Dear Blog,
If I dared I would fantasize what life would be like today if I had not miscarried 31 years ago. It was early in the first term. I’d only discovered I was pregnant about two weeks before.
The First Husband and I were on a road trip. The first day I felt different, lighthearted and relaxed. I remember breaking into song, “I’ve got joy, joy, joy deep in my heart,” as I drove north on Hwy 80 passing the Vallejo exit for Marine World. It surprised both of us.
Several days later I took a home pregnancy test. I did a couple of them to make sure. Hurrah! We had been trying for seven years.
Towards the end of our trip, in the middle of nowhere, we got a flat tire. The First Husband wasn’t feeling well; he didn’t have the strength to lift the new tire in place. I thought I was being careful by sitting on the ground and using my legs to help lift the tire. Wrong! That evening the budding embryo was gone.
The male gynecologist who saw me a couple days later told me you can’t trust home pregnancy tests, while the female nurses who spoke to me over the phone and in person reassured me the tests speak truth. (That’s another reason why I prefer female gynecologists.)
Some people might say it was just as well since the First Husband was told he had cancer several months later and was gone the following year.
Who knows, maybe in a parallel universe five children love their odd, imaginative, and temperamental mom.
I'm going to throw it out there that changing the flat tire wasn't the cause. Tragic. I'm sorry for your loss. But I wouldn't blame anything you did.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the kind words, Liz.
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