Life

Life really is farked sometimes. Unfair and unjust. Remorseless and pitiless.

For surely there is no God. Or he/she is a just sadistic being with an eye for the brutal and cruel.

So what has bought this on? What has happened to prompt these tidings of ill will toward the universe and its illogical ways? Well, my wife and I suffered a miscarriage last weekend. The second one this year. But this one is hurting so much more than the first.

For we were so excited about this pregnancy and we felt ready for what it would bring. The pregnancy with the first one came to us as a shock and I think both of us were a little concerned about how soon it was to be after the birth of our first child, the much loved son. In a way, we were able to console ourselves at the time that perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps it would have been all too soon. And miscarriages do happen so there was certainly no shame in us having suffered one then.

But this time is different. As I said, we were ready and so overjoyed when we found out we were pregnant again. The quest for our little family was to continue and perhaps be complete. The gap between one and two would be perfect. The birthday would stand alone on the calendar. And my wife wouldn’t have to be heavily pregnant over the hot summer months.

So plans were made for the next nine months while other plans were reassessed and expectations altered. We could do this now but maybe wait for that until later. We should start preparing for this and perhaps think about changing that. But we hadn’t just looked toward the next nine months and all that it might bring. We’d looked toward the entire rest of our lives and couldn’t help but map it all out accordingly.

Alas, come last Saturday morning while Xmas shopping with the son, my wife rang in hysterical tears and eventually managed to say that we needed to get to the hospital urgently. I bundled the son back into the car and swearing profusely I did the five minute trip home in two before running inside to pick my wife up. She was still sobbing in tears and in pain as we rolled out of the driveway bound for the emergency ward.

The rest of the details seem so useless now. The emergency doctors couldn’t confirm anything but said the ‘evidence being presented isn’t good’. The pain for my wife got to fainting-type levels and I looked on helplessly, wishing I could stop it all and remove her from this tragedy. She’s been through so much already. Surely enough was enough. The miscarriage was eventually confirmed and the decision made to undertake the procedure. The procedure to remove the ‘foetal tissue’ as the doctor said. To take away our baby.

Fark! I’m having to do deep breathes as I type this and wipe away the odd bit of tear from my eyes. It’s still so bloody raw. Will it get better? Will we ‘move on’? Isn’t that what you’re meant to do? Go on with your life and put up the façade that everything will be all right?

Wow, what a crap few months it has been. Both friends and family of ours have suffered greatly at times and I‘m again wondering about the nature of man and the nature of the universe. I look down at the newspaper and see 50 asylum seekers feared dead in a ship wreck, including babies and children. The inquest into the abduction of Daniel Morcombe. Another suicide bombing in Baghdad. The world keeps on turning and getting crazier and crazier. More unfair and unjust. More brutal and cruel.

I’m not sure if posting this is appropriate or proper but I felt a need nonetheless. I may well come to regret it and wish I’d been more circumspect. You know, suffered in silence rather than put it down in print for the world to see.

But hey, this is my blog and I’ll write what I bloody well want. I guess as a way of honouring my wife and all she was forced to endure (for a second time). And to honour our little ‘Pip’, the child of ours that will never be.

EDM.