A loaded mother's day

Me with another one of my winning hair-dos, and the kiddos
circa 2007 in one of our favorite postures, reading in bed.
Please note my slit throat, which provided
a rare instance to feel badass.

The first time I got pregnant I was 33 years old, my husband Bob was 43. We were on the back end of our biological clocks (or at least I was), but we may as well have been teenagers. We were so excited and so naïve. We didn’t know about the caution to keep it quiet for the first trimester due to all the unknowns.

When we went in for our initial appointment, they gave us an ultrasound, which in hindsight was probably not necessary but evidently that’s what they did in the late 90s in downtown Brooklyn. (I would get many more ultrasounds in the next few years.) The six week ultrasound confirmed I was pregnant. It also discovered twins growing in my uterus. Twins! Bob and I were thrilled beyond belief. We had waited so long -- not by choice but more by circumstance, and now we were having twins.

It was worse than keeping a Christmas secret. We were having twins! We told my family, Bob’s family, my workplace, Bob’s colleagues, our church, our neighbors, people at the diner, people on the subway (kidding on the last one). We pretty much told everyone. We would have taken out a billboard had we thought of it.

You know where this is going.

I started bleeding approximately one week later. It was Memorial Day weekend 1995. When I realized the bleeding wasn’t going to stop, I posed a compromise to my body. You dispose of one twin, I’ll keep the other. I’d accept one baby. I’d be grateful for one baby. I begged for one baby. The universe could take the other, just give me one. But no, I kept bleeding. I can’t remember but I’m sure we must have called the doctor. I’m sure the doctor was not surprised and I’m sure the doctor said to just bear it out and come in first thing after the weekend. The doctor knew that up to 20 percent of all pregnancies end in miscarriage during the first weeks of pregnancy. They call it spontaneous abortion and there’s nothing fancy western healthcare can do. After two days of hemorrhaging I conceded that both babies were lost. There were no twins.

It was a sunny day when Bob and went to the follow up appointment. It was pretty routine. My health was fine. The babies were gone. Bob and I held hands as we walked away from the clinic. I would have liked it to be over starting exactly that moment, but dang, we told everyone we were having twins. Which meant we had to tell everyone that I had miscarried the twins. There was no way around it. I had wished so badly that we had kept our mouths shut because I wanted it to be over. 

The next day I went in to the office and I felt funny. I was barren and everyone thought I was carrying twins. I didn’t know what to do so I went straight to my HR director and blurted out to her that I’d miscarried. I cried and told her I didn’t want to repeat the story over and over. That awesome HR director knew exactly what to say, offered her complete sympathy, and said she’d take care of it. (Thank you Ann, if you’re out there.) She discretely informed everyone at the office of the situation. As the day drew on, I couldn’t believe how many people, both men and women, came up to me quietly to confide that the same thing had happened to themselves or their wives.

This kept happening.

I wouldn’t have chosen to tell everyone I had miscarried, but hearing other people’s stories brought much healing.

I’ll never say that “it was God’s plan” or anything like that, because I can’t believe that any kind of divine power would intentionally take twin babies, or even one baby. But still, at this point I can’t imagine it any other way than having my Amanda and my Aidan. My heart goes out to all the mothers who couldn’t have children, who are separated from their children, who lost their children, or who have fallen out of relationship with their children. Same goes the other way. My heart is full for those who have lost their mothers.

Mother’s Day is loaded.

Mom and me 2012.

And so even as I give thanks for my kids, for my beautiful mother, and my dear mother-in-law, I commend these communities of mothers, in case any one of them might be useful for you:

Babies, Infertility, and Mother’s Day, a powerful blog post and resources from a fabulously talented seminary friend, Rev. Jodi Houge.

Motherless Daughters, a website, a book, and a worldwide movement, launched by Hope Edelman, a writer and teacher who I was honored to be mentored by for a year.

Little Seal, a blog turned book (“Still Point of a Turning World”) about the loss of a child, by Emily Rapp, another writing teacher I was privileged to learn from.

Thanks for coming by my blog. I wish you all -- whoever you are, and where ever you are with your motherhood -- a lovely weekend.  

With love from yours truly,

Natural Born Bleeding Heart