Iris

I'm sorry to tell a sad story, but I haven't been able to tell the full story to anyone and I really need to get all of this off my chest. After I have told all of my sad stories I hope to tell only happy ones.

Soon after N's change of heart regarding children, he left on a business trip for three weeks. After our long-distance courting ended with our marriage, we hadn't spent very much time apart. A few weekend trips here and there but...three weeks? It was not fun at all.

I was having a bad time at work at the time, and it was hard not having N there to support me. One day, a coworker with whom I had a long-standing feud verbally abused me in front of all the other staff, which resulted in me crying in the break room for most of the day.

When I got home I was still so mad I could hardly see straight, but then I inexplicably fell asleep for two hours. When I woke up I was still in a bad mood, and well, I really needed a drink.

In the back of my head I had a niggling thought that I was late. I checked my chart. It wasn't exactly clear if I was late or not. It was CD38, but I had had about a week of midcycle bleeding a few weeks before which had thrown everything off. I thought I maybe had ovulated on CD24, but the temperature shift wasn't really convincing.

I really wasn't thinking that I was pregnant, but I decided to take a test anyway so I could enjoy my drink with a clear conscience.

Then I forgot all about the drink, because there were two lines. I laughed and cried at the same time. I couldn't sit still. I couldn't wait to tell N. I ended up showing him with positive test on Sky.pe, and he was understandably stunned. Who gets pregnant on the first try anyway? And we weren't even really trying trying.

Everything went really smoothly. I felt great. N came home a week later, and we had a lot to celebrate.

It was a truly wonderful time, and we couldn't keep it a secret. We told both our families when I was around six weeks along. Everything was beautiful. I ended every day by putting my hand on my belly and saying, "Good night baby. I love you." Even though I had never seen it or held it, I truly loved my child. The depth of love I felt amazed me.

Less than a week after we had shared the news, I started spotting when I was at work. I hadn't had my first prenatal appointment yet, but I made several frantic calls to the midwives I had already decided on seeing, when the time came. They told me not to panic and I didn't--spotting is very common during early pregnancy, after all.

Then, at about three in the afternoon, I started cramping. Horrible, excruciating cramps unlike anything I had ever felt. The bleeding was picking up, and then I started to panic. By the time I managed to drive myself home, the cramps were so bad I couldn't stand. I knew then that it was over. Poor N was terrified. He drove me to the emergency room and didn't let go of my hand the entire time I was there. I ended up delivering the "products of conception" while I was on an examination table. After many blood tests, an empty ultrasound, and a shot of Rhogam, we were sent home.

My immense joy was turned to grief. And I was terrified because I had just experienced both the worst emotional distress and the most blinding physical pain that I had ever felt; I literally couldn't imagine anything worse. I thought, what if this happens again? How would I survive a sorrow that would be still greater than the most intense sorrow that I had ever felt?

After the miscarriage I found this prayer on EWTN which speaks of a miscarried child acting as a personal intercessor for his or her parents. I imagined my first child in heaven, praying for me before God, and that gave me a lot of comfort. It is because of this that I call her Iris. In Greek mythology, Iris is a divine messenger and serves as a link between the gods and humanity.Maybe a little pagan, but I feel it is very fitting.