I really think I am more powerful than I'm
allowing myself to be. My emotions, I am
beginning to believe, are blocking things.
Like maybe even pregnancy.
And now, I think that I'm not going to actually
miscarry until G. gets here. You remember
G. - my husband, the man I love. For those
of you who have tracked our lives through
this blog, you may recall me talking about him.
I feel compelled to explain the reason for
his absence from this blog because he
certainly has not been absent from my life -
other than currently living in Alaska where
I'll move next year to join him.
He has been very upset by this blog, a reaction
I did not ever expect and still don't fully
understand. I guess in a way it is freaky
unusual to talk about your most private
matters - a miscarriage for God's sake -
on the World Wide Web, for all to see.
But I've been in the public eye via the
Web since 1995, publishing my thoughts
and ideas online and riding the sparkly
wave of the Internet boom when it was
still a promising trickle. So I'm used to
exposing myself - so to speak - online for
the world to see.
I know he still does not understand this
compulsion to be public with private
matters but in my mind, I do this first
and foremost to document my experience
for the benefit of others. Yes, I get a
benefit, too, from writing some of this stuff
out, but I can't stop this from happening to
me. Maybe I can stop this from happening
to someone else or give them information
they couldn't get elsewhere or comfort them
in their difficult moments.
In my life, I have learned that living by a mission
is an imperitive and my mission is to inspire
and touch other people through my words.
The power of words.
So G. was mad at me and he says it was
because I was referring to him as G. in
my blog. Well, it is my blog and I felt I could
do anything I wanted and in my own special
logic, I reasoned that in some way I was
preserving his identity and that it was a small
way to continue to be private in some manner.
I felt freer by calling him G. instead of his
In anger, he posted a comment on my blog,
stating his name, telling me he wanted to be
known by his name. I was furious. I felt invaded.
I actually said to him that he "defaced my art" -
my blog being my art. I deleted his comment
and decided I would not refer to him again
in this blog because it is "my blog and about
my life and my feelings and my experiences."
I thought things were okay and I was hoping
he'd read my blog and use the information
in context - maybe gain a little insight into
something I didn't reveal to him in the same
way, put a little extra piece to the picture he
saw through our phone calls and visits. I saw
the blog as a benefit, not as a problem.
But he got angry again. He was now angry
because he wasn't mentioned any more.
He said it sounded like I didn't need him or
want to be with him. He pointed to my comment
about wanting to run away to Mexico and camp
out on the beach. Where was he, he asked.
I tried to explain to him that he was here, with
me, whether or not he was in the blog. The blog
is only 2% of my entire experience, a carefully
selected sliver of my life that is distilled to a
certain essence to explain to the general public
what is happening, why, how, when. It reflects
shimmers of my self, but not my whole self.
It is a tiny piece of my life but not my whole life.
When I was mentioning him, maybe that upped
the reveal to 5% but it was still a fraction of
my whole experience. I carefully selected the
information that was appropriate and right for
that moment. When I wrote about Mexico, I had
to think how to phrase things to eliminate G.
from the statement even though my real wish,
my real dream, was for us to run away together.
He is a part of me, a part of my life, despite our
current geographic separation. But I also told
him again - this is my blog, my life, my experience,
told in the way I want to tell it. It is not about him.
It is not about us. It is about me.
I told him that if I decided to include him again
in the blog that I would do it in my way because
this was my art. And I warned him that if I
decided to bring him back into my blog it would
be on my terms and that I would go through a
lengthy explanation of why he was not in the
blog for a while. And that I would explain it in
This is my world. This is my blog. This is my 2%.
So anyway, this long winded story came out
of me trying to explain that I think that my
emotions are so strong that my body will not
actually miscarry until G. is here. He flies in
overnight and will be here tomorrow morning.
I think this is all just waiting for him so he can
be with me at the most difficult point.
I am trying to get it to start now, though. I have
the D&C looming over my head on Monday
and a pre-op meeting with the doctor tomorrow
I'm almost decided that I will cancel surgery.
I do not want it. I do not need it. I do not think
I can put myself and my body through it. It is
everything that I am against. It is invasive and
not necessary. My body is strong and good at
taking care of things. I do not need my uterus
scraped. I do not need stuff sucked out of me.
Having this hanging over my head is stupid.
This is not how I want to live my life. I have to
be in more control of my health. I know my
body better than my doctor right now. He hasn't
seen me for almost 2 weeks. What does he know
right now about me? Not enough. Not nearly
Worse case scenario? I might get an infection
which could affect my ability to get pregnant again.
Well, I haven't heard any talk of the possibility of
dying from this. I'll have to ask him about it.
If death is not a possible outcome, then I will
live with the consequences of my choices.
Because ultimately, G. and I will have children,
whether through birth or adoption. That will
happen in our lives.
I just don't want to compromise my life and
make choices based on pressure and doctor-induced
fear. The medical community, I know, is full
of crap when it comes to women's health. I'm
in the system right now and even with a good
repro specialist who I like and who is open to
alternative treatments, I can see patterns. I can
see knee jerk reactions that have nothing to do
with empowering the woman, embracing the
feminine, tapping into the emotion to get
to the root of all of this. I am more than this.