:: The S.I.C.L.E. Cell ::

my view from the prison of a SICLE (Self-Imposed Child Loss Experience) due to debilitating maternal disease
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:: Saturday, August 27, 2005 ::

I meant what I said
and I said what I meant
and an Ashli is faithful
one hundred percent.

From an email I sent to a dear, rug-burned friend in July:

"1. When my son was born I found these birthstone angels for the Christmas tree. I bought one for each of my children: a ruby, a peridot and a topaz. One day I was sitting in the living room by myself when I heard a "plunk" by the Christmas tree. Something lay on the floor. I went over to pick it up and realized that it was the body of the ruby angel, the one I bought to represent the child I aborted. You know what a D&E is. The angel's head was still attached to the tree. The body detatched from the head. I just stood there looking at it. The other angels were perfect and whole, but Tenny's angel was decapitated. It threw me.

2. I bought a teacup that said "July", the month in which Tenny should have been born. The cup is displayed in the most sentimental room of our house. One day I went to dust it and, upon picking it up, the bottom of the fine bone china simply didn't come with the rest of the cup. It sat on the shelf as if glued while the rest of the cup came away in my hand. The bottom of this teacup literally fell out. There was no reason for this. It had not been dropped, nor glued, nor did it ever have a crack in it. It simply came away. It was no longer whole, but broken in two and ruined. It was and is a mystery.

3. I also had a stork pin that had a baby charm dangling in a silver diaper from the stork's beak. Someone had given it to me as a gift when I announced my initially ecstatic pregnancy. I buried the pin when I buried the bloody socks from the clinic along with the sonogram... all the symbolism that was supposed to help me, sayeth the self help books. It didn't. One night a month or two later I was on my hands and knees in the dark digging it all up with my bare hands. The socks were totally gone, but the sonogram film was still there along with the pin. This pin became precious to me even though I didn't deserve it. It was a little worse for wear from having been buried but it was still kosher enough. One day the baby just fell off and hit the ground. Of course, of course, of course."

The fun that is life after abortion.

:: ashli 9:21 PM # ::

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