it’s odd, having a reasonable ability to write, to find that i can experience something, feel something, but that does not immediately translate into knowing how to communicate that thing. i doubt i’m going to be able to say what i want to say in a single post. or at least, say it in a single post that i find interesting enough to hit the “publish” button on.

and i’d like to communicate that thing. because while the individual experience of miscarriage is highly personal – no two women, or couples, or triads, or families of any configuration, or what have you, go through it the same way (and as i now know, one woman doesn’t go through it the same way twice) – there’s also a universality of experience. miscarriage is common. one in five pregnancies overall end in miscarriage. in my age bracket, it’s more like one in four. it is not an uncommon thing.

it’s so common, in fact, that most people i know have either experienced it firsthand, or know someone close to them who has. and yet no one talks about it. hell, i’ve gone through two, and i’m still not sure how to talk about it. some days, i’m so divorced from the emotions that it feels like it happened to someone else. other days, the sight of a hugely pregnant woman reduces me to tears.

but how to talk about it? what is the loss? what is the value, the hope, the expectation, that suddenly springs forth when you miss your period or piss on a stick and watch a (+) sign slowly fade in across a plastic window? what are the dreams that are born when you find yourself thinking about everything you should and should not be doing – not for yourself, but for the zygote or embryo or fetal pole that has taken up residence in your body? and what happens to all that when it is, just as suddenly, missing?

as i thought about it, back in May, and then more intensely over the last eight weeks, i realized that to answer any of that for myself, i have to go back to the beginning. the genesis of all this. to a decision i made when i was about three years old: i did not want to have children.

[this is a recovered post from the great data disappearance of 2009. links, comments, and other html may have been lost permanently.]

it’s odd, having a reasonable ability to write, to find that i can experience something, feel something, but that does not immediately translate into knowing how to communicate that thing. i doubt i’m going to be able to say what i want to say in a single post. or at least, say it in a single post that i find interesting enough to hit the “publish” button on.

and i’d like to communicate that thing. because while the individual experience of miscarriage is highly personal – no two women, or couples, or triads, or families of any configuration, or what have you, go through it the same way (and as i now know, one woman doesn’t go through it the same way twice) – there’s also a universality of experience. miscarriage is common. one in five pregnancies overall end in miscarriage. in my age bracket, it’s more like one in four. it is not an uncommon thing.

it’s so common, in fact, that most people i know have either experienced it firsthand, or know someone close to them who has. and yet no one talks about it. hell, i’ve gone through two, and i’m still not sure how to talk about it. some days, i’m so divorced from the emotions that it feels like it happened to someone else. other days, the sight of a hugely pregnant woman reduces me to tears.

but how to talk about it? what is the loss? what is the value, the hope, the expectation, that suddenly springs forth when you miss your period or piss on a stick and watch a (+) sign slowly fade in across a plastic window? what are the dreams that are born when you find yourself thinking about everything you should and should not be doing – not for yourself, but for the zygote or embryo or fetal pole that has taken up residence in your body? and what happens to all that when it is, just as suddenly, missing?

as i thought about it, back in May, and then more intensely over the last eight weeks, i realized that to answer any of that for myself, i have to go back to the beginning. the genesis of all this. to a decision i made when i was about three years old: i did not want to have children.

recovered comments:
One Response a “thinking about miscarriage”

1. Holly Says:
September 28th, 2009 at 12:31 pm

Linda Layne has a good book about pregnancy loss — I think it’s called Motherhood Lost? — if reading this sort of cultural/social/medical anthropology is helpful. (This is what I often turn to for help in how to frame complex thoughts and emotions.) I’ve read excerpts and heard her talk about it at a conference a few years back.

Also, I think that what you’ve written here communicates a lot all ready, and quite eloquently.

[this is a recovered post from the great data disappearance of 2009. links, comments, and other html may have been lost permanently.]

so.

tomorrow morning, before dawn, i head to the hospital for surgery.

i’m having a d&c. it’s my second in four months. for my second miscarriage in four months.

the pregnancies and miscarriages are why my posting has been sporadic since spring, and i’ve been debating whether or not to write about it here. part of my reluctance is because i’ve generally used this space for academic(ish) writing, rather than personal ruminations.

but the other part is this: how do you write about miscarriage? i haven’t yet figured that out completely. i hope to get a handle on it in the next few days and weeks, if only to reach a personal equilibrium. because these last few months have been some of the most emotionally turbulent in my adult life. and right now, i feel nothing, and it isn’t really a welcome change.

[this is a recovered post from the great data disappearance of 2009. links, comments, and other html may have been lost permanently.]

things lately haven’t been terribly conducive to generating my own content, and there’s a good chance i’ll get around to writing about that in the next few days. in the meantime, i’m just going to share this. i’m not a fan of this style of rock & roll, but the message is spot on.

oh, and another interesting link for the rest of the research and health geeks out there: the spread of health behaviors in the framingham heart study social network (LINK TO http://www.hcp.med.harvard.edu/node/2316). researchers mining the data found a totally overlooked nugget: the information to create a complete map of the social connections of the participants, which allowed them to track the dissemination of both disease (of the generally non-contagious variety) and behavior through friend and family networks. the moral of the story – there may be hidden gems in your data. look at it with a fresh eye, if you can.

[this is a recovered post from the great data disappearance of 2009. links, comments, and other html may have been lost permanently.]

i have no words to describe how disturbing i find this – high-heeled crib shoes:

i think i am doubly disturbed because before coming across that site, i was perusing the latest in tendon-atrophying, back-swaying, toe-pinching torture devices from christian louboutin. taken in isolation, i find the louboutin shoes visually interesting – the colors and shapes are striking, and there’s an obvious attention to both design detail and craftsmanship. but they’re essentially fetish wear.

louboutin’s shoes are the most sexualized examples of high heels – a very sexualized item of clothing to begin with – that i’ve seen in a long while. and that’s fine: if adult women want to strap into these and conjure up thoughts of everything from sexual prey to sexual dominants in the eyes of their beholders, so be it. and it’s not just louboutin’s shoes – most high heeled shoes do this, to greater or lesser degrees. but why on earth would we want to transfer those connotations to infants? that’s not “heelarious,” that’s pathological.

recovered comments:
5 Responses a “stockholm syndrome”

1. alejna Says:
July 2nd, 2009 at 1:40 pm

Ugh. That makes me sad. Maybe there are baby fishnets available to go with them.

(My mother-in-law, always the bargain hunter, actually picked up some toddler fishnet stockings on sale for Phoebe. They have stayed in the packaging.)

2. Holly Says:
July 6th, 2009 at 12:19 am

You pretty much nailed that, all of it.

Eeeeeewwwwwww…

3. Cold Spaghetti » Blog Archive » July Just Posts for a Just World Says:
August 7th, 2009 at 2:41 am

[...] laloca of baggage carousel 4 with stockholm syndrome [...]

4. The July Just Posts « collecting tokens Says:
August 7th, 2009 at 2:42 am

[...] laloca of baggage carousel 4 with stockholm syndrome [...]

5. Eva Says:
August 8th, 2009 at 9:27 pm

People are stupid. That’s the only explanation I can think of.

the straight porn industry has managed to fool itself into believing that regular HIV testing by an industry-funded clinic – rather than mandatory condom use – is good enough to keep its performers protected from disease.

as they recently found out, it might be better than no testing at all, but it doesn’t hold a candle to condoms. the companies are blaming the condom-optional policy on the performers.

a much better rundown of the situation – and the stupidity that led to it – is over at sugarbank.

in related news, i see that lifestyles is now marketing a polyisoprene condom. there’s a review (6 months old) over at the condomunity.

clarence thomas wants you to know that you should hide your drugs in your underwear, because there’s no way that the school will have the balls to look for them there!

(in an amazing twist of logic, thomas wrote,

“Redding would not have been the first person to conceal pills in her undergarments,” he said. “Nor will she be the last after today’s decision, which announces the safest place to secrete contraband in school.”

which might make some sense if redding actually had concealed anything in her underwear… but she hadn’t. thomas thinks it’s okay to abuse children because of what they might do. nice.)

the fourth circuit court of appeals has upheld virginia’s (previously overturned) “Partial Birth Infanticide Act,” which apparently criminalized a specific abortion method.

although it isn’t clear to the layperson (read: me) which procedure was banned, the wp describes this:

Although the Virginia law permits women to choose various abortion procedures, it specifically makes it a crime for doctors to perform a rare midterm abortion that involves partially delivering the fetus before crushing its skull to ease removal.

i haven’t yet had a chance to read the opinion myself, but the post’s coverage indicates that the majority’s opinion essentially reasoned that doctors’ criminal liability for performing this type of procedure is so unlikely that the fact of the criminal liability isn’t enough to invalidate the law.

the entire purpose of the law is to criminalize that abortion procedure. if it’s exceedingly unlikely to fulfill its purpose, the law is unnecessary legal accretion and has no reason to be cluttering up the books. taking the majority’s assertion (as interpreted by the post; as i mentioned, i haven’t yet read the opinion) at face value, if doctors are unlikely to actually face criminal prosecution for performing the procedure, and yet there’s substantial pressure to retain the law, there must be some other reason driving the decision.

hmmm. i wonder what it could be.

abortion opponents are apparently very willing to criminalize doctors’ therapeutic decisions. they seem to ignore the fact that if the doctor is committing a crime, then the woman is an accessory to the crime, and guilty of conspiracy as well. abortion opponents should be honest about their intent, and attempt to hold the woman criminally responsible as well. let’s see how far legislative efforts would go then.