Monday, February 16, 2009

waiting on spring...

I cannot even begin to express my recent tendency to cry.
Tears well up on the rims of my eyeballs without warning, without explanation, without an apparent reason. Except, I know there is a reason. Bigger than me and vast like the sky above my favorite lakes--a reason.

Yesterday, in the shower at the gym, I had a wee anxiety attack. My breathing became shallow and the coldness that dashes dark and bright across my belly, when confronted with thoughts of loss of control and mortality, coated my skin even though my body was hot through and through from time in the steam room. I counted to myself 1,2,3,4,5, breath, 6,7,8,9,10, breath, etc. And breathed deeply and caught air and was thankful for my lungs and my ability to still breath. I think the anxiety attack was prompted by the fact that I started a rather light period yesterday, and the sight of blood in my underwear brought I kind of terror into my space.

I've been trying hard to process all of what has happened to me and k in the last many months and still i have no solid answers. I am learning that answers are not necessarily what I need; what I do need is spring and the thawed soil beneath my hands and the sun on my back and face and the warmer rains that make green things grow.

I am also learning that while miscarriage is not very well formally documented/written about, what is out there is out there for heterosexual women. Damn, there is almost nil on the queer experience of miscarriage. I guess we, who have been through it, are creating it informally through the blog world. And it is not to say that I cannot relate to some of what is out there in terms of straight folks' experiences, but the things that are coming up for me are markedly different from what I have read. However, I have had beautiful conversations and connections with straight friends who have been through the painful process of miscarriage, so I am very lucky to be supported in real time.

In thinking about spring and my need for her to come to me quickly, I ordered a great amount and variety of herbs last week. I went for both trays of plugs and seeds and then some rarer, ready to plant in the ground plants.

I really want to grow a lot of chamomile and coriander this year. I use them both frequently and chamomile essential oil is really pricey. While a may not brew it into essential oil quite yet, I will make infusions of it and the stuff is great for joints (I swear by it).

Anyhow thinking about growing things is what gets me through the days--well that and riding my bike and holding my kk.

My kk, she is so kind to me and so silly and so beautiful. She makes me laugh even when I do not want to laugh. She compels me, in loving kindness, to do things when I would rather stay home and do nothing. For instance, on saturday she prodded me gently to got sit at a bar and drink a beer with her. The beer tasted good, but her company was better and I made a time-line of the miscarriage on a napkin and we talked about life and love and then she prodded me gently to go to a party that I did not want to go to, but I went and I got to sit in front of a warm fire in a Laze-E-boy and talk and it was nice.

I am blessed beyond reason to have her as my love.



8 comments:

starrhillgirl said...

a) nice job with the anxiety attack - I need to remember that technique.

b) oh, god, that list.... bled, bled, bled, and bled. Yep. (I do love a list, though.)
b-2) the crying.... Yep. It got to be less and less for me, but it's still here.

c) thanks for the reminder that spring is coming.

anofferingoflove said...

i cried unexpectedly and uncontrollably for months after my miscarriage. it gets better, but that sadness is always something you will carry with you.

there is a collection of short essays called "about what was lost." it is mostly straight women, but it is an interesting assortment of how people cope/where the go afterwards -- women who get pregnant immediately, women who continue to struggle, women who chose to focus on other things and give up ttc. i found it helpful. "waiting for daisy" is also good (but again, by a straight woman).

heck, maybe we need to organize a lesbian collection of writers on miscarriage! it would give us a nice outlet/voice!

sending you strength.

mrs. bluemont said...

thinking of you and wishing spring here sooner just for you and kk.

lovely new page design.

xo

f said...

i think you're onto something with a queer experience of miscarriage collection. i'm not sure how it could be done - printed, or even a single page with links to people's blog posts. i know we read them through friends blogs, but not everybody reads queer mama-to-be blogs and that could be a good way of collecting them. anyway.

you two are just so right for each other. not everything in the world is right, and especially not now, and especially not for you in the last little while. but you two are, which is a little bit of solace. i love how you write about her and your love - so inspiring in so many ways.

these moments will open up into spring at some point, but this winter will always be carried with you in some small way. but hopefully not a burden - just like a little stone in your pocket, keeping you company.

thinking of you two. and like the new page. has a texture of grief but the promise of spring. xo

birdy.j said...

Maybe start an online place to request submissions on this topic... and then have it published someday in print!

Att said...

I'm so so sorry for your loss, again. I wish I had known that I was losing a baby when I was, then I think I would have been able to handle the long road to recovery. We're here for you, dear.

Kate said...

love you sugar.

qweerblue said...

I love you, Nat, so much. We are all blessed to have you here with us, fighting for the world with such righteous passion. Once in a while, one of our warriors stumbles or is temporarily felled. It is in her falling and getting back up that we witness her grace, and you, my friend, are heavy with it. It is such an immense blessing to witness you in this act of living and loving, and yes, falling and getting back up. It is an honor to know you, my fierce, heart broken, beautiful warrior.