This morning I finish off the last of my antibiotics. I’ve been on antibiotics for nearly a month now, and a test proved that I am, currently, infection-free. But despite being without the fun of a kidney/UTI infection, I wrote to my doctor and asked him if he could please phone in a prescription for a few days of the antibiotic, so that I could have it around prophylactically. This gave me much angst. Not writing to him asking for medication, no I had grief because “prophylactically” is not a word. But I couldn’t see any word that would suffice in the “I don’t need it now, I just want it for prevention, so would you be a dear and get that little prescription pad out for me now, hmm?”

I call the doctorÂ’s office yesterday to ensure the prescription had been written. I felt a bit weird about it, as though they would tag me as a drug addict, which is something IÂ’m familiar with-in college whenever I had a migraine that got out of control and necessitated a hospital visit IÂ’d invariably get asked about my possible narcotics addiction. I would always have to explain that the drug I needed to kill the migraine wasnÂ’t a narcotic, and that IÂ’d had migraines since I was 5, thank you very much, now can you please make it go away? But I was only asking for a few days worth of antibiotics, I didnÂ’t want any painkillers. ItÂ’s not like I could grind up the antibiotics and have a fun time with them or anything.

I get the receptionist on the phone, and she is of the “My GOD I work for a doctor, do you have any idea how busy and important I am, you sick diseased little bug?” variety. She tells me that my prescription is ready. I ask if I can pick it up in the morning and she sniffs haughtily and says in an “I can out-piss any pissy attitude you have” tone of voice that I can pick up the prescription any time I so choose.

I choose today then.

Perhaps it’s nothing. Perhaps I’m being paranoid over something small. But my mood isn’t great today, I’ll be honest, and so I apologize if this post is all over the place. I’m pretty fucked off about this guy. I’m a pacifist and I don’t support any of that “eye for an eye” business, but there’s some kind of broken switch inside of me somewhere whereby still I don’t do “eye for an eye”….unless there are animals involved. Then I become unglued. Sitting here and writing this post, I have Gorby on the floor of the living room, rolling around with his toys. Maggie is snoring on the couch beside me. My two rescue babies are a little slice of heaven, and I want to grab that fucking asshole and scream at him “Think you’re a big shot now, huh? You have such a big dick, right, you're a real man? You get dogs to maul each other to death and you yourself have hung a number of ‘underperformers’ and in my world, you bastard, that gets punished, and that includes losing your precious career that is supposed to make you a role model.” We all have our triggers. Animal abuse is a big one of mine.

The home PC – which is in the process of being moved from my study to the living room - has suddenly fallen over and died with the new BIOS that Angus installed, and a broken computer always sends Angus over the brink of depression, and he won’t return from said brink until the PC is working again (which may be a while as the BIOS isn't letting him roll back to the previous version). We still are stressed about Jeff. The weather is bleak and grim. The house is a wreck (which I’ll deal with today).

But the antibiotics were non-negotiable.

Because this weekend is our last 3-day weekend until Christmas. ItÂ’s no specific holiday on Monday, itÂ’s just a bank holiday weekend, but things go wrong for me on bank holiday weekends. If things go pear-shaped, then it will get all fruity on 3 day weekends where things are closed. And IÂ’m almost certainly being superstitious, but this weekend (above all bank holiday weekends) is the worst one.

On this Friday, one year ago, I started to bleed.

I was about 6 weeks pregnant, and the week after I was due to go in for a scan and (hopefully) see the heartbeat. The bleeding on that Friday was brown blood, which is seen in pregnancies and can be one of many things, some of them good, some of them bad. The brown blood turned to red blood, which tends to mean bad things in early pregnancy. We went to the A&E a few times, and were shown one fetal sac hanging in there. The ultrasound technician was inexperienced and couldnÂ’t make out details. We had to come back on Tuesday, after the bank holiday, to see what we could see. The bleeding was torrential by Sunday evening, and great fist-sized blood clots came out of me on Monday.

I think we knew where it was all going.

They confirmed it on Tuesday. My body had gone through what was called a complete miscarriage. All signs of the fetus were gone. Nature had cleaned me out.

Thus started a very dark month. Months, even. I was completely down in the dumps for a long while, and it would hit me from time to time that my body had betrayed me. Perhaps I took it harder than I should have. I certainly seemed to have taken it harder than a lot of the infertile bloggers I would come across.

But then I started to recover. By the end of the year, I was happy again. I remember being in Canada and skiing and laughing and feeling fantastic, feeling like me again. It remains my single most favorite holiday of all of my holidays, ever.

IÂ’m not tormented by what happened last year - it's not like it was ok that it happened, it wasn't a good thing, but it doesn't eat me anymore. I miscarried the one I called Dr. Seuss Baby. I tell myself that the child I lost was not meant to be for us, and somehow it helps me. I will never, ever forget what happened or how I felt or everything around it, not ever. That baby would have been born in April this year, and my map of the world would have looked incredibly different had it worked out. But itÂ’s one of those things that has occurred in my life, one of those no-good-rotten-very-bad-things, and maybe the blow of that miscarriage has been mitigated over time by my own recovery, or the emergence of the Lemonheads, or therapy, or who knows what.

When I go into a church I still light a candle for Dr. Seuss baby when I can. The candle is lit for Kim, my grandpa, Egg and Bacon, and the Little Embryo That CouldnÂ’t. I owe them all that, that little gesture, that symbol which maybe comforts only me.

This is not one of those introspective dark moments for me, where I look back and say “That was a different Helen, the old Helen.” It’s not like that. That Helen last August, that Helen was me. I went through that. I even had a similar scare with the Lemonheads over a three day weekend in my early pregnancy this time, but I just felt a foot whack against my right lung and I am reminded that this time, things are different. I am me, and I am present for it, and even though I am being paranoid I will have a little box of pills in my kitchen cupboard, just in case.

Not everything has to be a pattern.

This could be my new mantra.

It's a bank holiday weekend. And I will think of that weekend last year. I will say goodbye. And life, it goes on.

HereÂ’s to Dr. Seuss Baby for choosing me for as long as it did.

IÂ’ll see you on the other side, sweetheart.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 10:03 AM | Comments (15) | Add Comment
Post contains 1387 words, total size 8 kb.

1 *hug*

Posted by: ~Easy at August 24, 2007 11:35 AM (OfRIX)

2 My brother keeps telling me things happen for a reason. Perhaps we don't know or understand the reason at the time, but there is a reason. (And he's not a religious man) I'm begining to belive him on this one point. Congratulations, you've beaten last year. Best wishes as always for you and the lemonheads (and family).

Posted by: Angela at August 24, 2007 11:36 AM (DGWM7)

3 Why do such sweet names always want to make me cry? Soon, the lemonheads will be there and you'll be so busy - and I hope so happy. At least nobody will be kicking your lung anymore.

Posted by: Hannah at August 24, 2007 12:02 PM (5w+E2)

4 I, too, would have gotten a prescription for my back pocket, just in case. You gotta take care of your babies. Just like you'll be taking them to the pediatrician soon and getting diagnoses of "gas" and "diaper rash." It's ok! You're a MOM, and you have responsibilities to the little ones!! Enjoy your last holiday weekend with just you and A for a long time! Ok, maybe it's already not just the 2 of you if you count the ongoing kicks and squirms and such. I realize that this pregnancy has been *hard* but I'm really enjoying living this vicariously though you and cannot wait to experience your favorite holiday (it's coming pretty soon!) in a whole new light!

Posted by: BeachGirl at August 24, 2007 01:54 PM (RgeoX)

5 Here's to a lovely, non pearshaped, long weekend for you. I think the prescription is a marvelous idea, so don't worry about that pissy attitude. I agree about "this guy." My Percy and Spencer are rescues as well, and he gives me the all out heebie-jeebies. I want him to go ahead and go away and never come back. The only thing about the story that has made me smile a little, is that some other guys have made "this guy" chew toys and given some of the money to animal charities. I think he will do jail time, but it won't be near enough for me. Congrats on the huge leaps and bounds you have made in therapy. As a fellow therapy warrior, I know how hard and amazing it is. Relax this weekend, okay?

Posted by: sophie at August 24, 2007 02:09 PM (AY+fk)

6 *sniff* Have a lovely, easy, worry-free weekend!

Posted by: caltechgirl at August 24, 2007 02:53 PM (/vgMZ)

7 Brave, sweet Helen... what a momma you are...and forever shall be.

Posted by: sue at August 24, 2007 03:27 PM (WbfZD)

8 As one who has lost one I share your feeling of thanks to havebeen chosen for the three weeks graced my life with hers. Your comment brought tears- again. And that person is so vile as to defy descriprion. And there have been claims that dog fighting is a sport just like any other. Non-sense. But why does this surprise anyone? Seems to me many pro athletes have devolved to thugs anyway.

Posted by: Foggy at August 24, 2007 04:11 PM (Kq6pH)

9 I've had all sorts of doctors give me prescriptions to have on hand. I once had my dentist prescribe me an antibiotic in conjunction with my root canal. He wrote it for three refills because he knew I had horrible insurance and it was a good, general antibiotic in case I got sick. In college my doctor at home used to write prescriptions for me as well to take with me to school. Ain't no shame in a little safety measure in your cabinet, babe.

Posted by: amy t. at August 24, 2007 04:35 PM (3dOTd)

10 If a packet of pills in the pantry helps you get through the night (or three-day weekend) then so be it. It's not such a huge price, you know. And you're totally, completely worth it. xoxo

Posted by: Margi at August 24, 2007 04:48 PM (wtla3)

11 I noticed in the article that someone remarked on the furor and hatred surrounding what this man did is worse than if he had done it to people. I've noticed that too over the years and felt it myself. Personally, I think the amount of helplessness is why. Anything with children, babies or animals being hurt and somehow, I become more enraged. I know it's not "fair"; if an adult gets hurt, they are just as helpless, right? But maybe not...maybe we are thinking at least an adult can fight back somehow, somewhat. There is a chance they can save themselves somehow. And if they do survive, an adult has a chance to do something about it. Pets and children cannot. There was no chance for these dogs. No chances for babies or small children who are hurt or killed, either. None. They are all so helpless. Maybe that's why most/many of us tend to become even more angry about such atrocities. Most good people want to protect the helpless, it is ingrained in our psyche. As for everything having a reason, like your miscarriage...that's hard. What is the reason for the dogs being killed uselessly? For babies and children raped, murdered, etc.? I would suggest if there was a reason for your loss, Helen, it wasn't about you. It wasn't *your* reason, but another's reason. I do believe we are all vulnerable to one another. "Reasons" come from all sides, not just our own. Which is why I get annoyed when people "pray" for their team to win or whatever...well, what about the other team? They have just as much right to win as your team does. Anyway, I know you're feeling sad and a lot of this has to do with it being getting ready for the birth. You're going to be such an awesome mom, hell, you already are!

Posted by: The other Amber at August 24, 2007 06:17 PM (zQE5D)

12 That man (and I use the term loosely) is scum!

Posted by: kenju at August 25, 2007 02:17 AM (TiGru)

13 Good for you Helen for being so very pregnant and for doing so well. I am glad that all is well with your soul and body. You will be a very busy woman soon, but a happy one for sure. The lemon heads will have a nice mommy. Take care.

Posted by: Irene at August 25, 2007 05:21 AM (RL+iu)

14 Life going on is sometimes the hardest thing to deal with. I can't believe it was a year ago, so much has happened since then. And the guy? How in the hell in this day and age do people still engage in such a barbaric practice? And he still gets to play ball? I just don't get it. I hate to break anyone's bubble, while football may generate a lot of cash, it is not that important. He is in old terms a psychopath, unable to feel empathy for anything around him, and using animals to bolster his own small ego. It makes me sick.

Posted by: Teresa at August 25, 2007 08:10 PM (CuYvn)

15 As a devoted EDS reader and a devoted Tolkein fan I offer three suggestions: Galadriel Arwen Aragon All royalty and of character. Seemed to me to representative of the home thye will grace with their reciprocated love.

Posted by: Foggy at August 27, 2007 07:57 PM (WlHuv)

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