Thursday, December 11, 2008

Miscarriage black humor of the day

You know, “bitter” doesn’t really begin to cover how I’m feeling right now. I can accept that I was one of the unlucky women in their late 30s with unexplained infertility. Ok, I get that. I waited too long. Silly me.
And that first IVF, I mean, yeah, a miscarriage always sucks shit, but a miscarriage after seeing a heartbeat, a missed miscarriage that wouldn’t complete on top of all that? Ok, those are really tough breaks, kid, but hey, what are the odds of anything weird happening after that, eh?
At least I know my fabulous uterus likes being pregnant! Hell, apparently my fallopian tubes we so damned jealous of all the fun MsUterus was having that they decided to get into the game. Go tubes!
A negative IVF cycle, I could live with. I was even ok with - well, not ok, but you know, relatively speaking, I was ok with - a chemical pregnancy. I mean, bummer, but hey, it happens.
But this? What the bloody fuck? It doesn’t so much feel like I’m just coming down on the wrong end of all these teeny tiny “what are the odds of…” questions, as it feels like some huge colossal motherfucking old guy with a bigass beard and an outsized sense of irony is squatting on a cloud somewhere saying, “Nope! Sorry! Fresh out of babies, but I’ll let you get real close a few times, just so you really know what you’re missing out on. Hell, I’ll let you get so close that you’re going to have to poison your own baby so that it doesn’t kill you. How does that sound? Guess you don’t want that baby anywhere near as much as you thought you did, now, do you? How about the consolation prize? I’ve got some fantastic specials going on ‘dying alone and bitter’. whaddya say?”


  1. Yes, miscarriage humor is sort of dark. I've been trying to find some. The best I can do is some egg jokes. Right now, I'm trying to not count my eggs before they hatch. I have a souffle in the oven. I hope it doesn't fall. And, don't you dare try to eat my eggs. Is this funny?

  2. I just say that my baby had ADHD so bad he danced and wiggled his way right of his own little body. So I'm stuck here crying, going "Dude! Can't you like, grow some legs before you go running off to God knows where!"
    Meanwhile, Baby is back in Heaven looking around, wondering how he got back there so fast. So his guardian angel explains to him - once again - how this whole coming to earth and getting a body thing is supposed to work. And my baby goes,
    "What! You gotta be kidding me! There's no way you expected me to stay still in some dark, cramped up place for 40 WHOLE STINKIN' WEEKS! It's a miracle I stayed for six!"