a vengeance.  i called my midwife, who told me that the ultrasound i'd had on thursday had not been able to rule out an ectopic.  she sent me in to get another ultrasound which confirmed that there was a gestational sac on my right ovary.  i was not actually empty, but now i had to make a choice of how to terminate...

we decided to try the methotrexate injection in lieu of surgery, so that i could keep my ovary.  in some ways i was lucky~ the shot worked.  there were three other ectopics in that practice that summer, and i think i was the only one to avoid surgery.  but, oh, the pain...  as the sac detached and was reabsorbed, it would cause bouts of internal bleeding that brought more of that ripping gut pain.  it was cyclical~ on sunday i would have the pain, then spend 3 days feeling like i'd been kicked repeatedly in the stomach, then i'd start to feel better only to repeat it all over again the following sunday.

it was the worst month of my life, and how could i share this burden of grief?  my mom was still reeling from the loss of my dad, my husband having to leave every week for work...  and was the loss even as real to them as it was to me?  i don't know, and it is too hard to ask.  so i grieved alone.  and i felt broken.  damaged.  my cycle came back on 9/11, such an appropriate date...

i had not yet decided whether i even wanted to try again when i had a dream, in january 2010, that i took a pregnancy test and it was positive.  i woke up and took one just for the hell of it...  and discovered my sweet bitty bit was on the way.  i was terrified, actually.  anxious and full of doubt.  but aside from a few minor issues that popped up and were resolved, the pregnancy went by as smoothly as it had with each of the boys.

when i went in for one of my midwife appointments at the beginning of last august, we talked about ways to honor the previous pregnancy.  one of the things she suggested was to get a wind chime and only hang it out during august.  when i returned two weeks later, she presented me with a chime, knowing that i probably wouldn't have gotten one myself.  it is one of the most touching gifts i have ever gotten...

the sound carries my sadness into the wind, and brings a little glimmer of peace into my heart.  i still grieve, and wonder what might have been, but i cannot regret the path that brought my sweet girl to me.  

i also no longer feel as broken as i did in the aftermath of that loss, and another reminder of how well my body has been able to nourish comes in the form of a huge crop of apples from my placenta trees.  

pie, anyone?