Let It Go
*TW: Pregnancy Loss
I’m on my big, cozy couch with my soft, cozy Gloria. Alex is in Las Vegas for a one-off show, and we are soaking up the girl time. The sounds of Frozen coming from the television are captivating a 3-year-old’s attention span; a feat only Frozen can conquer. Our TV sits on our fireplace until we have a professional hang it up above the mantle, and, for now, it feels like the magic of a mini theater in here. I’m part writing, and part with Glo. I’m just rapping here, I have no idea if this will be composed with any modicum of skill or cleverness, but I just wanted to be here, even if it’s only with half of my focus muscle.
I feel a little blank. Not numb, not happy or sad, just neutral ol’ blank. I feel better being blank because yesterday I was a sad mother. The other day, a little blastocyst began to shed from my body. We had a few days of joyous excitement, it felt like a special Christmas present and turned into a chemical pregnancy. I’ve got the guilt feelings, naturally. Guilty for feeling sad before it maybe even became an embryo, guilty for not being able to sustain, guilty for calling out of work because, y’know, society taught me that coworkers should watch you actively miscarry before you call out of work. I know that’s ridiculous. Alas, guilt. But thankfully, when you focus on the intellect, it alleviates the unnecessary feelings that eat away at you. So that’s what I’m doing today.
A miscarriage this early isn’t so gruesome. There are cramps when I lie down, and there’s blood, but it wouldn’t warrant a scene in a movie. It’s not that dramatic. Maybe it’d be a great niche, slice-of-life indie thing, but it’s just an experience of its own. I feel deep gratitude that my body protects me so early on before it turns properly devastating. I have conflicting feelings about it; if I hadn’t gotten multiple positive tests, it might’ve just felt like an unusual, uncomfortable, late period. I don’t know why I judge myself so much, as though I can’t be sad because it was so early. But it’s a weird brand of disappointment that leaves me scared to get excited about any positive pregnancy test I may have again. Most women I know have experienced this. Hell, I’ve experienced this. I know, intellectually, that 1 in 4 is a massive amount of pregnancies to end in miscarriage. I was just having a science experiment going on inside me, and some of those chemical combinations weren’t jiving. I had a week of images of another Alex carbon copy consuming my thoughts, and it was fun, and now I’m just blank for today.
“Do You Want To Build A Snowman” is playing. Anna and Elsa- they remind me of my sister, Alexa, and me. Gloria only wants a sister. She said if I have a boy, “he can be Daddy’s baby.” I told her we don’t get to pick, and that she’ll be a wonderful big sister to any baby. I daydream a lot about a sibling for her. She’ll be remarkable to watch. She’ll be so responsible. She will direct that sibling in her life play, she’ll teach it, she’ll be a small mother.
“Love Is An Open Door”. Gloria and I are trading “With You”s across the couch from each other. What a spirit she is! In her Christmas stocking, Santa will put tickets to see Frozen live at the Saenger Theater in New Orleans. I bought her a beautiful Elsa gown and sparkly blue shoes with long gloves and a cape to wear to the show. It’s already one of the most precious memories, even before it’s happened.
Oh damn. “Let It Go.” It’s on. We’re about to have a belt off, be right back.
Ok, I’m back. We went through a Frozen stage months ago, it briefly went away, and I’m not sad that it’s back in full force. “Let It Go” is my only opportunity to belt my ass off these days like I’m back at a bar in Nashville screaming into a microphone. What a great song for a childhood, that Let It Go.
“Couldn’t keep it in, heaven knows I tried” “Let It Goooooo”…can I make a miscarriage joke if it’s my miscarriage? Anyway, here is my personal business. I am fine, I got a lot of the sadness out, and I’m just soaking up a little bit of space from the running around craziness of my day-to-days. My mother-in-law brought breakfast sandwiches, grits, and a dozen donuts this morning. Dear friends have offered to bring supper. Even though I feel so bad having anyone go out of their way for me, man it feels good to be loved. Something I love about being a human being is our first act of showing love: to feed each other. It’s my first thought whenever something wonderful or sad happens to someone. Fix them a treat, bake them a casserole, Venmo for takeout, share a family recipe, it’s always food. This spans across all cultures around the world. It’s beautiful. And so we’re eating well, we’re as cozy as can be, we’re a thankful family. My first thought was “don’t tell anyone”. I had all the feelings that are in direct conflict with what I know intellectually: “my body is failing me”, “I failed this blastocyst”, “me is woe”, all the shame that feels more natural to hide. We’re the generation of talking about it, though. I feel proud of this contribution my generation has made to society. Everyone talks shit about millennials, but we’re just making an earnest attempt at healing ourselves and our society by breaking it all open. And so here is a little moment in all of my days, for The Morning Gloria Chronicles.
Bless the duality of the feelings I’ve had this weekend. I’ve been feeling profound sadness, and absolute joy simultaneously. The fullness off it has made a mark on my life. I think I will always remember this weekend, the closeness to my Gloria, the eating, the guilt-free TV time. It’s been special.
Gloria has requested Frozen II now, and dogonnit, she can have it. And we’re going to snuggle fully for this one. Good night.