emptied.

i told ray i have ennui.  he said that only means boredom in french.  ‘no,’ i said, ‘i have listlessness, with sadness and no interest in anything.  what word means that?’  he said there wasn’t one. 

i’m sad.

and my life isn’t set up for that.  this has been an incredible year.  i’m about to celebrate 7 years of marriage, am loving my class this year, have been healthy, have been able to be innovative in teaching, am learning further contentment in ‘staying put’ in this beautiful tropical country, have been privileged with trips to cambodia and egypt and feel more alive, more aware, more grateful, more love than ever.  and then i had a miscarriage. 

that stopped me in my tracks. 

first of all, doctors told us that i couldn’t get pregnant.  so there was that shock.  there were so many things that overwhelmed me that i just never thought i’d ever have to deal with.  there was so much advice given to me that i only half listened to, knowing i wouldn’t ever use it.  and then came 2 tests that reported The Impossible.  and then came complications that landed me in the emergency room late on a monday night that produced an ultra-sound of a perfect looking embryo and a doctor telling us in halting english that there was a 50% chance of survival for the baby, but if i could get through the next 2 weeks, everything would be just fine.  and even though i was shocked and confused and worried and scared, i still dared to hope.  because i’m terrible at lowering my expectations.  

but i came out on the wrong side of the 50.  by the end of the week, i was back in the emergency room, alone with another ultrasound screen, looking at a failed embryo and a thai doctor who didn’t know what to do with a foreign woman with emotions.  and i was wheeled out of the room (because i looked weak?  because all miscarrying women need wheelchairs?  because?) and the first person i saw was ray and i couldn’t say anything.  i just looked away.  and i was wheeled out to the middle of the hospital to wait for another doctor to interpret the ultrasound and tell us in more ways about the loss.   and i failed at cultural sensitivity; i held my husband’s hand and couldn’t stop the tears.  and all the pregnant women around me looked away, embarrassed, because apparently even crazy hormones don’t make thai women emotional.

i am left feeling so empty.  i didn’t even know i wanted to be filled up with that!  i had made my peace with it all.  we planned to adopt…someday.  and i had more energy and focus and love for my students every day.  i didn’t mourn The Impossible; i did a good job of looking at what i had and saying ‘thank you.’  and then everything changed with a positive result on a test and i reconsidered and reevaluated and recalibrated everything and was filled.  and then i was emptied. 

after last year, i learned about hope in a new way.  i learned that The Impossible can come out of other Impossibles and to hold out for hope.  i don’t look forward in fear or despair.  i know—i believe—beauty comes from ashes. 

but right now i’m still sad.