Sarah Ophelia Plaisance
August 5th, 2017
Sarah Ophelia Plaisance was like a shooting star, by the
time you saw her, marveled at her beauty, and made a wish, she was already
gone. For the 17 days that I knew I
carried her, I loved her and was honored to know her, even if most days I
didn’t believe she was there.
I have spoken publicly about my miscarriage of her on
Facebook, but I wanted to put something more permanent down on paper. The date of my last missed period was April
21, although I did have some bleeding for a few days in June. Dr. Hirsh, my OB/GYN believed that her conception
date was in June. Dr. Brown and the ER
told us Sarah had stopped growing at 7 weeks, so his date didn’t line up with
the June date. Jay and I believe that
she was conceived May 5th, so she was a Beltane baby, which would
have made her about 8 ½ weeks old when I miscarried her.
The night of her conception was a lovely night. I had started working on uploading my book
that day, and was feeling fine. My
periods have been coming more regular, since I cut mom out of my life last
year, and so I wondered if I might be fertile.
I kind of counted days and guessed.
Hey it was Beltane, time for love, sex and fertility, right.
That month I began to develop breathing problems in my left
lung. It hurt when I laid down at night,
I could feel something kind of squeak in my lungs, each breath felt like a
rubber band was around me. And I was
exhausted, more tired than I had ever been in my entire life. We hoped at first that it would just go
away. I was facing my own imposed
deadline of trying to be finished with the book by the first of June. I was tired but other than that I felt good,
happy, and my negative thoughts seemed to have stopped. I missed my period in May, but I thought
nothing about it. This often happens
when I am under good or bad stress, no big deal right. The doctors had told me it would take a team
to get me pregnant, and 14 years of unprotected sex, had yet to yield
anything.
My breathing problems continued, as well as pain in my
heart. Of course being a big woman I am
always fearful. After about 6 to 8 weeks
of this exhaustion and breathing problems I decided to risk going to the doctor,
and being told it was nothing. My
regular doctor was out, so I saw a friend of his, who spent I think a sum total
of 3 min with me. Blood work, ex-rays,
and a urine test later, with no pregnancy chaser (cause I told them I could not
get pregnant, I wish now I had, or they had at least asked why), and no
answers. They gave me a steroid and an
antibiotic, and no explanation to my problem.
Two weeks later I came back, with the same problem. I saw my regular PCP and he said, “Well your
heart is a little enlarged. I’d like to
get you in for an echo, and a CAT-scan right now.” That was Friday night, Father’s day weekend. Again I was asked, “Are you pregnant?” I glared at him and told him, “No way.” Again I regret that I didn’t say, “Why the fuck
not,” and have the damn test. Maybe she
wouldn’t be dead; I’ll never know.
I did not want the cost of going in the hospital. So we made appointments to see a cardiologist
for later in the week. When I was asked
what I wanted to do I said, “I want to talk to Jay.” So I went to his office. He said, “You’re going.” So we went and spent 24 lovely hours
there. For the CAT-scan they tried to
put an IV, so they could give me contrast.
I blew all 7 times they tried, had a panic attack in the middle, and
finally they had to do it without it. Nothing there.
I had an Echo. It took a month
for the results to come back and be relayed to me, it was fine. Blood work all normal, and no they didn’t do
a pregnancy test, even though I asked for one.
So Saturday morning the doctor comes in and says, “Well we don’t see
anything on the CAT- Scan, your blood work is fine, you’re heart is not
enlarged, and since your EKG was okay we think your Echo will be too. We don’t know what’s wrong with you.”
Here I was in the same place, in the same hospital, with the
same people I was 10 years before, when I had been given the same
diagnoses. I had pain, and no one knew
why, or really honestly didn’t seem to care.
I was fucking livid! And I told
him about having been checked in to the hospital all those years ago, about my
excruciating pain, and that the doctors said, “Oh it is your hiatal hernia
causing you hip pain, and pain in your vagina.”
(I was later diagnosed with IC and pelvic girdle dysfunction.) This doctor upon hearing this said, “I would
see a GI doctor. It might be your
hernia.” I was so fucking mad, I damn
near threw him out of my room. I turned
away from him, he got the idea and left.
I was so mad I ripped off the heart monitor! Jay had gone to get breakfast for
himself. I was so mad I had to throw
something! So I stripped my bed, his
bed, dirty towels and put everything in the hamper. I packed my stuff, and just waited.
Bobby Joe and Amy, cousins who are more like an Aunt and
Uncle to me, came in about that time to see me, brought me coffee, and I just
cried in Amy’s arms and feel apart. Here
I had spent all this money I didn’t have, to be told, once again, that there
was nothing wrong with me. I asked the
Doctor, “Is it psychosomatic?” He said
no. I had explained to him that being a
crazy, fat woman in the South doctors don’t take me seriously. He had no explanations for my breathing
problems, and seemed honestly like I was just another number and he didn’t
care.
We left there and went to Wal-Mart. Tired of being asked if I was pregnant I
bought a test. I thought, it was be
negative, so I bought a cheap one. They
are always negative, so why waste the money.
Jay and I have this system where I pee on the stick and then give it to
him. He doesn’t tell me anything unless
it is positive. But this day he was at
work when I took it.
I took the test and when the results came back positive I
said, “I can’t be pregnant. I don’t get
pregnant!” I called Jay and said, “Hey
hunny. I just took the test and there is
a plus sign. I’m not sure what to
do. Is that good thing?” He confirmed that it was, and I could hear
joy and shock in his voice.
We were both in shock and hesitant to believe it. We had been through fertility medicine, and
when that failed I was told, “Go home and lose a hundred pounds and it might
happen.” We gave up hope and have
learned to be contented living without children. Several of my childhood friends are now
grandparents.
We were in shock and tried to not be too happy, because we
knew it could be a false positive. We
found an OB/GYN who took high risk clients and when I talked to them on the
phone they said we did not need a blood test to confirm. We told a few friends and family. We had to wait until Jay’s next pay check to
afford the $100 co-pay to see the doctor.
So in the mean time, I read my cards again, and they confirmed it. The Sun card came up again, just as it had in
my reading a few months ago. I called
Mother Mari and asked her to do a reading to confirm my pregnancy. She read my runes and she was told I was
carrying a girl. I knew that already,
but didn’t tell her. I had asked the sex
of the child to my runes, and been told it was a girl too. So we named her Sarah Ophelia. What we had always wanted to name her.
I started a group of letters to her, and wrote often. I fed her regularly, with the best food I
knew to give her. We even began to read
to her. And I rested, which I hated
because I had so much to do. I had
cramps most of the time I was pregnant with her, on my right side.
Some days I believed it, and some days I didn’t. It was too
much for me to comprehend. Even now it
seems like it was all a mistake or a dream, but knowing an impossible thing is
possible, I think changes you. I thought
of her often and then would forget I was pregnant and go back to what I was
trying to do. I worried constantly how
we would feed and clothe her, afford to by her school supplies. I began to read books on pregnancy, and went
to the Thrifty Peanut to buy a few.
Sunday we took Precious for Swimmy day at the lake. It started bleeding Monday. With IC there are times when you can have an
irritant and bleed from your bladder, in fact most of the time I have
microscopic blood in my urine. I thought
I am just having a flare, but by Tuesday I was passing small clots. I believed it was coming from my bladder but
by Tuesday night I could not tell where it was coming from. Wednesday was the big day. Jay took the morning off work to take me to
the OB/GYN. They took me in for an ultra
sound, and I informed them I was having an IC flare and was bleeding. They had never heard of IC. They could not find her with the belly monitor,
so they had to do a vaginal ultra sound.
Now under ideal conditions this is fairly painful for me because of my
IC, but I was in so much pain that I was screaming, and biting my hand, and
Jay’s hand to keep from screaming more.
I just wanted it over with. They
never could get good pictures. I think
because I was jumping around too much.
Finally the tech stopped and said, “I don’t know what to do. This should not hurt her like this.” When I got off the table I nearly collapsed,
but stopped myself. In pain Jay and I
hobbled to the bathroom to put on some clean panties and a fresh kotex. I think I was miscarrying at this point, and
that is why I was in so much pain. My cervix
somehow did not seem right, like it was not as strong as it usually was. I’ve just looked it up, and I wonder if I was
already in early labor at that point.
We went in to visit with Dr. Hirsh, and she confirmed that I
was in fact pregnant. I cried I was so
happy. I showed her my period dates and
she believed that the baby was about 4 weeks.
She wanted me to come back in two weeks and we would do blood tests and
all that good stuff. She was great and I
really liked her. I hope to see her
again at least as an GYN.
On the way home, we called the family and told them we were
confirmed. We asked Kenny and Lucy to be
Godparents, and they agreed. I was so
happy. It was a wonderful few
hours. Jay dropped me at home. There was a lot of blood and I was passing
bigger clots. We didn’t know what was
going on. He looked and said it was
coming out of both. He went back to work
and I tried to rest, but I had problems.
I felt like I was having a period, with cramps that went down into my
legs. I had trouble sitting on my
pelvis, so I laid down. I just could not
get comfortable, so I ended up laying on a pallet on the floor. I called Pam and talked to her about 5 and
told her I was in a lot of pain, and I just wanted someone to talk to. We chatted for a while and then I called
Lucy, and we began to plan my baby shower.
I told her I wanted to do it around Halloween, “A boo for the Boo,” was
going to be our theme. We talked about
my pain and my bleeding and they both soothed my fears that spotting was normal
in the first trimester.
Jay came home and from then till about sunset it seemed to just
get worse. I just could not get comfortable,
I could not stand, or walk without pain.
Finally I ended up leaning. I
keep going back and forth to the bathroom thinking I had to poop, but nothing
came out. And there was just so much
blood. I finally was in so much pain
that I made him call my urologist and then the OB/GYN’s office. They both said to take me to the
hospital. At one point I remember
backing myself into the corner, because of the look on Jay’s face. I started crying saying, “I’m sorry. It will go away. There is nothing wrong with me.” I was terrified of another hospital bill and
that I was miscarrying. He called the
boys at the fire station.
The ambulance came down the road, and out of it came our
friend Paul. I cried, that it was
him. He is such a good man, and damn
good nurse. Before he even opened the
back door of the truck, I was handing him my paperwork with my meds on it, driver’s
license, and insurance card. Jay was
running around behind me packing my bag, tending to the kids, and putting Star
and Henry away. The pain I had been
feeling at that time seemed to be coming in waves and intensifying. At no time, during my entire hospital stay
was I told I was in labor and having labor pains. Even when I asked the nurse again as we were
leaving the ER, “Why am I in pain?!” I
was told they did not know. I had to go
and talk to two nurses after words who confirmed that yes sometimes women who
miscarry, do so with labor pains. My
pain was coming every 10 min or so. Just
this intense wave of pain, then me screaming, and finally it would subside,
long enough for me to feel okay again, and then it started all over again.
I arrived at the hospital screaming my head off. Once in the ER room the stupid doctor comes
up during a contraction and asks, “How are you doing? Are you on any meds?” Paul had already given the nurse my list with
meds on it and all my info. I was in no
capacity to talk and very pissed off at that point. I finally was able to say to him, “She has
the list.” And at last the nurse
confirmed to him that she had a list of all my medications. Jay arrived about that time and I am not sure
about what happened in the next little bit.
I was given a total of 8mg of Morphine.
That shit is awesome. Makes you
feel warm and fuzzy and forget your problems.
Gods no wonder it is so addictive, and it works almost instantly.
I was sent for another ultrasound with much bickering. I told him I had already had one today. He told me he had no access to those records,
which is a lie because it was all done at the same hospital, just a different
branch, and all of their records are tied in together by computer. Thankful this time I was high and it didn’t
hurt that bad. My tech said, “They
couldn’t get clear pictures?” When I
told him no he stifled a laugh. I asked
him what he saw, and he answered, “The doctor will have to tell you.”
Dr. Brown came in about midnight to tell me that, “You have
a UTI and you are miscarrying. Your baby
stopped growing at about 7 weeks and there is no heartbeat.”
I said, “So she’s dead.”
“There is no heartbeat.”
I asked if I would have to have an abortion, and he told me,
“No, you should pass it in the next day or so.
You won’t even know. It’s just a
little clump of cells.”
I asked him, “So I killed her, because I didn’t believe I
was pregnant. My negative energy, and
somehow my body killed her, with too much worry, too much stress.”
He just looked at me confused, and then at Jay who told me,
“No you didn’t kill her.”
I was loaded up with antibiotic and sent home. It least the UTI explained why I was peeing
blood. We stopped to fill our
prescriptions and have a snack. We got
home about 2 in the morning. Jay left
for work a few hours later, but came home early to be with me. That morning I passed something that was
about 6 inches long, and my pain stopped not long after that. In it I could recognize an umbilical cord and
a tiny little right leg, and the rest I couldn’t. It was a mash of cells. I know y’all think I am gross for reaching my
hand in the toilet to retrieve it. But I
could not stand the idea of my daughter’s finally resting place being my septic
tank. I wrapped what I found up in
tissue, and gave Jay a chance to look at her.
Then I wrapped her in pink tuile, circled her with dried flowers and
herbs just as I had so many fur babies before her, folded it all up and tied it
with a black ribbon. I rocked her for a few minutes, sang to her, and
cried. Holding her felt no different to
me then holding any other child. And I
knew in that moment that I really have been a mother for more years then I care
to count. She was just a different
species. And her life was no more and no
less important than my other children. Jay
and I walked out to our little grove and buried her in Holda’s Well. The same place we had buried Punka so many
years before.
I’ve spent the last three weeks or so resting. The first week I bled so much I didn’t know I
had that much blood in me. I made calls
to my PCP and OB/GYN who were sad to hear that I had lost the baby, but unless
I was soaking a pad an hour that I didn’t have to come in. I have not seen a doctor since I was in the
ER. It took a week for all the pain to
go away and two for all the blood to stop.
I have been exhausted, board out of my mind and frustrated for
the last few weeks, until this week when I have finally be able to work a
normal schedule. You clean up after the
dogs, wash clothes, write, do dishes, repeat.
My breathing has returned to normal, and after talking with a nurse
friend of mine, she believed that it was related to the pregnancy. That the baby was putting such strain on me
that it was aggravating my asthma.
I have been very open about the miscarriage and losing
Sarah. I posted on Facebook the morning
after, and received wonderful comments, messages, and phone calls. I think this honestly helped me get through
this. I was struck by the number of
women who opened up and told me about their similar experiences. Making those phone calls to Beau, and my
family were some of the hardest things I have ever had to do. It reminded me of when Momma Muriel
died.
Friday I posted to my yarn group and told them they had all
asked what they could do for me, I said I need hugs. Our attendance had been low lately being that
its summer, so I asked if they would all please come to our regular
meeting. And several of them made a
point to show. It was very healing for
me to sit with them and talk about all of this, and to listen to them tell
their stories of losing their own babies.
I called a cousin who had been through a similar experience. She had delivered an 8 month old
stillborn. She was told she could never have
children. She has PCOS to, and erratic
periods so she thought nothing of missing them for so long. She had no symptoms of pregancy. She told me point blank, “I went to a dark
place after my child died. I will not
let that happen to you. So if you need
to call me and cry and scream, I am here for you.” I think we spent an hour talking on the
phone, and it was wonderful.
Jay has been wonderful through this all. He has been my rock through both hospital
visits, and the grieving process. I have
yet to see him cry though and that worries me.
I think he has just not been doing it in front of me. I am continually asking him, “How are you
doing with all this?” and he says, “Good baby.”
He told me in the ER that night, “I don’t care if we lose the baby. I just can’t lose you.” I told him, “I’m not going anywhere.”
The other day when I cleaned her grave and showed him, he
got a little teared up and sad. I think
now that I am better, he might be able to process all this a little more. That is her grave on the picture above,
circled in white quartz stones.
The cards tell me that another child is imminent, and I hope
so. At least now we know it is possible,
something we didn’t know before. So I am
taking my prenatal vitamins, and doing deep breathing exercises to try to keep
my root and sacral chakras open and cleared.
Preparing to become a vessel for the next child. I told Jay last night, that maybe Sarah came
to open the door and clean me out physical, emotionally and spiritual, to
prepare me for the next time she tries to come into our world. Jay thought it was good that I could look at
it like this. I saw my councilor on
Monday, and shocked as she was about all this news she said, “Ilsa you realize
that if this had happened a year ago, you would have been a basket case.” I agreed. My life is in order now. I am who and where and what I want to be in
this life. It took a long time, and as
hokey as it sounds, I think I am ready now.
Ilsa
