How it was

(this is not fiction. Oh, how I wish this were fiction)

Friday, 6:15am. My son is asleep beside me. Downstairs I hear my husband getting ready to leave for work. I get up to pee. The toilet paper comes away with blood. I’m five weeks pregnant. I decide that this is not happening. A smear of blood, and a small gray bump. Something gray. Spotting. And something gray. I focus on the spotting. I decide I didn’t see something gray. Flush it down.

More blood. Bright red.

Down the stairs. “Billy!” He’s getting ready to leave for work. He would have been gone two minutes later. “Billy! I’m bleeding.” And then the cramping hits. It’s not cramping. It’s contractions. The contractions hit. Running, stumbling upstairs, back to the bathroom. Leaning against Billy’s chest. This is what intimacy is for; this is why we build it. So that if the time comes, we can sit on the toilet and lean into our lover’s chest as our body expels a baby. Waves of nausea and graywhite light and I think I’m going to black out but I don’t. The contractions keep coming, the end of one rolling into the beginning of the next. All the pain of labor minus the hope. Just fear and loss. Billy’s shirtfront is cool and I lean into it and half hope to pass out but I don’t. I’m right there with it.

Billy goes to call in sick from work. I call my mother. It’s what you do. You call your mother.

There’s blood. More blood than I would have expected at five weeks. Great red streams of it, rich dark clots. Deconstruction. This is a body, breaking down.

To the hospital, to the lab for a blood draw. The phlebotomist is an enormous lumberjack of a man. He’s got a voice too big for indoors, but here we are indoors and he comes into the waiting room, says my name and I jump. “Did I startle you?” he asks. And I say yes, because he did and because I tend not to lie. Yes. He startled me. He says, “Well.” I follow him into the back. I sit on the chair he points to. The chair, too, is huge. My feet don’t touch the floor.

The sleeves of his lab coat are tailored short to expose his tattooed forearms. There’s a psalm on the left one. I read it. Try to remember it. It feels important, that I remember it.

He’s short with me. Not unfriendly, but brisk. He’s decided what I’m about and he’s going to move right through me.

I shift in the chair, accidentally push down the arm rest he’s set up for me. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s been a bad day.” I start to cry. I was determined not to cry in front of strangers today. But there’s no helping it. I’m bleeding. I can feel the baby bleeding out of me. And here’s this man at work, going about his job like it’s any other day. Because it is any other day.

“Ah,” he says, prepping the tourniquet, the needle, the butterfly thing, whatever it’s called. “No need to apologize.” Bright. False cheery. He does not see that I’m crying. Or if he sees it, it already fits with the things he thinks he knows about me, who is easily startled by large men in boots. There are diabetics here; there are cancer patients here. I’m in for a simple blood screen. I’m not crying about anything consequential. I see it in the set of his shoulders, in the way he asks me the required questions for the paperwork. He already knows everything he needs to know about me. Moving right through me, on to the next case.

I do not want to be moved through.

I say, “I’m having a miscarriage.” No. I say, “I’m having a miscar…” and I lose the rest of the word.

“Oh damn,” he says. “Damn. Oh damn.” The words come out of him in a gentle popping, a rush of air, something in him opening where he hadn’t intended to open. His hands on my arm, swabbing the inside of my elbow with alcohol. Touching the center of my palm to relax my fingers down. Soft. Good hands. Whoever loves him must love his hands. “Damn. Oh damn.” He keeps saying it. Sniffing and saying, “Damn. Oh damn.” He draws my blood, bandages my arm. Sniffing, leaning over the paperwork. I read his arm again. I tell myself to remember what it says. It is important to remember what it says.

He looks at me. He doesn’t speak. He looks at me and his face has gone mournful and I think he must be remembering another woman and another baby. He nods. I can leave. He steps back, lets me go.

I forget what his tattoo says before I’m even through the door. Something about strength, something about pain. Nothing true enough to me to take hold.

I sleep. The day ends. Another begins. I wake. There are diapers to change and coffee to drink. We drive to the coast. We hike in the woods and we play in the ocean. Our son eats his first ice cream cone. It’s a day like any other, a good day, even, but with brighter sharper edges.

There is a child we started to make. There was a body coming into being in my body. And that child will never play with us in the ocean. That child will never taste ice cream, or fall asleep on the way home with sand-crusted feet. Someone was going to be born who now never will be. I see mothers with daughters, and that tears such a precise hole in me that I know I’ve lost a girl.

There is a son who is here now, who I love. And there will most likely be another child, a girl or a boy, who I will love. But there will always, always be this other child, who never got past that small gray lump. That child of mine, gone to water. Gone.

Posted in Uncategorized
180 comments on “How it was
  1. Michele says:

    Oh I am so sorry for your loss. No matter how early it isn’t easy. I remember the pain quite well, the fear, the tears, the loss. If I hadn’t lost my first child I would have never had my oldest son. Know that my thoughts are with you.

  2. Michele says:

    Oh I am so sorry for your loss. No matter how early it isn’t easy. I remember the pain quite well, the fear, the tears, the loss. If I hadn’t lost my first child I would have never had my oldest son. Know that my thoughts are with you.

  3. jaci says:

    Wow, words cannot express my sympathy.

  4. jaci says:

    Wow, words cannot express my sympathy.

  5. Rebecca says:

    This might be some of the most beautifully awful words I’ve ever read. How I too wish it was fiction and I wish I had the words to tell you how sorry I am. What I can tell you is that I’m thinking of you, Thumper and Billy.

  6. Rebecca says:

    This might be some of the most beautifully awful words I’ve ever read. How I too wish it was fiction and I wish I had the words to tell you how sorry I am. What I can tell you is that I’m thinking of you, Thumper and Billy.

  7. Sara says:

    I am so sorry that must have been such a harrowing experience. I am so relieved that Billy was there for you. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

  8. Sara says:

    I am so sorry that must have been such a harrowing experience. I am so relieved that Billy was there for you. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

  9. jen says:

    4 yrs. ago today I had my first miscarriage. I would have completely skimmed by the day (I usually only remember that it was just a few weeks before my birthday), but this…wow, Cari…this…everything I have to say pales. I send you healing thoughts & prayers from the west side of utopia.

  10. jen says:

    4 yrs. ago today I had my first miscarriage. I would have completely skimmed by the day (I usually only remember that it was just a few weeks before my birthday), but this…wow, Cari…this…everything I have to say pales. I send you healing thoughts & prayers from the west side of utopia.

  11. Lissa says:

    Oh, your beautifully written grief. I don’t know what to say, but that I am sorry, so sorry.

  12. Lissa says:

    Oh, your beautifully written grief. I don’t know what to say, but that I am sorry, so sorry.

  13. Lizbon says:

    A beautiful story about a terrible thing. I was caught up in it but also kept pausing, thinking, man, she can WRITE.

  14. Lizbon says:

    A beautiful story about a terrible thing. I was caught up in it but also kept pausing, thinking, man, she can WRITE.

  15. Mary says:

    I don’t have the words. Your writing touched me. I keep writing and deleting, I’m sorry. I am so very very sorry.

  16. Mary says:

    I don’t have the words. Your writing touched me. I keep writing and deleting, I’m sorry. I am so very very sorry.

  17. ginchy says:

    words are not enough. I’m so sorry for your loss.

  18. ginchy says:

    words are not enough. I’m so sorry for your loss.

  19. Bullwinkle says:

    I’m so sorry. Sorry that you went through this, sorry for your loss, sorrry for the awful things that happen in this world.

    And so very thankful that you are in my world to express such grief.

  20. Bullwinkle says:

    I’m so sorry. Sorry that you went through this, sorry for your loss, sorrry for the awful things that happen in this world.

    And so very thankful that you are in my world to express such grief.

  21. Ginny says:

    It has been three months since I went through this and I am still waiting for another baby. Your grief gives words to mine that I never could. I am so sorry.

  22. Ginny says:

    It has been three months since I went through this and I am still waiting for another baby. Your grief gives words to mine that I never could. I am so sorry.

  23. Rebecca says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. I have no words adequate to express my sympathy, my sadness for you and Billy.

  24. Rebecca says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. I have no words adequate to express my sympathy, my sadness for you and Billy.

  25. {hugs} It’s good you have Billy to support you, and Thumper to cuddle you. It doesn’t matter how early it is. That might-have-been. ~x~

  26. {hugs} It’s good you have Billy to support you, and Thumper to cuddle you. It doesn’t matter how early it is. That might-have-been. ~x~

  27. Carole says:

    You have written this beautifully. I hope it helps you deal with the pain. I feel like I went through this with you and I wish I could help.

  28. Carole says:

    You have written this beautifully. I hope it helps you deal with the pain. I feel like I went through this with you and I wish I could help.

  29. Beverly says:

    I’m so, so sorry for your loss. Your writing honors your baby.

  30. Beverly says:

    I’m so, so sorry for your loss. Your writing honors your baby.

  31. Sandra says:

    Oh, how I wish it were fiction as well. But your writing reaches the depths of grief you must be feeling, and shares what might have been with all of us. I can’t say I know how you’re feeling – no one does – but I grieve with you, Billy and Thumper.

  32. Sandra says:

    Oh, how I wish it were fiction as well. But your writing reaches the depths of grief you must be feeling, and shares what might have been with all of us. I can’t say I know how you’re feeling – no one does – but I grieve with you, Billy and Thumper.

  33. Riin says:

    I’m so sorry.

    Thank you for writing this. It helps me understand what it might have been like for my mother, who had two miscarriages after me, when I was very young, not really old enough to be aware of such things.

  34. Riin says:

    I’m so sorry.

    Thank you for writing this. It helps me understand what it might have been like for my mother, who had two miscarriages after me, when I was very young, not really old enough to be aware of such things.

  35. Steph VW says:

    Oh Cari, I’m so sorry for your loss. Two of my dearest friends each had two miscarriages in the last year or so – one of whom already had a child. It has reinforced to all of us that life is precious and so tenuous… and the idea of what might have been can break our hearts. I’m so, so sorry.

  36. Steph VW says:

    Oh Cari, I’m so sorry for your loss. Two of my dearest friends each had two miscarriages in the last year or so – one of whom already had a child. It has reinforced to all of us that life is precious and so tenuous… and the idea of what might have been can break our hearts. I’m so, so sorry.

  37. J Strizzy says:

    Oh Cari, I’m so sorry. I wish this were fiction too.

    I’m glad you chose to write this. And to write it so well, so real. There are so many people writing about pregnancy but we don’t often read about miscarriage, the pain and the heartbreak, and we need to.

  38. J Strizzy says:

    Oh Cari, I’m so sorry. I wish this were fiction too.

    I’m glad you chose to write this. And to write it so well, so real. There are so many people writing about pregnancy but we don’t often read about miscarriage, the pain and the heartbreak, and we need to.

  39. Kim K. in PA says:

    Cari, my heart hurts. You have given words to a pain that was previously mute. I am sending thoughts of peace and love to you and your family.

  40. Kim K. in PA says:

    Cari, my heart hurts. You have given words to a pain that was previously mute. I am sending thoughts of peace and love to you and your family.

  41. Cari, I am so sorry for your loss, for your pain, for the difficulty of writing it and rereading it for us to share.
    I wish you healing, strength and peace. I wish you hope.

  42. Cari, I am so sorry for your loss, for your pain, for the difficulty of writing it and rereading it for us to share.
    I wish you healing, strength and peace. I wish you hope.

  43. anina says:

    Love and hugs to you. And kudos for not letting this go unmentioned– a lot of miscarriages are never discussed, which is just a symptom of how much our society doesn’t know how to deal with loss. Of course there are parts of it that you have to go through alone, or within the family, but there are lots of us out here who want to support you and help you feel less alone with this.

  44. anina says:

    Love and hugs to you. And kudos for not letting this go unmentioned– a lot of miscarriages are never discussed, which is just a symptom of how much our society doesn’t know how to deal with loss. Of course there are parts of it that you have to go through alone, or within the family, but there are lots of us out here who want to support you and help you feel less alone with this.

  45. Kim says:

    You write so beautifully. I was nearly crying at the end. I am so so sorry. Sending hugs.

  46. Kim says:

    You write so beautifully. I was nearly crying at the end. I am so so sorry. Sending hugs.

  47. Jody says:

    This is beautiful and brave and so true. I have been there. I’m glad you can share it.

    Miscarraige is a loss, but one that people tend not to take seriously, unless they’ve been through it themselves. But it is a huge loss.

  48. Jody says:

    This is beautiful and brave and so true. I have been there. I’m glad you can share it.

    Miscarraige is a loss, but one that people tend not to take seriously, unless they’ve been through it themselves. But it is a huge loss.

  49. becky says:

    The pain will diminish; the memory will live. She will always be with you in your heart and in spirit. Embrace her. Peace, comfort, love, and hope to you all.

  50. becky says:

    The pain will diminish; the memory will live. She will always be with you in your heart and in spirit. Embrace her. Peace, comfort, love, and hope to you all.

  51. Anna says:

    I don’t even know what to say. I just wish I could give you a big hug.

  52. Anna says:

    I don’t even know what to say. I just wish I could give you a big hug.

  53. claudia says:

    I wish that was different.

    Powerfully written.

  54. claudia says:

    I wish that was different.

    Powerfully written.

  55. Saralyn says:

    We have no words in our language that I know of to say concisely and adequately “your hurt is bigger than I can comprehend, but I wish that I could send you something like strength or healing or redemption that would at least take the hurt and make it into something that means enough to make it seem less like a betrayal by the universe, that would leave you less alone”. That crazy run on sentence is the best that I can do.

  56. Saralyn says:

    We have no words in our language that I know of to say concisely and adequately “your hurt is bigger than I can comprehend, but I wish that I could send you something like strength or healing or redemption that would at least take the hurt and make it into something that means enough to make it seem less like a betrayal by the universe, that would leave you less alone”. That crazy run on sentence is the best that I can do.

  57. Lorajean says:

    My heart is breaking

  58. Lorajean says:

    My heart is breaking

  59. Faith says:

    I so wish you’d never had the need to write that beautiful, awful piece. I am in tears for you and Billy and Thumper, and wish that there was something that anyone could do to make things different.

    I am so sorry.

  60. Faith says:

    I so wish you’d never had the need to write that beautiful, awful piece. I am in tears for you and Billy and Thumper, and wish that there was something that anyone could do to make things different.

    I am so sorry.

  61. Dr. Steph says:

    I’m so sorry. Thinking of you and Billy and Thumper.

  62. Dr. Steph says:

    I’m so sorry. Thinking of you and Billy and Thumper.

  63. regina says:

    Oh my stars. I’m so deeply, awfully sorry. You, Billy and Thumper are in my thoughts. Sending you love.

  64. regina says:

    Oh my stars. I’m so deeply, awfully sorry. You, Billy and Thumper are in my thoughts. Sending you love.

  65. Amy in StL says:

    Oh Cari, even your non-fiction words are beautiful. I think we all wish they could be fiction, though.

  66. Amy in StL says:

    Oh Cari, even your non-fiction words are beautiful. I think we all wish they could be fiction, though.

  67. Jami in WI says:

    My deepest sympathies.

  68. Jami in WI says:

    My deepest sympathies.

  69. Karma says:

    Thank you for sharing this with all of us. Thank you. You are brave and you are loved.

  70. Karma says:

    Thank you for sharing this with all of us. Thank you. You are brave and you are loved.

  71. Kathy says:

    I’m so sorry and am thinking of you and your family.

  72. Kathy says:

    I’m so sorry and am thinking of you and your family.

  73. joan says:

    It is a gift to be able to express yourself with such precision. Thank you for sharing with us, and for allowing us to share this with you. Thinking of you…

  74. joan says:

    It is a gift to be able to express yourself with such precision. Thank you for sharing with us, and for allowing us to share this with you. Thinking of you…

  75. Knittripps says:

    I am so very sorry. Thank you for sharing.

  76. Knittripps says:

    I am so very sorry. Thank you for sharing.

  77. Sharon says:

    I’m really sorry for you too. Thank you for sharing.

  78. Sharon says:

    I’m really sorry for you too. Thank you for sharing.

  79. Mother Chaos says:

    Oh, Cari. I am so very sorry.

    I wish it were fiction, too.

  80. Mother Chaos says:

    Oh, Cari. I am so very sorry.

    I wish it were fiction, too.

  81. Sarah says:

    So sorry for your loss…

  82. Sarah says:

    So sorry for your loss…

  83. Sharon says:

    I’m so sorry. My thoughts are with you.

  84. Sharon says:

    I’m so sorry. My thoughts are with you.

  85. Your words, so beautifully written are so sad. You, Billy and Thumper are in my thoughts.

  86. Your words, so beautifully written are so sad. You, Billy and Thumper are in my thoughts.

  87. Joan says:

    The gift of your words for something that so often goes wordless is a blessing. Thank you.

  88. Joan says:

    The gift of your words for something that so often goes wordless is a blessing. Thank you.

  89. Natalie says:

    You are someone I’ve never met and someone I’ve only gotten to know through your blog, however, I cried with you today and thought about you so many times as I went about my day. I am so sorry this happened and I’m sending prayers and hugs to you and your family.

  90. Natalie says:

    You are someone I’ve never met and someone I’ve only gotten to know through your blog, however, I cried with you today and thought about you so many times as I went about my day. I am so sorry this happened and I’m sending prayers and hugs to you and your family.

  91. Jill says:

    Oh, man. You really got me today. I miscarried nearly four years ago (week 9). You’ve captured that day so vividly. I’m so glad you wrote this because it reminded me of how painful that experience was. I completely understand why you had to tell that guy, why you called your mom, why you denied the gray matter. I guess it’s still a raw spot for me, because I’m crying along with you.

    I wish you peace.

  92. Jill says:

    Oh, man. You really got me today. I miscarried nearly four years ago (week 9). You’ve captured that day so vividly. I’m so glad you wrote this because it reminded me of how painful that experience was. I completely understand why you had to tell that guy, why you called your mom, why you denied the gray matter. I guess it’s still a raw spot for me, because I’m crying along with you.

    I wish you peace.

  93. Truly sorry to hear of your loss! I hope you’d be comforted by the people who care about you and your family. Such bravery and strength in a time when the loss is so profound. Hang in there!

  94. Truly sorry to hear of your loss! I hope you’d be comforted by the people who care about you and your family. Such bravery and strength in a time when the loss is so profound. Hang in there!

  95. Alyssa says:

    I am sorry. I’ll be thinking of you.

  96. Alyssa says:

    I am sorry. I’ll be thinking of you.

  97. Alyssa says:

    I am sorry. I’ll be thinking of you, and treat yourself well. My midwife told me to realize that I was postpartum, no matter what else anyone may think. Rest, breathe, and my deep condolences.

  98. Alyssa says:

    I am sorry. I’ll be thinking of you, and treat yourself well. My midwife told me to realize that I was postpartum, no matter what else anyone may think. Rest, breathe, and my deep condolences.

  99. Heather says:

    You give such honour to your lost child. Times like these make me think of the Japanese mizugo shrines – shrines to children lost before they are born. Kittredge Cherry talks about the concept, and the ‘water babies.’

    I’m so very, very sorry for your loss.

  100. Heather says:

    You give such honour to your lost child. Times like these make me think of the Japanese mizugo shrines – shrines to children lost before they are born. Kittredge Cherry talks about the concept, and the ‘water babies.’

    I’m so very, very sorry for your loss.

  101. LizD says:

    So, so, sorry. Sharing this takes a great deal of strength.

  102. LizD says:

    So, so, sorry. Sharing this takes a great deal of strength.

  103. Lee says:

    26 years ago I lost a baby girl. She is always with me. One year later I gave birth to her sister. Without the loss of the one I would not have the other. The second birth does not make the first any less terrible. They exist together in time and in my heart.

  104. Lee says:

    26 years ago I lost a baby girl. She is always with me. One year later I gave birth to her sister. Without the loss of the one I would not have the other. The second birth does not make the first any less terrible. They exist together in time and in my heart.

  105. Julene says:

    I am so very, very sorry and want to add my wishes of peace for you.

  106. Julene says:

    I am so very, very sorry and want to add my wishes of peace for you.

  107. Dee says:

    I’m sorry and hope your days will be brighter.

  108. Dee says:

    I’m sorry and hope your days will be brighter.

  109. Lee says:

    I wish I had the words to give you some sense of comfort. At least they can let you know you are not alone. My deepest sympathy to you and Billy.

  110. Lee says:

    I wish I had the words to give you some sense of comfort. At least they can let you know you are not alone. My deepest sympathy to you and Billy.

  111. Natalie says:

    So sorry for your loss. Almost three years ago, at about 7 weeks, I lost a piece of our future, also. Only those who have been through it can understand how much hope you put into a tiny person you haven’t met. Thanks for sharing and allowing us to do the same.

  112. Natalie says:

    So sorry for your loss. Almost three years ago, at about 7 weeks, I lost a piece of our future, also. Only those who have been through it can understand how much hope you put into a tiny person you haven’t met. Thanks for sharing and allowing us to do the same.

  113. Ruth says:

    You honour your loss beautifully. I am so sorry.

  114. Ruth says:

    You honour your loss beautifully. I am so sorry.

  115. Jennifer says:

    I’m crying along with you–I’m so very sorry for your loss. Your words were so touching.

  116. Jennifer says:

    I’m crying along with you–I’m so very sorry for your loss. Your words were so touching.

  117. gaile says:

    I too am sorry to hear of your loss, and the sadness and emptiness you are feeling. Your story is beautiful and raw and lovely, even as we all wish it were fiction. I hope that you are comforted by your family, even as you cherish this child that will not be.

  118. gaile says:

    I too am sorry to hear of your loss, and the sadness and emptiness you are feeling. Your story is beautiful and raw and lovely, even as we all wish it were fiction. I hope that you are comforted by your family, even as you cherish this child that will not be.

  119. adam says:

    Ah, shit. It’s a miracle what the heart can hold, what with all the holes in it.

  120. adam says:

    Ah, shit. It’s a miracle what the heart can hold, what with all the holes in it.

  121. katie says:

    You are undoubtedly a writer.
    I am so sorry for your loss.
    I am comforted my your honesty and by the thought that you have intimacy around you.
    blessings and hope…

  122. katie says:

    You are undoubtedly a writer.
    I am so sorry for your loss.
    I am comforted my your honesty and by the thought that you have intimacy around you.
    blessings and hope…

  123. Jen says:

    Thank you. Thank you for writing this – just thank you. And I’m sorry.

  124. Jen says:

    Thank you. Thank you for writing this – just thank you. And I’m sorry.

  125. Benny says:

    There truly are no words. I am so very sorry for your loss, and my heart is with you and your family. Thank you for having such a brave soul to share this.

  126. Benny says:

    There truly are no words. I am so very sorry for your loss, and my heart is with you and your family. Thank you for having such a brave soul to share this.

  127. Deb says:

    I am sorry. So sorry.

  128. Deb says:

    I am sorry. So sorry.

  129. robin says:

    I am so sorry for your family and sad that your mom’s not there with you – hope you get some comfort from those who responded who needed to hear the sorrow they had experienced put into words so well.

  130. robin says:

    I am so sorry for your family and sad that your mom’s not there with you – hope you get some comfort from those who responded who needed to hear the sorrow they had experienced put into words so well.

  131. and we will surround you and support you and be the strength you forget you have…

    much love, friend.

  132. and we will surround you and support you and be the strength you forget you have…

    much love, friend.

  133. Samantha says:

    One more genuine wish of condolence, a heartfelt reaching across the continent to offer my thoughts, best wishes and support. And the perhaps ridiculously obvious statement that time heals all wounds. The strength you exhibit so poignantly in your writing will carry you through this.
    Peace be with you.

  134. Samantha says:

    One more genuine wish of condolence, a heartfelt reaching across the continent to offer my thoughts, best wishes and support. And the perhaps ridiculously obvious statement that time heals all wounds. The strength you exhibit so poignantly in your writing will carry you through this.
    Peace be with you.

  135. Glenda in GA says:

    I’m so sorry for your loss. Stay strong and know we’re thinking of you. Sending virtual hugs your way. Hang in there and knit to you heart’s content. Yarn always helps.

  136. Glenda in GA says:

    I’m so sorry for your loss. Stay strong and know we’re thinking of you. Sending virtual hugs your way. Hang in there and knit to you heart’s content. Yarn always helps.

  137. tara says:

    I’m truly sorry for your loss.

  138. tara says:

    I’m truly sorry for your loss.

  139. neysa says:

    i am so sorry. i am so touched by your sharing of this experience. thank you.

    so very sorry. thinking of you all.

  140. neysa says:

    i am so sorry. i am so touched by your sharing of this experience. thank you.

    so very sorry. thinking of you all.

  141. Lisa says:

    I am truly sorry your family’s loss. Lots of hugs.

  142. Lisa says:

    I am truly sorry your family’s loss. Lots of hugs.

  143. inglesidebelle says:

    I’m so very, very sorry.

    I’ve been there.

    Twice.

    You will always remember, but it will not always hurt so much.

    It’s hard to talk about it with other people because it was so early, and probably no one else knew about it, but that baby was real. I’m glad that your husband was there for you.

    P.S. Hope.
    I conceived another child within a few months of my second miscarriage. She is now a delightful, warm, caring 14-year-old. If I had not miscarried, she would not be here. We do not know what the child I lost was like, but I think he is watching over her (yes, I feel that that baby was a boy; isn’t it interesting that we have a sense of the sex of the baby we lost?).
    I hope you, too, will conceive again soon.

    P.P.S. I’m not a regular reader of your blog. I followed a knitting link here and read your story. May it comfort you to know that someone who doesn’t know you is wishing all good things for you.

  144. inglesidebelle says:

    I’m so very, very sorry.

    I’ve been there.

    Twice.

    You will always remember, but it will not always hurt so much.

    It’s hard to talk about it with other people because it was so early, and probably no one else knew about it, but that baby was real. I’m glad that your husband was there for you.

    P.S. Hope.
    I conceived another child within a few months of my second miscarriage. She is now a delightful, warm, caring 14-year-old. If I had not miscarried, she would not be here. We do not know what the child I lost was like, but I think he is watching over her (yes, I feel that that baby was a boy; isn’t it interesting that we have a sense of the sex of the baby we lost?).
    I hope you, too, will conceive again soon.

    P.P.S. I’m not a regular reader of your blog. I followed a knitting link here and read your story. May it comfort you to know that someone who doesn’t know you is wishing all good things for you.

  145. Rebecca says:

    Oh Cari, I’m so, so sorry. Thank you for sharing with us, so that we can offer up our sympathy and tears for you. I think you said that you sometimes struggle with how much to put out here on your blog, and, well, I think this was right.

  146. Rebecca says:

    Oh Cari, I’m so, so sorry. Thank you for sharing with us, so that we can offer up our sympathy and tears for you. I think you said that you sometimes struggle with how much to put out here on your blog, and, well, I think this was right.

  147. ali says:

    This is so beautifully written. Thank you for writing. I’m so sorry for your loss. So, so, so very sorry.

  148. ali says:

    This is so beautifully written. Thank you for writing. I’m so sorry for your loss. So, so, so very sorry.

  149. megan says:

    I’m so sorry to read this, but am glad you shared your story. Loosing a baby isn’t something that we’re supposed to talk about which makes the grieving process that much harder. I’m so so sorry for your loss.

  150. megan says:

    I’m so sorry to read this, but am glad you shared your story. Loosing a baby isn’t something that we’re supposed to talk about which makes the grieving process that much harder. I’m so so sorry for your loss.

  151. Samantha says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. It is hard now, but it will get easier, I promise. You will never forget, but eventually you will be able to move beyond the grief. {{{hugs}}}

  152. Samantha says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. It is hard now, but it will get easier, I promise. You will never forget, but eventually you will be able to move beyond the grief. {{{hugs}}}

  153. Katie says:

    Oh sweetie. I read this in the coffee shop and I should have read it at home because the people all around me are wondering why I’m crying over my iced latte and blueberry muffin.

    I do connect that way with music. I love jangly British guitars, music that swirls, and people with odd voices. Men with whisky and soda voices or women with a lush almost silken quality. I’m sending people CDs to pass the time between rewrites. I should make you a CD of all my favorites.

    This is a beautiful post for all its pain and suffering, or perhaps because of those things rendered in your lovely prose.

    Oddly I got my period just I was reading this. 10 days early. Cramping and blood. How strange.

  154. Katie says:

    Oh sweetie. I read this in the coffee shop and I should have read it at home because the people all around me are wondering why I’m crying over my iced latte and blueberry muffin.

    I do connect that way with music. I love jangly British guitars, music that swirls, and people with odd voices. Men with whisky and soda voices or women with a lush almost silken quality. I’m sending people CDs to pass the time between rewrites. I should make you a CD of all my favorites.

    This is a beautiful post for all its pain and suffering, or perhaps because of those things rendered in your lovely prose.

    Oddly I got my period just I was reading this. 10 days early. Cramping and blood. How strange.

  155. Amy says:

    That’s so beautiful, and so terrible. Thank you for writing it, and for sharing it with us.

  156. Amy says:

    That’s so beautiful, and so terrible. Thank you for writing it, and for sharing it with us.

  157. TracyKM says:

    I’m so sorry for your loss. I went through it too. It eventually was a blessing though as I would not have been able to cope with a newborn while my son was going through a really hard time. I ended up conceiving again shortly after I would have been due, and it was a much better pregnancy/infancy than I knew I would have had. But it’s still hard, and I just realized that it’s been 7 years this week.

  158. TracyKM says:

    I’m so sorry for your loss. I went through it too. It eventually was a blessing though as I would not have been able to cope with a newborn while my son was going through a really hard time. I ended up conceiving again shortly after I would have been due, and it was a much better pregnancy/infancy than I knew I would have had. But it’s still hard, and I just realized that it’s been 7 years this week.

  159. I am here via Alice in the Rabbit Hole … I am so sorry for your loss. I have been there — twice — and I promise it does get better. You never forget, of course, and it will always be very, very sad, but it does get better.

  160. I am here via Alice in the Rabbit Hole … I am so sorry for your loss. I have been there — twice — and I promise it does get better. You never forget, of course, and it will always be very, very sad, but it does get better.

  161. Jan E says:

    Grief shared is grief spent… we grieve with you.

  162. Jan E says:

    Grief shared is grief spent… we grieve with you.

  163. Lulu says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I read this. I can’t possibly know what you must be going through, but this was a beautiful tribute to your baby. You are an amazing writer, to be able to take such a difficult, painful topic – that just happened – and put it into such poignant words.

  164. Lulu says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I read this. I can’t possibly know what you must be going through, but this was a beautiful tribute to your baby. You are an amazing writer, to be able to take such a difficult, painful topic – that just happened – and put it into such poignant words.

  165. Lee Ann says:

    I, too, wish it was different.

    Thank you for your trust in the universe. I don’t think I’ve ever read such a powerful account of an experience many of us have had but never want to talk about. All the love in the world to you, sweetheart.

  166. Lee Ann says:

    I, too, wish it was different.

    Thank you for your trust in the universe. I don’t think I’ve ever read such a powerful account of an experience many of us have had but never want to talk about. All the love in the world to you, sweetheart.

  167. john says:

    My sweet darling.

    I was walking on East 3rd Street between 1st and 2nd avenues yesterday. Had just come from Downtown Yarns.

    I passed a woman with a baby in one of those sling-thingys that you uber-cool (and sensitive to the womb-feelings of babies) mommies like to transport your little ones around in. I immediately thought of you. Of course. All I could see was a fuzzy little mound of hair peeking over the bundle. As I passed her — I sighed. And she looked down with the most caring of faces.

    Something put me in touch with your need to be consoled and cared about at this time. I started chanting to myself, “dogsstealyarn. dogsstealyarn.” go there NOW.

    I now believe in angels.

    My thoughts are with you all.

    kisses,
    John

  168. john says:

    My sweet darling.

    I was walking on East 3rd Street between 1st and 2nd avenues yesterday. Had just come from Downtown Yarns.

    I passed a woman with a baby in one of those sling-thingys that you uber-cool (and sensitive to the womb-feelings of babies) mommies like to transport your little ones around in. I immediately thought of you. Of course. All I could see was a fuzzy little mound of hair peeking over the bundle. As I passed her — I sighed. And she looked down with the most caring of faces.

    Something put me in touch with your need to be consoled and cared about at this time. I started chanting to myself, “dogsstealyarn. dogsstealyarn.” go there NOW.

    I now believe in angels.

    My thoughts are with you all.

    kisses,
    John

  169. larissa says:

    Cari, I did not know about this when I saw you the other day. I feel heartless for talking to you just like it was any other day. I’m sending my love. I know this is past, but I’m sure it still hurts and I wish you peace.

  170. larissa says:

    Cari, I did not know about this when I saw you the other day. I feel heartless for talking to you just like it was any other day. I’m sending my love. I know this is past, but I’m sure it still hurts and I wish you peace.

  171. marnie says:

    Hey Cari, I am just devastated to hear this. I am so very sorry for your loss… I feel as if I know you even though we haven’t met. I’m David Roth’s sister in Albuquerque and he’s told me loads about you and your beautiful family. I hope you are healing. Goddess bless.

    Marnie

  172. marnie says:

    Hey Cari, I am just devastated to hear this. I am so very sorry for your loss… I feel as if I know you even though we haven’t met. I’m David Roth’s sister in Albuquerque and he’s told me loads about you and your beautiful family. I hope you are healing. Goddess bless.

    Marnie

  173. Anneliese says:

    Cari – I am so sorry for you and your family to read this. It seems, in your subsequent posts, that you are finding beautiful things all around you. Good thoughts and wishes to you.

  174. Anneliese says:

    Cari – I am so sorry for you and your family to read this. It seems, in your subsequent posts, that you are finding beautiful things all around you. Good thoughts and wishes to you.

  175. Annie says:

    Oh, there are just no words. I have been through this three times and there are still no words. I am so sorry that you will never get to hold your baby in your arms. ((hugs))

  176. Annie says:

    Oh, there are just no words. I have been through this three times and there are still no words. I am so sorry that you will never get to hold your baby in your arms. ((hugs))

  177. JuliaS says:

    Here from Bridges.

    Beautiful words – terribly beautiful. I’m so sorry – I’ve been there, I know how it can feel and how it can tear your soul apart.

    All my best wishes and hopes.

  178. JuliaS says:

    Here from Bridges.

    Beautiful words – terribly beautiful. I’m so sorry – I’ve been there, I know how it can feel and how it can tear your soul apart.

    All my best wishes and hopes.

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