Bambino

I haven’t been around for a while, as you may or may not have noticed. I’ll pretend that you’ve all been waiting with bated breath to hear about what’s been going on, since believing that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. 🙂

Largely I’ve just been busy with work. Once upon a time my workload was such that I could easily trip off a blog post on a break, or on lunch. There hasn’t been time for that in quite a while. And, since I tend to not be on the internet at all after work hours, the blog has suffered.

Also, I guess I haven’t been inspired lately by anything that seems like it would be really interesting for you all to read (the recent bat debacle aside).

Don’t get me wrong, lots of great stuff has happened. G has even more teeth and is passing over that magical threshold of babyhood into little-man-hood. It’s wonderful.

Work, while busy, has been interesting and certainly not boring.

Lots of good.

Unfortunately, there has also been some bad. And it seems that the bad is finally pushing me to write again.

Even though I don’t really know how.

Even though I haven’t been able to talk about it to the people closest to me IRL.

I was pregnant.

I lost the baby.

It was early on, but not so early that I hadn’t fallen in love yet.

I think it’s funny how one says “I lost” the baby.

I did not “lose” the baby. I know exactly where the baby was, where the baby ended up.

Where Bambino ended up.

We called the baby Bambino. We were going to wait and be surprised at the birth by its gender, so we had to come up with a temporary name. We were already teaching G that Bambino was “in mommy’s tummy.”

It was quick when it happened. Sort of.

One Saturday I started cramping, and that night I was spotting.

The next day my body gave birth to Bambino, while I sat on the toilet, holding on to the sink next to me and sobbing like I’ve never sobbed before.

I didn’t know what to expect with a miscarriage. It doesn’t end quickly, no matter how fast the first part may go. Not unless one pushes things along with a drug or a D&C/E, neither of which I’ve wanted to go with. Right now since I don’t appear to have hemorrhaged, I have the “luxury” of letting my body take care of itself. But that means that daily I don’t know what to expect, if it’s all really over.

It’s hard to move on.

I’ll get bloodwork done tomorrow, and that will help my practitioner and I know where we stand.

***

I’ve run the entire gamut of emotions, except perhaps anger. Maybe I’ve yet to hit that part of grieving, but I’m hoping that I’ve just been able to pass it by.

First I was numb, then very very sad. Then for a day I was in denial. Complete denial, in hysterics to my practitioner on the phone, “What if the baby’s still alive in there and I don’t know? What if I do something to kill it?” One ultrasound, and a patient and compassionate sonographer later, I knew incontrovertibly that Bambino really was gone.

***

I took a week off of work. It took that long just to be able to care about it again. And even now, I’m doing it more because I know that the distraction and being productive is good for me, and good for my depression.

Also, I finished Angry Birds Space.

See, I still have a sense of humor. And it makes me feel a little guilty that I do.

But I need to laugh, more than I’ve ever needed it before.

***

And I feel wholly self-indulgent writing this. I know so many of you in the bloggy world who have been through this, through worse, some of you multiple times.

I feel whiny, and small.

I feel embarrassed, and I feel annoyed at my embarrassment.

***

And amazingly I’m eager.

In the first moments… when I’d pulled myself together long enough to get out of the bathroom, pull on some pants, and go tell M the news, I didn’t know if I could try again. If I could handle a loss again. Because it can and does happen.

But thankfully that was short-lived.

I find myself wanting to be pregnant again NOW. I don’t want to wait for my cycles to get back to normal.

I am impatience.

At least I’ve stopped forgetting that I’m not pregnant anymore, because boy did that suck.

***

So, what I’d love from you all is something funny. I’m trying to catch up on all your blog posts, but it’s going to take me a bit. Feel free to leave me a knock-knock joke in a comment, or even a naughty limerick. Better yet, a naughty haiku.

Thank you.

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9 Comments on “Bambino”

  1. Jaime Says:

    wow… I’m so sorry… *hugs*

    I’ll try my best to write something funny this week for you!

    Reply

  2. k~ Says:

    Dragonfly perches
    between hot summer air skin-
    where torn lace dangles

    As you requested… because words won’t make the pain subside. I do hope it makes you smile.

    Reply

  3. blogginglily Says:

    awwww, venus. . . self-indulgent? i think you need to forget the idea that grief is self indulgent. . . or that coping with it is. I think it’s necessary. I’m sorry about your news. I wish. . . like some of the cancer commenters wished for Leslie and I. . . that your absence was because you won the lottery and said fuckitall, or your book idea was a hit and you signed a big contract and were in Barbados on a bender celebrating. . . or something equally awesome.

    I don’t know Haiku,
    Is it a poem or what?
    I’ll stick to blogging.

    See what I did there? I’m fucking CLEVER.

    Reply

  4. Carrie - Cannibalistic Nerd Says:

    Venus, you were very brave to write about your experience. I’m so sorry for your loss.

    I’ve been sitting here trying to come up with something hilarious to tell you, and the only thing that’s popped into my head is a quote from an episode of Community I watched today: “Fire can’t go through doors, stupid. It’s not a ghost!”

    Reply

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. It shouldn’t be this hard | I'm Not Writing A Novel - January 28, 2014

    […] last time I saw him was after the miscarriage of Bambino.  By that visit, it was already a couple of months post-loss and I (amazingly and gratefully) was […]

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