Tuesday, October 9, 2007


I learned a translation of a new word last week Thursday: faux couche. Not exactly something that I had thought I would learn about, but that was out of my control. Wednesday I started bleeding and cramping. Seeing that I was ten and a half weeks pregnant, I knew that the two together was a bad sign. A few times I would finally fall asleep, but would wake soon after as I knew something wasn't right. Until the dream. I had just woken up again and couldn't go back to sleep so I just prayed so desperately for someone to watch over my baby. Minutes later if that, a beautiful angel came and cradled my little girl in her arms. She was so happy to see my sweet little girl and couldn't stop smiling and cooing at her. It was easy to see that this angel had so much love for my little baby and would take care of her. This gave me so much comfort and peace knowing that there was someone watching over my little pea. I thought that everything would be ok and slept like a baby.

It was slow moving in the morning as it often is. Finally took out the tooter at 10:30 and went for a little walk. I still wasn't feeling well. After lunch I couldn't stay awake so I laid down with mon petit fee for a nap. When we awoke, I went to the bathroom and saw the first signs of the false couche, a clot of blood the diameter of a walnut. Even though I had a feeling it was coming, nothing could have prepared me for the amount of grief I had at that moment. I wailed. Mon petit fee stood there, watching me with such concern you would have never known he was two and said to me, "What's the matter, mommy? It's ok."

I cleaned up and sat on the sofa sobbing and sobbing and sobbing. There is nothing like loosing a child, even an unborn one. As I sat on the sofa unable to control my emotions, mon petit fee climbed up, sat down next to me and snuggled with me. He held my hand and gave me a big hug and kiss completely unprompted by me. The compassion and strength coming from my two year old at that moment will I never ever forget.

Realizing that I couldn't sit there forever, we went for a walk. I started to feel better and thought of all the things I could now eat - oysters, sushi, any cheese, basically not worry about the non-pasturized stuff, undercooked meat, and all that. It was so liberating. And yet as I passed by the seafood market, I just could not look at the oysters or I would start sobbing again. My beautiful little girl was gone. Who cares about the damn oysters?

We came home and I expelled more clots. I called my very dear friend who helped me when mon petit fee was born. She had been through three herself and was such comfort to me. When I called the porcellino at work I couldn't even talk. I felt somehow I had let him down, though he never ever made me feel that way. I emailed a few friends and the response I got from everyone was so amazing. All of these people gave me so much strength.

At 10:45 pm, the last piece made its way out. This was the biggest and had a kind of beauty about it. I think it was her. I didn't know what to do with this piece, so I just sat there, holding it on the pad wondering what it really was. In the end I just flushed it down the toilet. I wish I hadn't been so naive and kept it so I could bury her.

It has only been a few days, but I will never be the same. There are certain things in life that take your soul and massage it. Sometimes the massage hurts if it's deep enough, but because of the depth, it releases toxins so you feel so much better afterwards. Last year was a very difficult year. We've been trying hard not to live beyond our means, while still enjoying the things we like to do. It was a big adjustment after I quit my part-time job to stay home with mon petit fee full time. And hormonally things were not right either. But now I feel that this false couche was a way to cleanse my body and help me open up more as I so desperately want to do. So many people who don't even know me that well have given me enormous comfort and support. It seems that all I needed to do was to find the right people who truly truly care. These people, my friends, are like water. They wash away the dirt in your wounds and quench your thirst. So thank you and much love to you my angels, my friends.