i wish
the littlest love
I lost a baby last year, after a long time trying to conceive. It died inside me early without my knowing about it, so I carried the tiny corpse in my womb a few days, and was its grave. We had chosen our names, for a boy, for a girl. Every child is a girl at this stage. The doctor made his seven-week scan. I strained over his head, trying to see on the dark screen the tiny bean-shaped body for the first time. There was no heartbeat, only my own. The doctor pulled out his dildo-shaped scanner and wiped the condom off it with one movement. The condom he flung over his shoulder into the trash. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be taking home a baby this time,” he said.
Later in his office, when I was dressed, he said airily, “Oh yes – one in two pregnancies ends in miscarriage. Didn’t you know?” I didn’t know. It occurs to me now this is just another way we brush aside the sorrows which affect women. We don’t talk about the griefs women carry. Miscarry. Give stillbirth to. Find dead in the cot. Incest, rape, infertility, assault.
We were so excited going in for the scan. The first glimpse of the most important person in our adult lives; her first communication with us, through the tiny pounding of her heart. I had been watching the daily progress of this infinite darling in the form of diagrams showing the little heart finding its way, the spine beginning to form. These drawings seemed to me the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen on paper. On the screen I could not see anything, however tiny; I looked and looked. My partner held my hand. A sickened feeling of confusion very faintly took hold. The gynaecologist put out both his hands to pull me upright, as though I were an invalid. In such ways do insensitive people convey their empathy. This doctor liked to tell salacious jokes during intimate examination: we were already looking for another doctor, a better doctor, a woman. Earlier he had said, as he reefed the condom over his scanner, “I’m a mountain man. I like mountain women.” I had only just worked out, with a dull, sick feeling, that this was a pun, when he thrust the machine inside me and the scan started and the quiet unmoving bad news came in to rest. It has thus rested ever since. We are still not parents and our child is still unborn. I had not known before this how many of my friends had also suffered miscarriage and the loss of a child. How many still grieved. I had even felt intolerant, judgmental of the seeming sentimentality of these remembrances when they did appear, the candles, the flowers, the bears. Now I found myself applying this same non-compassion to my own grief. This piercing loneliness seared me from the first: after all I am hollow, I am alone in here. Oh how can you mourn something so early, barely a child. With its whole life ahead of it, just growing spine. Meanwhile the little cardboard box with its clot of bloodied fragments that I knelt over on the floor of the shower and howled, that I scooped up and wrapped in tissue paper then could not bring myself to bury, all alone in the cold dark ground, sits on my desk untouched, more than a year later. I have not been ready to let go.
68 comments on “the littlest love”
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Can’t imagine, of course, but sorry to hear.
Thanks Bro. I feel like we should talk about this stuff more. Today is an international day of remembrance & that encouraged me to speak.
♡
Thanks V x
I’m so sorry. I’m also sorry about the lack of sympathy of the doctor. If your only child had just been run over by a car, would he have said, “Don’t you know the statistics?” ????????????
I looked it up: percentage of miscarriages is 10-20 percent… Though maybe the percentage is higher in older women.
I find the cavalier attitude of male doctors to women still so disheartening. Friends of mine have been told: Let’s take your uterus out; you don’t need it anymore. A thirty year old friend of mine was told that she ought to get pregnant to be cured of endometriosis, etc. etc.
It’s true, Cynthia, thank you x. Statistics are not comforting when an individual person faces grief. But I also wondered: if this is true, if one in two pregnancies miscarries – why the hell aren’t we talking about it?
Cathoel, my heart goes out to you. Losing a baby is so hard. And when your baby is still forming there is so much ambiguity in the wider culture about your right to grieve and speak and share. I lost seven babies, six first and one second trimester. Sharing helped. You are part of a community of women across the world and through time who empathize experientially. Thank you for sharing. Love, Lin xx
Dear Lin, how generous you are. I’m profoundly moved by your harrowing experience. Such a loss. Such a grief.It’s untellable. I’m so sorry for the waste of all that love you wanted to give and all the growing life in your body. Thank you for this generously open response and I am so sorry. Love, Cathoel xx
Aww mate, having been there with the mother of my boys, it is such a hollow place to exist in. So much love to you.xxx
I’m so happy to hear you have your boys now and it worked out for the two of you Gaz. Bet you’re a lovely dad. XX
A little lighter but as heart felt take on International Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=goeZBM_oBJM
Hah, thanks Sandra. Isn’t she spot on! about the fuss we make, relatively, over men’s health issues vs the funds we cut from predominantly women-afflicting crises like partner violence. Very good point.
Hugs to you xx
Thank you, Toni xx
I’m so sorry Cathoel. Compassion does not come naturally to some people.. xx
Thank you, Rebekah. Resoundingly it comes naturally to you, my lovely cuz xx
Sad news. I have been there too. It will always be sad. But it will get better.
I’m sorry to hear that you know it, Jane. Thanks for your encouraging wishes.
So sorry to hear Cathoel.
Thanks very much, Timothy.
I’m so sorry to read this Cathoel. I hope you can bury that little cardboard box, if that is what you want.
Thank you, Jameela. Actually, writing the story at last makes me feel more at peace, and more ready. Merci x
xo
thanks bella x
So very sorry for your loss, Cathoel. Thank you for sharing your beautiful tribute.
I’m so so sorry Cathoel ❤️
Xxx
So sorry. :(
♡
❤️ I am coincidentally writing a character atm who, like my Aunt, lost many pregnancies. A simple operation would today fix the problem which left her childless. Xx
Beautifully written. XO
Oh I’m so sorry C, I didn’t know. What a big couple of years you’ve had.
Sorry Cathoel. :( Thanks for sharing and raising the issue of troubles with conceiving. So many women struggle, and so few talk about it.
Words…….fail me xx……..so sorry……..
Been through it twice with my wife, there really are no words.. Love and hugs your way!
I’ve carried tiny bodies without life myself – three early like you, and two near middle pregnancy. And your searing loss is always the same. Two I buried, as I was so far along. There is never ever a good time to lose a child – but you were a mother for that seven weeks, and did your best for that small spark while it was there. You put into words so beautifully how it feels. Thank you. I still cry for them all at times. No matter if you have others – you still wanted those others too. Love you dear dear friend, my sister in loss that I would have no one else understand so well…
I’m crying, I feel for you and all mothers of babes that just didn’t make it…………
You’ve been through so much ♡
((((Cathoel))))
Oh heartbreaking… what tender love. Hugs. Xx
❤️❤️❤️
Sending you love xx
Damn be well. The path to power is often through pain and peace.
Oh, honey, I had no idea!
How awful for you Cathoel Jorss. I have had 6 pregnancies for 2 children. Each loss I grieved, even the first which was a voluntary termination. The live births were the only true remedy for me. I couldn’t bear to try for another as I might not be so lucky again. My heart goes out to you. I know others in your position who have diverted their energies elsewhere and seem to be coping well. Whatever you do, though, find a different doctor! What a monster!
What a callous doctor! Poignant piece, beautifully written. Thanks for sharing xx
Doctors do need training in how to talk to human beings, but I don’t suppose he intended to sound callous. He may have been at a loss for good words, as folk often are in that situation, or it may be that doctors get hardened to such things as a means of self-protection.
Sorry to hear this dear Cathoel. Loving hugs you you ❤️
((HUGS))
Huge hugs Cathoel Jorss. Huge hugs
A lovely tribute Cathoel
You have had a tough year. My heart goes out to you.
Speechless.
Love to you….x
So much love to you. X
A tough year indeed. Big hugs shnooks. xx <3 <3 <3
:(
thanks for sharing, Cathoel <3
Oh Cathoel… I didn’t realise… I’m so so sorry to learn of this now, and can only imagine the pain and profound sadness possible… Big love and gratitude for your generous sharing with us all… to let us in just that little bit closer. .. Thank you Dear Woman x ♡
Sorry for your loss Cathoel
Sorry for your troubles, my friend. It is a hard row we hoe. It was brave and beautiful of you to share.
Cathoel, I wish my arms were long enough to hug you from here.
Cathoel, like so many of your readers, I share your pain. If only that could lessen it.
I missed this post till now during this mournful time of your Fathers passing. So sad for you my dear, the last year has really been a time of sorrow for you, yet as always you take the raw meat of experience, not only the tasty bits, the rich flesh of Joy but also all the ugly bits of Pain and gristle and bone and tear ducts and you turn it all into Great Art. The Quack sounds terrible. I mean, you have to distance yourself a bit professionally in jobs like that, so you’re not overwhelmed by all the stressful emotions you have to deal with, otherwise you’d burn out, but that guy just sounded like an arsehole. I hope better days are coming for you, and from you more great writing.
Dear Reverend, Thank you for these kind and thoughtful words. It’s generous of you. It’s warming. The pile-up of grievous events has been so challenging to me, it feels destroying. I long for the sunny uplands. I long for a peaceful household and loving family life. Will keep working to that end and trying to spot the quacks sooner and sooner so as not to step on them by accident. I am so grateful for your beautiful remarks on the work I am making. Merci bien x
I saw you five times.
You were a little bean at 6 weeks. But with healthy heart; “everything is perfect” they said.
You were a little baby by 8 weeks: arms, legs everything in place;
I exhaled my relief at seeing you were still there happily wriggling away.
“Everything is perfect” they said.
At 12 weeks your father and I learned you were a boy… we looked at you in spellbound awe. There you were a real baby now. I tried to steady my thoughts… breathe… he’s perfect. “Everything is perfect.” They said.
At 19 weeks I saw you again, the last time I would look at your grainy image on a screen. Your feet were hanging out of my womb. But the liquor looked good… “he’s perfect” the lady said. For an hour we watched as every inch of your anatomy was measured and examined. “He has lenses in his eyes!” She said. “Everything is perfect” she said. His father and I couldn’t even look. Silent tears flowed.
At 20 weeks I gave birth to you paddy. I got to see you and touch you and hold you. You were perfect! Your dad gently cradled you and loved you. I could barely look but I love you too.
On December 8th you were due to be born into the life that we have all been denied. I’ll see you for the last time. You are dust now…. Dad and I will be there with you paddy. We’ll set you free like you should be.
All the love. All the choked up love that’s finally expressed. Making us swollen and heavy like milk. I’m very sorry for your loss, Alison. It is obvious you’d have made a very loving, caring Mum and I hope you will still get that chance, to bring a child into the world – from your womb, or from your home. Either way, it’s love.