i have debated posting about this for a few months. and i wonder now if i will regret this entry… be in the middle of doing the dishes tonight and have a sudden charge of heart, blow back to my computer in a frenzy, and delete it. maybe. more often than not, this blog is about my kids and my life, and this one event is a part of it, for good or for bad.

i am just going to come out and say it now….

about 2 weeks before i shot my first wedding of the season, i had a miscarriage. and as many of you know this isn’t my first. this is my second. and perhaps the reason i didn’t write about it openly this time was because i didn’t want to expose myself that way right before my first full season as a wedding photographer. and perhaps the reason i didn’t write about it is because, honestly, i just still don’t know how i feel about it.  sad, yes. . angry, yes. but also…something different, and perhaps something wrong. i felt, and continue to be completely….numb.

i can still feel the crisp paper of the doctors examination table, and the draft in the back of the paper johnny. Katie was with me sitting in the chair adult like, but still with a diaper showing through her leggings. she was skimming a picture book like it was a People magazine and humming a tune of her own creation. this was my third trip in to the office in 3 weeks for an ultrasound, my 7th total. they tell you, as long as the numbers rise, you’re fine. you find yourself relying on those hCG numbers like they are stock numbers in a volatile market. they tell you as long as you are sick, you are fine…as long as your breasts are still sore and full, you are fine. but, even that day as i sat there trying to tell those things to myself while i waited for the doctor to get done with her 36th weeker, i knew that wasn’t always the case. i knew because i had had been through this before.

“mrs. burse.” her voice whipped into the office as she closed the door. this was a new office to me. all women doctors or midwifes. all amazing in their experience. i liked it. they a fish tank in their waiting room and a fountain in the lobby, and no receptionist. just nurses and doctors and fish. she sat down on her swivel stool and instantly spun over to Katie child-like and tickled her on the belly. she touched my knee. this was my signal that it was time. i knew because i had been through this before.

she placed the probe on my belly. she looked hard. she pressed and tilted and drove her fingers through my rib cage and pubic bone. no beats. no movement. nothing. she reached out to help me up. the doctor didn’t have tell me, but still, i think this made it more difficult for her in the end. Katie was still thumbing the pages of her book. Mikki had been with me the time i found out with the last miscarriage and this was so eerily like that.

the whole time the doctor was going over the “what to do next” instructions i couldn’t help but concentrate on Katie licking tip of her finger to go the next, crunchy page. i worried about her getting a paper cut. the pages of the Little Red Hen sounded harsh and raw.

“mrs.burse?” the doctor brought me back in. i had heard every word even though i wasn’t listening. i am a mother of two, after all. “D & C. i will have a D & C.” she was waiting for me to cry but i didn’t. i slipped on my jeans. they barely fit. as i sat down in the plastic chair i let out a huge sigh. Katie had turned her attention from the book to the inner workings of my purse. the doctor was prompting me to sign, so i did. when she stepped out of the office for a photocopy i called Mike. it was then that i cried, and when the doctor saw the tears on my face as she re-entered the room she seemed relieved to see them. tears mean that i got it and i did.

yup. i did.

that was the end of may for me and since then i have moved through the days like nothing happened. i didn’t miss a session. i haven’t worn my heart on my sleeve. and when people ask if my husband and i intend on more little ones, i just say the truth. i don’t know. because i don’t. the fear would be overwhelming. i am not sure if i am up for that. i don’t know if i could put my husband, my girls, or myself through that again.

i had planned the tattoos for 3 months, paid the deposit, and waited. 2 weeks ago, i walked into the tattoo studio in downtown Portland with my husband, and as i sat down in the chair i realized that i still wasn’t sad. i waited for the emotion to flood me like a too small boat among too large waves. it didn’t. he did the heart first, the symbol for twins…for both sets that i have lost. the dragonfly lotus stands for rebirth, new light, and joy. and the only thing i felt that day was freedom. i realized that the depression i suffered almost 4 years ago with the first loss was enough, and although i was sad about this second loss, i had been prepared by life experience for it. i had been blessed with a busy, successful summer so i wouldn’t dwell too long in my over thinking, and the happy giggles of the girls playing outside in our own backyard in the early morning wetness of the grass had kept me from going to a place too deep inside myself. and for all of that, i am so, so thankful.

daily mantra: “dreams are illustrations from the book your soul is writing about you.” {marsha.norman}