The Very End of Things

It takes about two weeks for the bleeding to stop, and it teases.  Lighter, lighter, heavier.  That’s right.  Your body is still cleaning itself out.  The reminder of my loss is vivid, bright red.  This is the first blood since before Baby Daddy returned in December.

My body continues to malfunction.  Two weeks after the bleeding ends, just when we’ve renewed our not-yet-marital relations, it starts again.  I want to cry when the blood appears, spill more fluids, because I’m losing all over again.  Sometimes there is a pressure deep in my abdomen, and I wonder–maybe there were two.  But there is no movement, none of those flutterings and gurgles that she’d made.  If I’m not dead inside, I’m at least no longer cradling life.

Six weeks after my hospital visit, I bleed heavily, with clots, and call my doctor.  He has me take the little orchid tablet for which I received a prescription at the hospital, in case of emergencies.

This has happened in the late afternoon, and by the time Baby Daddy, now my husband, gets home, I am barely hiding my hysterics.  At dinner, my head spins and my stomach churns.  I lay down in bed while he reads the drug information.  Then I get crazy.  I laugh hysterically, then weep.  The air around me feels heavy, and when I try to lift my arms from the bed, there is a delay.  Even blinking takes effort.  I hear Baby Daddy on the phone in the kitchen with the pharmacy, talking about bringing me to the hospital. 

“I’m not going anywhere!” I say from the bedroom.

“You’re not supposed to be listening,” he says.  “Are you hallucinating?  They say you might.”

I look around to make sure that the world is as I’ve left it.  It seems so.  “I don’t think so,” I say.

Eventually I calm down, and when the time comes to take another pill, I decline.  The bleeding seems to have slowed.  Baby Daddy holds me to him in bed while I laugh and cry.  He likes to be the white knight to my vulnerability, and I begin to fall asleep feeling his erection on my thigh. 

Before sleep takes me completely, I experience my only hallucination:  the gengle jingle of sleigh bells surrounds the bedroom, drifting in through the open windows, and sings me to sleep.

Baby Daddy wakes up at 5:00 for work, and he makes me get out of bed to be sure I can be left alone.  I feel clearheaded except for sleepiness, and I try to be chatty so he doesn’t insist I go with him to his office.  It works.  He leaves, and I go back to bed, where I am learning to no longer dream of babies.


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