Showing posts with label Black Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black Humor. Show all posts
Monday, February 23, 2009
The D&C
A little dark humor: "I survived my D&C and all I have to show for it is some lousy mesh panties."
Labels:
Black Humor,
D and C,
Miscarriage,
Recurrent Pregnancy Loss
Friday, December 12, 2008
"And now, I shall have a margarita"
Alice at Finslippy on the experience of suddenly finding oneself UNpregnant:
So as I said. Yesterday, I was pregnant. Scott went to work, Henry went to school, and I… well, I went to the bathroom, where I noticed some spotting. It was spotting so tiny that I could have ignored it. I could have not seen it at all. It was an eensy brown smudge. Nonetheless, I promptly began hyperventilating. This is what I do. Because if I worry hard enough I can ward off any bad news. If I'm neurotic enough, the universe will laugh, pat me on the head, and rain disaster down on some unsuspecting sane person. I called my doctor, who was as unconcerned as any normal human being would be, but suggested that I come in, just for peace of mind. I made an appointment for the afternoon, and after that, there was absolutely no spotting. Nothing at all. I laughed at myself, at what a big deal I had made over this tiny one-time smudgy nothing.
Everything was casual and light at the OB/GYN, until the ultrasound. The first thing I noticed was the absence of movement. Maybe it's the angle? I thought. She was moving all around my abdomen, so it was hard to say. Then she began pointing things out to me. "Here, you see, here is where I should see a heartbeat." I'm so sorry, she kept saying, I'm so sorry. She began measuring. I'm so sorry, she repeated, it looks like growth ended at about eight and a half weeks.
Everything that follows is a blur. I believe the first thought I had was, "And now I shall have a margarita."
FOLLOW TMB on TWITTER
So as I said. Yesterday, I was pregnant. Scott went to work, Henry went to school, and I… well, I went to the bathroom, where I noticed some spotting. It was spotting so tiny that I could have ignored it. I could have not seen it at all. It was an eensy brown smudge. Nonetheless, I promptly began hyperventilating. This is what I do. Because if I worry hard enough I can ward off any bad news. If I'm neurotic enough, the universe will laugh, pat me on the head, and rain disaster down on some unsuspecting sane person. I called my doctor, who was as unconcerned as any normal human being would be, but suggested that I come in, just for peace of mind. I made an appointment for the afternoon, and after that, there was absolutely no spotting. Nothing at all. I laughed at myself, at what a big deal I had made over this tiny one-time smudgy nothing.
Everything was casual and light at the OB/GYN, until the ultrasound. The first thing I noticed was the absence of movement. Maybe it's the angle? I thought. She was moving all around my abdomen, so it was hard to say. Then she began pointing things out to me. "Here, you see, here is where I should see a heartbeat." I'm so sorry, she kept saying, I'm so sorry. She began measuring. I'm so sorry, she repeated, it looks like growth ended at about eight and a half weeks.
Everything that follows is a blur. I believe the first thought I had was, "And now I shall have a margarita."
FOLLOW TMB on TWITTER
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?”
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?”
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