29 March 2012

babies...

a long long time ago, there was a baby beginning for us. there was the shock - i thought we were done! - and then five minutes later, there was the joy - we aren't done! - and then a few weeks later, there was a sharp burst of sadness and a more resolute we. aren't. done.

and then about a year or two later...came esmé.




about a week after i learned i was pregnant with that little thing, i slipped outside of lillie and grae's school. i don't remember much, but i do remember smiling hard and holding grae's mortified hand and walking while gasping to our land cruiser and driving us to the hospital. i limped gracefully in, smiled at the receptionist, and announced that i probably just broke my ankle. and could i please see someone about that, please? or did she have a cast i could throw on and we could just call it a day?

all the omanis in the waiting room covered their mouths and their smiles. dumb american. talk about drama. she thinks she's broken.

one man shook his head when we sat next to him and told me "you're not broken. you would be crying if you were broken."

well. after x-rays, they had to call the orthopedic surgeon. there would be screws and a plate and anesthesia. there were questions about how i had gotten to the hospital. did i have a driver or a husband waiting somewhere?

i told them i had driven myself. the surgeon looked at me and looked at grae and asked "how?" and grae replied "she just kept saying shit shit shit every time she had to shift."

nice moment.

wait. surgery? anesthesia? no no no! i had a brand new baby growing. and this one was the one! there was crying and a mortified grae and then a solution. i would have an epidural. given by a grinning doctor who announced, just prior to inserting the needle, that maybe i should reconsider. "are you sure you want me to do this? he asked. sure, i mumbled, trying to look away from the needle he was waving. "because i'm iraqi," he smiled. "and you're an american."

thank you, george bush.




i'm telling you all this to tell you this. after two surgeries and casts and crutches and showers given by my housemaid and monitored by a mortified grae and many, many months, everything worked out as they should. you know how this story ends.

but what i want to tell a few of my friends who could write the first paragraph in this post is that i feel you. i feel for you.

i spent the nine months of pre-esmé waiting for another miscarriage. one day, i was chatting with one of the other mothers at school and she said "karey! pat told my husband you were pregnant! i didn't know that!"

and i whispered "ohh. yeah. well. it's still a little early. we weren't really going to tell anyone for a while."

and she asked "how far along are you?

"six months."

insane.




but it is, isn't it? it's all insane if you think about it. how things are made. how things break. who fixes the unfixable. who stays and who cannot. it's a heartbreaking tightrope walk every minute of every day. don't look down, don't look up, just fix your eyes straight ahead. there's tomorrow. there's another chance. there's better, there's worse, there's richer and poorer and ice cream for dinner and warm socks fresh from the dryer and sunsets that make you want to stick around to see it come back up again. there will be those shit shit shit moments and a whole lot of mortified.

but then there will be the one day when you finally find what you've been looking for...love or babies or whatever...man, it all just seems to have a way of finding you.

i think that's what i wanted to tell you.

gimme. gimme. gimme.

28 comments:

mary said...

omgggg. xoxoxo

Mary said...

smiling

Ali said...

"it's a heartbreaking tightrope walk every minute of every day" - thank you for that. Beautiful and so very true.

Rachel said...

wow i needed this one today. like NEEDED IT. thank you!!

leigh said...

thank you for this.

i think you just helped stitch up my heart a little.

xo.

Elizabeth said...

I so enjoy reading what you write. I don't even remember how I stumbled across your blog a few years ago, but thought you would like to know that I never left : )

Brandi {not your average ordinary} said...

there are tears. yes to all of it. i know someone who needs to read this, and will be, i'm sure. i've always trusted that things work out, even if we don't know how that will happen or when it will. right now, i'm keeping hope close that there will be love and laughter and babies and a million more nights of stars.

Kelly and Kelly said...

love seeing your magical words here.

Anonymous said...

I lost a little one Friday. You get it. It's the club no one wants to join but the love inside the clubhouse is pretty special.

Simply Mel {Reverie} said...

some of the greatest moments in life appear on the heels of the hardest parts of our journey...it makes us stronger and truly makes those grand prizes all the sweeter.

megan said...

tears right into my soup. i loved this.

Livyb said...

Thank you for this today. Just what I needed to hear.

supreme courtney said...

Oh my god. So good.

Piper of Love said...

your loveliness makes my insides ache

Casey said...

I don't know you, but I wanted to say I read your blog a little and I'm thankful for the way you share beautiful things with me through your words. Thank you.

Missy said...

it's eery almost that you just wrote exactly what I was needing to hear (er, read) at this moment.

krista said...

oh hell. i knew i was too emotional to click on you tonight. three er visits and then an overnight stay at the hospital with our tiny baby. we are home now. and safe. he is here next to me. but i was walking that guitar string with bare feet these last few days. afraid to close my eyes because...well, i was afraid the string was going to break. (i'm still afraid, to tell you the truth.)
sigh.
i don't know what i'm trying to say.
karey, just say it for me. cause you're good like that.

la la Lovely said...

this is good. so good. and def needing ice cream for dinner really soon.

xo friend!

Kim Grey said...

thank you for that. i needed these kind of words... even if i normally don't like to think about it very much.

you are a gift.

elodierose said...

We lost our our baby on Thursday. This was our very first try, and I don't think I've ever wanted to be as good at anything as I wanted to be good at making a person. The timing of this post is scary, but it's a comfort.
I'm young, and I dont know a single other person who's been through this. I was feeling very very alone before I read this.

you write sad beautifully.

Christine... said...

damnit, i just read this...

one of these days i will learn not to read your blogs in mixed company- in the mean time i'll start stocking my office with kleenex.

Estelle Hayes said...

Hot damn, I miss you and your words so much when you go away.

la la Lovely said...

i keep popping over...hoping for some new words...but i know you are just enjoying life, and that makes me smile just as much!
xo . t

ZDub said...

I really needed to read this again today, xoxo.

Also, I love Grae.

Nicole {Coastal Family Living} said...

love every word. particularly the shit shit shit part too. You make the hardest moments seem easier to go through, Now instead of "what would Oprah say" I find myself in moments often thinking "what would Karey say!" You have a way with words and life and making the two go so well together! Cheers and thank you!

Sarah Miller said...

I love this, Karey. I just love this. Thank you.

justsoyouknow said...

Well written words, geez you can be a writer as a profession.

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the lil bee said...

Just needed to see a little of what I've been missing. You always make me feel like I sort of never left. XO