Love & other impossible pursuits….

I’ve been MIA. I haven’t written in ages. For many reasons, but mostly because i’ve been grieving.

I lost my child. Our baby died.

There I said it.

My pregnancy had been bumpy since day 1, but knowing how Master and I are, we knew our little mini would be just as big of a pain in the ass as we were. I’ll never forget it. It was a Saturday, Master had gotten home from work not but an hour earlier, when I woke up with a strong pain in my stomach. It wasn’t a cramp like before, this was different. I knew pregnant women had dealt with gas and other digestion issues (TMI, I know…) so I just summed it up to that. He went to get me tylenol and other OTC meds, which I took and felt better after sleeping most of the afternoon. I woke up that evening just fine, no pain and no issues. Around 9-10pm I slowly began to feel those pains again, which began to increase in severity as the night went on. Master and I had a poly couple we know through the community pass through town and stay at our house for the night. I tried to be a good host, however, with the increasing pain I had issues just getting around. I couldn’t even sit. Around midnight, I told Master that I thought something could be seriously wrong. He urged me to go to the ER, however, I could barely move, unable to sit down, let alone drive myself anywhere. I wasn’t about to ask our houseguests who had been driving all day to take me, so Master did. I felt bad I didn’t want to bug or bother, in fact, I protested at one point; But I went anyway. The original plan was he was going to take me, then head back to work until things slowed down a bit. However, that didn’t happen. I was admitted, and moved quickly along the evals. The pain got worse, the seconds dragged on. I remember being curled up in the fetal position, hooked up to an IV drip of pain meds, and they just weren’t working. I felt cold, I felt scared. He held my hand, but my hands were cold. The night was a lot of tests, imaging, this medicine, that doctor, it was all a blur. I barely remember Master’s Sgt coming to be with him. I barely remember the doctor telling me I was dying, as I had suffered a ruptured ectopic pregnancy and was bleeding severely internally. I barely remember signing the form for emergency surgery. I closed my eyes, and woke up to nurses trying to get me to stay awake. My best friend, love and master pleading me to also stay awake, but I was just so tired. I closed my eyes with it being dark outside, and woke up with the sunlight shining in my room. There was friends and family there all with a look of concern. I was groggy, and disoriented, but I knew. I didn’t want to know, but I knew, my baby was gone. I never said it out loud, no one did, but I knew. The following week was a blur of visitations. Balloons and flowers. Condolences. Restless days and nights for Master and I, my mother as well who drove to my side. Awkward silences. Wrong medications. Physical pains and other wounds unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Complication after complication after surgery, I spent a week bedridden. Finally getting home, and i lived on the couch for days, unable to even lay flat on my own bed. Little victories since, I have been able to partly move around and it’s a slow progress, physically anyway.

However, the emotional and mental wounds…. I can’t even begin to explain this…. Pain. This wound.


I am sad. If I don’t think about it, i’m okay, but the second, the very second i do, I can’t stop crying. I don’t need a trigger, I don’t need to be around babies or baby things. Granted, being around them hurts, so deep, like a knife being twisted over and over and over until I can remove myself from that. I feel awful and selfish for being sad. So many have said how they got over it, and I will etc… But, I don’t want to hear it right now. My mother is glad I lived. Apparently I was that close to dying. Master is glad that I lived. I am too, but why didn’t my baby? Why? I’ve since blamed myself, I shouldn’t, but I do. My mistakes have happened, and I’ve been punished. That’s what I deserve. I ruined a marriage. I ruined a life i’m sure. I did something to deserve this.

Then I look at Master. He’s hurting so badly. And it’s my fault. Before me he lived a stress free life, and now look at what he must deal with. I failed at so much, I couldn’t be the woman he needs. I couldn’t be healthy enough to carry our baby. My tubes kept our angel instead of letting it pass through. Our angel was growing beautiful and strong, but I wasn’t big enough. I couldn’t give him what he deserves, I couldn’t do what he needs and I wouldn’t be surprised if he left. Honestly. Not in the least bit. He says he won’t but I expect it. And even that alone, is awful, why am I thinking so horribly of him? Or is it by myself?

I have a few more weeks at home before I have to return to work, regardless, I have zero desire or motivation. There are days like today where I want to stay in the dark, cold silence of my bedroom and either sleep or cry. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want visitors. I barely bother with Facebook or anything. I find myself clinging to Master, he’s my rock right now and at the same time I don’t want to burden him. I already struggle with looking him in the eyes, how could I have failed him so?

The doctors saved my other tube and ovary, so there’s still a chance to try again, but what if I fail again? I felt hollow before, but now…. Now I really do feel so empty inside. I feel robbed. We had hopes. We had dreams. We had a future planned. Now what? We try again. I want to try again, but he doesn’t seem so at times. And so I don’t blame him, I wait for him to leave. To find another who can give him what I couldn’t. It’s what I deserve. I’m not a physical attraction anymore to him. I am not a desire. I am a listless thing who drifts from couch to bed, with moments of clarity between the tears. I am in love with him, but fear and wait for him to leave. I am depressed and sad and I don’t understand why all of this happened. I know his malicious ex is leaping for joy and the instinct to protect my young is still there. I want to rip her life from her throat. But I am the only one who feels that way. So I keep it inside, if only I could do the same with my sadness. So many others handle it better, and are just so much better than I. I failed again, it seems. There are mothers who lost their babies to SIDS or stillborn, and i’m grieving over an ectopic. I’m an asshole for that. My hair is listless, my face is a mess, my body is disgusting, and I’m unable to even find it in myself to be grateful. The hell is wrong with me. I know they say it’s going to take time, but how much time? I don’t want to be sad forever, but right now I can’t see past tomorrow through my tear stained eyes and nose.

There’s a movie I’ve been watching over and over when i’m alone. Cliche’ but fitting. “The Other Woman” (2009) based on the book “love & other impossible pursuits” by Ayelet Waldman.

Read it/ Watch it.

That’s me in a box right now.

I just want to feel like I did before everything, weeks ago. I loved my baby, even if I never got to hold him/her in my arms. I want to feel loved and loving in return. I want to heal. Why can’t I stop crying? Why now?

And what about Master? He’s in so much pain I can see it in his eyes, yet what about him? He needs to grieve, he needs help too, but he can do better at it than I can…. Yet i feel I still need to be the shoulder he needs. I love him, and want to spend forever with him, but i go back to the mental belief that this is what I deserve, and he deserves better. I don’t want to push him away, I only want to bring him closer to me.


I know it’ll get easier, things will get better, we will try and try again.

Until then, i’m grieving. I’m crying.

I miss my baby. I’m sorry my baby. I’m so very, very sorry.