Time goes by. We trod through the days. Mother's Day came this year with an extra bit of stank on her slap. I cried as usual and found a bit of solace with my husband on what I'm coming to think of as our "grief couch".
I bitched about how my boobs hurt. I complained how I wish my period would start instead of this two weeks of spotting and cramping. I wondered if I had an infection and that's why I was spotting. Matt finally convinced me to call the doctor and I did the next day.
As suspected the nurse told me to take a pregnancy test and I argued that I couldn't be pregnant. We paid a doctor an obscene amount of money to tell us we weren't going to get pregnant. She told me that I could do it at home or pay for it at the office. So, grudgingly, I took the damn test. And, yes, as you all probably have figured out, I was pregnant.
It had to be wrong. I peed on four sticks and they all showed that coveted double line. I crumpled to the floor, staring at the worn grout around the tub as if it would offer me some clarity. My mouth hung slack and one of the cats pooled into my lap at some point.
My ringing phone brought me crashing into the present...well, sort of. I mumbled a hello to my mother and she asked me what was wrong. Apparently I was sobbing and my words were slurred and incoherent. I gasped out the words. "Mom, I'm pregnant." She screamed while I remained in my confused fog. I'm pretty sure there was a conversation but I have no idea what it could have consisted of. I wasn't there in any way but body.
Fuckin' A. I was pregnant. I had reached the glorious station of having a positive pee stick and got to take victory laps with it, waving it widely while fire works burst and a jumbo-tron blinked my name in bright pink lights! I don't know why they would be pink, but they would be. And my name would be registered in some secret gold book that only other mommies knew about. I would no longer be without sticky windows and sharp toys on my floor! No! I would be among the proud who have sprained an ankle after hopping up and down on one foot! Those Barbie shoes are pointy after all! I too would have vomit in my ear and not be sure exactly when it had come to be there.! Oh, yes. I would join this coveted club. I was going to be a mommy. And cue sappy music.
I was considered high risk because of our long background with infertility. This secretly pleased me. I wanted the comfort of being monitored a little closer. And so there was blood work. Oh, the blood work. I waited dutifully for the calls to come and I would chart my hCG numbers on my little wipe board next to my desk. I would be that model pregnant person who never missed an appointment, blah, blah, blah.
Apparently these hCG numbers are supposed to double over the span of 48 hours and of course, ours did not. The office tried to keep us calm but by the Friday of the first week we had our first ultrasound that they were really quite insistent that we needed to have the imaging done that day, so obviously they were concerned. So our US showed us a gestational sac but no fetus and that was supposed to be okay because these hCG levels hadn't reached 10,000 yet. So, we were scheduled to have another US on Monday. Our numbers were sure to reach the 10,000 mark. At this 10,000 mark a heart beat should be able to be heard and we could get baby's first picture.
There was no fetus.
Matt stroked my hair back and held my hand as we stared at the empty nest our baby should have been resting in. Instead there was... was just nothing. Vacant. And from that moment my whole body felt empty.
I turned my head away from the big screen TV and into Matt's hand and cried rivers. Matt bent his head to my hair and kissed it, and added his tears to the oncoming flood.
The nurse and doctor said some words, but we offered none. Nodding seemed to be all we had to give. At home we cried and we held each other in stunned silence. Our world had once again been tainted, touched by the black finger of grief.
That night I started to bleed. I stared in shock at the proof of my pain and feared what I would find. The physical pain came right after like a cart behind a horse. My body twisted and ached, and I cried. I took the Vicodin and I stared dry eyed at my vacant belly. Our little miracle gone. Taken away. We weren't worthy of this gift, so it was rescinded.
While I curled my body around the pain, Matt was left to suffer his own alone. He hadn't told many people about our unexpected pregnancy and so was left with next to no one to talk to about it. Only now can I begin to fathom what it must have been like.
What We Fight and Struggle For
Our frozen pizza to be placed in someone elses funcioning oven: One of the saddest fail.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Friday, June 17, 2011
Welcome to Hell! : A Father's Day Special
"Welcome! Welcome All! I see we have a few new faces in the crowd. Keep close and you'll pick up the routine quickly." Beelzebub clapped his hands together and grinned out at the shell shocked faces of the newbies. "For all who don't know, I'm Beelzebub. I know, I know. I'm famous. We'll save the autographs for later. I'm sort of Satan's Sargent at arms so to speak but also the Tour director." He gushed. The crowed mostly consisted of men who looked down right miserable. Their eyes darted around the cavernous room and they shifted their weight from foot to foot, wary. "Now for all you who fail to reproduce this will become an annual celebration, much like a prostate exam." He said excitedly. "Oh, wait! There's an idea for next year!" He quickly jotted a note on his ever present clipboard. The men groaned. "Now this year we decided to go with a throw back. A real classic." His eyes sparkled as he waved a hand grandly.
Out strolled to of the largest beings anyone had ever seen, real or imagined. "These are two of the more famous giants we have on staff. They've taken a break from their normal duties of menacing to be with us here today!" Beelzebub high-fived the nearest of the two. "This here is Grendel and this fine beast I'm not sure needs introductions." The men nodded with their mouths agape. They couldn't take their eyes of that single eye. Cyclops.
"Now if you could all form two lines in front of each giant, we will get things moving."
"You haven't told us what's going to happen yet." A voice called from the back.
"Oh, dear me. Y'all just must be shaking under the anticipation."
"We aren't getting navel rings like last year are we? I think mine's infected." Another man called.
"Navel rings? Why navel rings?" His neighbor asked perplexed.
"We had a choice between this," he lifted his shirt to show the guy his Playboy bunny piercing, "or a star and moon tattoo around the belly button. I chose this thing thinking I could take it out." He shuddered and shook his head sadly.
"I went with the circling dolphins." Another man added. "I think I should have gone with the celestial one instead. I feel like the dolphins are always looking at me."
"Why girly piercings and tattoos?"
"To emasculate." The men said in unison.
"Like I said, today we went with an old classic. Quick and painful. We're having a good old fashion Ball Kick!" Beelzebub giggled and hopped in place. A collective gasp and wince went up from the crowd. They all seemed to hunch over their manly bits protectively. "Now, now, it can't be that bad. Granted I was never a human male, but still. Suck it up boys!" He called a little disgusted. "All of you in Cyclops's line might have to be a little patient and understanding." He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. "I mean he only has one eye. His aim is not the best." He added a deprecating shrug. "Hey! I saw that! No line switching!" He yelled. "How do you think that makes him feel." He moved down the line. "Insensitive bastards." He muttered. "Now let's begin."
Beelzebub waved his arms as if conducting an orchestra and the first round of men began their screaming, gasping and the inevitable moaning. Each man was ushered aside clutching his now devastated man parts. Some wretched and wept. "Drama queens." Beelzebub rolled his eyes.
"Come grab your complimentary bag of ice. I'm not walking all over Hell's half acre to hand them out." He laughed. "That's funny on so many different levels. As if we could get away with a half acre!" He hooted.
"My bag's just water. And...and it's warm." A man groaned, clutching himself.
"Oh, honey, you're not too bright are ya. Maybe you ought not spread whatever backwoods breeding you got going on." He waved a dramatic hand at the crumpled fellow. The man just stared back blankly. Beelzebub sighed and crouched down next to him. "This is Hell. It's hot. Nothing can stay frozen. Ever heard of 'a snowball's chance in Hell' or 'when Hell freezes over'?" He spoke with exaggerated slowness. "No? My we are simple aren't we? People say those things because they are impossible honey. They can't happen because it's hot." He stood. "Now take your ice," he said with quote fingers, "and be quiet. Make tea or something."
Beelzebub walked on, monitoring the progress. Occasionally he would wince and offer two bags of water to a man who looked like he'd taken a more brutal blow or holler out to the giants, "I said no stomping! Our insurance won't cover that kind of damage!"
When all men lay sufficiently disabled and disheartened, Beelzebub offered his final good byes. "It's been just lovely to see you all again." He clasped his hands in front of him and then wiped a small tear. "Oh, look at me blubbering away like an Atheist. I hate goodbyes. A whole year before I see some of you again. Well, to all of you," he threw up his hands, "Happy Father's Day bitches!" He looked up and frowned. "There was supposed to be confetti." He stomped his foot. "Where the Hell is my freaking confetti!" He stormed off in a huff muttering how nothing ever worked right in this God forsaken place.
Out strolled to of the largest beings anyone had ever seen, real or imagined. "These are two of the more famous giants we have on staff. They've taken a break from their normal duties of menacing to be with us here today!" Beelzebub high-fived the nearest of the two. "This here is Grendel and this fine beast I'm not sure needs introductions." The men nodded with their mouths agape. They couldn't take their eyes of that single eye. Cyclops.
"Now if you could all form two lines in front of each giant, we will get things moving."
"You haven't told us what's going to happen yet." A voice called from the back.
"Oh, dear me. Y'all just must be shaking under the anticipation."
"We aren't getting navel rings like last year are we? I think mine's infected." Another man called.
"Navel rings? Why navel rings?" His neighbor asked perplexed.
"We had a choice between this," he lifted his shirt to show the guy his Playboy bunny piercing, "or a star and moon tattoo around the belly button. I chose this thing thinking I could take it out." He shuddered and shook his head sadly.
"I went with the circling dolphins." Another man added. "I think I should have gone with the celestial one instead. I feel like the dolphins are always looking at me."
"Why girly piercings and tattoos?"
"To emasculate." The men said in unison.
"Like I said, today we went with an old classic. Quick and painful. We're having a good old fashion Ball Kick!" Beelzebub giggled and hopped in place. A collective gasp and wince went up from the crowd. They all seemed to hunch over their manly bits protectively. "Now, now, it can't be that bad. Granted I was never a human male, but still. Suck it up boys!" He called a little disgusted. "All of you in Cyclops's line might have to be a little patient and understanding." He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. "I mean he only has one eye. His aim is not the best." He added a deprecating shrug. "Hey! I saw that! No line switching!" He yelled. "How do you think that makes him feel." He moved down the line. "Insensitive bastards." He muttered. "Now let's begin."
Beelzebub waved his arms as if conducting an orchestra and the first round of men began their screaming, gasping and the inevitable moaning. Each man was ushered aside clutching his now devastated man parts. Some wretched and wept. "Drama queens." Beelzebub rolled his eyes.
"Come grab your complimentary bag of ice. I'm not walking all over Hell's half acre to hand them out." He laughed. "That's funny on so many different levels. As if we could get away with a half acre!" He hooted.
"My bag's just water. And...and it's warm." A man groaned, clutching himself.
"Oh, honey, you're not too bright are ya. Maybe you ought not spread whatever backwoods breeding you got going on." He waved a dramatic hand at the crumpled fellow. The man just stared back blankly. Beelzebub sighed and crouched down next to him. "This is Hell. It's hot. Nothing can stay frozen. Ever heard of 'a snowball's chance in Hell' or 'when Hell freezes over'?" He spoke with exaggerated slowness. "No? My we are simple aren't we? People say those things because they are impossible honey. They can't happen because it's hot." He stood. "Now take your ice," he said with quote fingers, "and be quiet. Make tea or something."
Beelzebub walked on, monitoring the progress. Occasionally he would wince and offer two bags of water to a man who looked like he'd taken a more brutal blow or holler out to the giants, "I said no stomping! Our insurance won't cover that kind of damage!"
When all men lay sufficiently disabled and disheartened, Beelzebub offered his final good byes. "It's been just lovely to see you all again." He clasped his hands in front of him and then wiped a small tear. "Oh, look at me blubbering away like an Atheist. I hate goodbyes. A whole year before I see some of you again. Well, to all of you," he threw up his hands, "Happy Father's Day bitches!" He looked up and frowned. "There was supposed to be confetti." He stomped his foot. "Where the Hell is my freaking confetti!" He stormed off in a huff muttering how nothing ever worked right in this God forsaken place.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
The Bad, the Worse, and the Wine Aisle
Not to toot my own horn, but I've become pretty skilled at sniffing out the baby free zone on Breeders' Day Out. I know, I'm pretty amazing. Please, Please, no applause is necessary. There is a subtle trick that needs to be done before this honing skill kicks in. It's the lovely duo of sweat and crazy-eyed panic! Here's one outing in particular that show's my skill.
One day I awoke to oddly rested and without the always shocking knowledge of some Ambien eating that occurred mid-night. Today I was going to be productive. Yes, productive! When my husband came home, the house would be clean, groceries put away, and an amazing meal ready and waiting! What a day of virtue this would be!
Everything started off well, the house got cleaned in less time than it usually takes and I only thought about burning it down once. I had even remembered to eat lunch. Virtue I say!
And so it was time to leave the house. Three stops, placed very close together. Salon Source (a beauty supply store for cosmetologists), Cost Co, and Meijer. This wouldn't be bad at all. Maybe I'd treat myself to a new nail color while I was there, something feisty like "I'm not your bitch pink" or "I look good in hooker red".
Salon Source began well enough. I worked my way back to the Redkin color rack and studied the colors when I overheard this conversation:
"Oh Sara you look so cute! How far along are you now?" the clerk asked
"7 months. It's hell. I can't sleep and this kid won't stop moving. But Tyler here is excited to have another sibling." Sara whined
"How old are you now Tyler?" the clerk with sacrine sweetness.
"Two" he babbled
"I see your pregnant too. Let's compare belly sizes so that girl with the reddening face and bulging eyes head might pop off."
Okay so maybe the conversation didn't go just like that but it was fairly close minus their malice. But I stood in the back of that store with little to no cover, grasping some hair product like a talisman and shook. I knew a full fledged panic attack was on the way. I felt it suck away my breath and crush my chest. I couldn't draw in breath, relief, nothing. The icy sweat pearled up on my forehead and down my back. My body burned with heat that wouldn't release into the air. I felt rooted to the ground.
I finally choked in a breath, it made an awful noise but I felt suddenly able to move. I threw down what ever I had been holding and ran to my car at full speed. Once in the car I gripped my steering wheal as though I was going to rip it off and wailed like a banshie. After my voice grew horse, I realized the window was down. Sonofabitch. Pulling myself together, though my head throbbed, I quietly started the car, adjusted the mirror and drove the short ways to Cost Co.
Once entering the store I knew this was going to be as big of a disaster as the supply store but I couldn't flake out. We needed toilet paper, kitty litter, and Matt needed Prilosec. I could do this, I had to do this. And then I had a great idea and that idea was the wonderfulness of Ativan. Yes, my sweet, sweet Ativan. I almost never need it but when I do, I don't hesitate. I'm not one to get loopy on meds, sadly. I never felt high or whatever when I was on Vicodin. It just helped the pain and so would the Ativan. I looked through my messenger bag and nearly roared when I came up empty.
I could do this. Just get what I need and get the hell out. My list of items became a lunatic's mantra. TP, litter, Prilosec I would chant in my head over and over as cherub cheeked baby's slept in their carriers or blew snot bubbles. The toddlers teetered along next to their parent in their silly drunk walk. TP, litter, Prilosec. The heat flushed and I began to move a little faster than socially acceptable and received many a glare from employees and I'm pretty sure I caught a gnarled middle finger from some pissed senior citizen. Fuck it. I got what I needed as my hands shook so bad it look like I was going through the DT's and sweat dripped down my spine and between my breasts. All I could think about was the safety of home but it was just one more place and I wouldn't have time to go for another week!
As I got back into the car, I continued to waffle over the grocery store, easily the worst errand on the best of days. I had to go. Maybe I could treat myself to something. Yes, a treat! Something from the bakery! A doughnut or two! Yes! And so I drove towards the mecca of misery. Meijer.
When I entered those automatic doors and gathered my cart I knew I had made the wrong decision. A young mother was strapping in a plump little boy wearing a Detroit Tigers jersey. He looked like what I imagined our child would look like. Olive skin, my husbands thick dark hair and chocolate eyes, my nose, and his daddy's thumb-print chin. My stomach suddenly clenched and my eyes pricked with the tears I held back. I made a bee line for the bakery and selected three doughnuts without much joy. I wanted to throw something. My teeth clenched to the point of pain.
I continued on grabbing shortbread cookies and Nutella as I roamed. Neither item was on my list but I couldn't seem to recall any thing that was on the list.
Everywhere I looked, everywhere, there was someone pregnant, a new born or a toddler. I hurt. The knot in my stomach tightened. I gasped. I needed to find a safe place to have the breakdown that was surely coming. With my cart acting like Mose's staff the people parted for this crazy person. I found myself in the wine aisle! Yes! A breeder free zone had been found. I stood up. I smiled in pride and promptly balled all over my Lorna Dune's cookies.
My fingers fumbled over the cheery yellow box grabbing at the cookies and shoveling them into my mouth. My eyes fell on the tub of Nutella next and I ripped into it and dunked my cookies into its creamy goodness. I continued stuffing my mouth with the cookies and Nutella. I thick cement like past formed in my mouth and I could barely swallow. I stood there masticating like a cow, the tears thinning to a slower trickle now. I couldn't really sob with how full my mouth was. My nose ran incessantly offering no mercy to an already beaten appearance.
I looked up to see a stock boy standing a little way down the aisle. He stood frozen as though he didn't want to frighten the beast. You could see he wanted to say or ask something but just didn't know what.
"I've had a bad day." The words were so garbled that they were incoherent. I sighed and it sprayed some cookie matter all over my bag. I worked on swallowing the rest of the paste and then I looked at my haven and smiled. Wine. My soul sighed a little in relief. I began grabbing up bottles. I didn't know what half of them were, all I knew is that I need them.
I resigned myself to the fact that this was a mistake but I had to pay for the cookies and Nutella so I had to conquor the check out. Taking deep prepitory breathes I gripped the cart and charged! I actually saw people grabbing up their children out of the way like that lone child who's almost going to get trampled by the on coming horses in Western's. People leaped away from me and my battering ram of a cart. I would take no prisoners on this day. The week would fall in my wake.
The cashier didn't speak to me. He didn't mention the opened cookies or Nutella or the $300 worth of wine I had just purchased. He just stared at my chocolate smeared face and red, puffy eyes. At that point, really, what is there to say?
I loaded my car up and drew out a bottle of wine. I clutched it close as I sat in my now hot car. I just held it. I rested my cheek upon the cap and I cried. I cried all the way home. I left the car in the driveway and all its newly acquired contents and lay out on the couch. I cried until I had nothing left in me except for a whole lot of hurt. Every inch of me felt raw. I wasn't just in pain, I felt I was pain, that that is all I was. That was my existence in those moments. I had nothing of me left. Just pain. Virtue could kiss my ass.
I hate those moments. Perspective and rationality don't exists. Joy doesn't exists. You're almost catatonic in your grief. Slowly reason comes back like a balm but with it it brings shame for your behavior. Then you find the light spots like being thrilled you didn't vomit in the store let alone choke on rich confections. It's a bit like reliving the oh what did I do last night when I was piss drunk? Eventually some humor comes back as long as you didn't hurt anyone.
I wish I could say that this was my last major moment like this but those other have yet to become amusing. Now their at the simply pathetic stage.
One day I awoke to oddly rested and without the always shocking knowledge of some Ambien eating that occurred mid-night. Today I was going to be productive. Yes, productive! When my husband came home, the house would be clean, groceries put away, and an amazing meal ready and waiting! What a day of virtue this would be!
Everything started off well, the house got cleaned in less time than it usually takes and I only thought about burning it down once. I had even remembered to eat lunch. Virtue I say!
And so it was time to leave the house. Three stops, placed very close together. Salon Source (a beauty supply store for cosmetologists), Cost Co, and Meijer. This wouldn't be bad at all. Maybe I'd treat myself to a new nail color while I was there, something feisty like "I'm not your bitch pink" or "I look good in hooker red".
Salon Source began well enough. I worked my way back to the Redkin color rack and studied the colors when I overheard this conversation:
"Oh Sara you look so cute! How far along are you now?" the clerk asked
"7 months. It's hell. I can't sleep and this kid won't stop moving. But Tyler here is excited to have another sibling." Sara whined
"How old are you now Tyler?" the clerk with sacrine sweetness.
"Two" he babbled
"I see your pregnant too. Let's compare belly sizes so that girl with the reddening face and bulging eyes head might pop off."
Okay so maybe the conversation didn't go just like that but it was fairly close minus their malice. But I stood in the back of that store with little to no cover, grasping some hair product like a talisman and shook. I knew a full fledged panic attack was on the way. I felt it suck away my breath and crush my chest. I couldn't draw in breath, relief, nothing. The icy sweat pearled up on my forehead and down my back. My body burned with heat that wouldn't release into the air. I felt rooted to the ground.
I finally choked in a breath, it made an awful noise but I felt suddenly able to move. I threw down what ever I had been holding and ran to my car at full speed. Once in the car I gripped my steering wheal as though I was going to rip it off and wailed like a banshie. After my voice grew horse, I realized the window was down. Sonofabitch. Pulling myself together, though my head throbbed, I quietly started the car, adjusted the mirror and drove the short ways to Cost Co.
Once entering the store I knew this was going to be as big of a disaster as the supply store but I couldn't flake out. We needed toilet paper, kitty litter, and Matt needed Prilosec. I could do this, I had to do this. And then I had a great idea and that idea was the wonderfulness of Ativan. Yes, my sweet, sweet Ativan. I almost never need it but when I do, I don't hesitate. I'm not one to get loopy on meds, sadly. I never felt high or whatever when I was on Vicodin. It just helped the pain and so would the Ativan. I looked through my messenger bag and nearly roared when I came up empty.
I could do this. Just get what I need and get the hell out. My list of items became a lunatic's mantra. TP, litter, Prilosec I would chant in my head over and over as cherub cheeked baby's slept in their carriers or blew snot bubbles. The toddlers teetered along next to their parent in their silly drunk walk. TP, litter, Prilosec. The heat flushed and I began to move a little faster than socially acceptable and received many a glare from employees and I'm pretty sure I caught a gnarled middle finger from some pissed senior citizen. Fuck it. I got what I needed as my hands shook so bad it look like I was going through the DT's and sweat dripped down my spine and between my breasts. All I could think about was the safety of home but it was just one more place and I wouldn't have time to go for another week!
As I got back into the car, I continued to waffle over the grocery store, easily the worst errand on the best of days. I had to go. Maybe I could treat myself to something. Yes, a treat! Something from the bakery! A doughnut or two! Yes! And so I drove towards the mecca of misery. Meijer.
When I entered those automatic doors and gathered my cart I knew I had made the wrong decision. A young mother was strapping in a plump little boy wearing a Detroit Tigers jersey. He looked like what I imagined our child would look like. Olive skin, my husbands thick dark hair and chocolate eyes, my nose, and his daddy's thumb-print chin. My stomach suddenly clenched and my eyes pricked with the tears I held back. I made a bee line for the bakery and selected three doughnuts without much joy. I wanted to throw something. My teeth clenched to the point of pain.
I continued on grabbing shortbread cookies and Nutella as I roamed. Neither item was on my list but I couldn't seem to recall any thing that was on the list.
Everywhere I looked, everywhere, there was someone pregnant, a new born or a toddler. I hurt. The knot in my stomach tightened. I gasped. I needed to find a safe place to have the breakdown that was surely coming. With my cart acting like Mose's staff the people parted for this crazy person. I found myself in the wine aisle! Yes! A breeder free zone had been found. I stood up. I smiled in pride and promptly balled all over my Lorna Dune's cookies.
My fingers fumbled over the cheery yellow box grabbing at the cookies and shoveling them into my mouth. My eyes fell on the tub of Nutella next and I ripped into it and dunked my cookies into its creamy goodness. I continued stuffing my mouth with the cookies and Nutella. I thick cement like past formed in my mouth and I could barely swallow. I stood there masticating like a cow, the tears thinning to a slower trickle now. I couldn't really sob with how full my mouth was. My nose ran incessantly offering no mercy to an already beaten appearance.
I looked up to see a stock boy standing a little way down the aisle. He stood frozen as though he didn't want to frighten the beast. You could see he wanted to say or ask something but just didn't know what.
"I've had a bad day." The words were so garbled that they were incoherent. I sighed and it sprayed some cookie matter all over my bag. I worked on swallowing the rest of the paste and then I looked at my haven and smiled. Wine. My soul sighed a little in relief. I began grabbing up bottles. I didn't know what half of them were, all I knew is that I need them.
I resigned myself to the fact that this was a mistake but I had to pay for the cookies and Nutella so I had to conquor the check out. Taking deep prepitory breathes I gripped the cart and charged! I actually saw people grabbing up their children out of the way like that lone child who's almost going to get trampled by the on coming horses in Western's. People leaped away from me and my battering ram of a cart. I would take no prisoners on this day. The week would fall in my wake.
The cashier didn't speak to me. He didn't mention the opened cookies or Nutella or the $300 worth of wine I had just purchased. He just stared at my chocolate smeared face and red, puffy eyes. At that point, really, what is there to say?
I loaded my car up and drew out a bottle of wine. I clutched it close as I sat in my now hot car. I just held it. I rested my cheek upon the cap and I cried. I cried all the way home. I left the car in the driveway and all its newly acquired contents and lay out on the couch. I cried until I had nothing left in me except for a whole lot of hurt. Every inch of me felt raw. I wasn't just in pain, I felt I was pain, that that is all I was. That was my existence in those moments. I had nothing of me left. Just pain. Virtue could kiss my ass.
I hate those moments. Perspective and rationality don't exists. Joy doesn't exists. You're almost catatonic in your grief. Slowly reason comes back like a balm but with it it brings shame for your behavior. Then you find the light spots like being thrilled you didn't vomit in the store let alone choke on rich confections. It's a bit like reliving the oh what did I do last night when I was piss drunk? Eventually some humor comes back as long as you didn't hurt anyone.
I wish I could say that this was my last major moment like this but those other have yet to become amusing. Now their at the simply pathetic stage.
Welcom to Hell! A short conversation with Satan and his attentive staff
"Hello! Hello! Welcome to Hell you naughty, naughty humans! I am Beelzebub and I will be your tour guide. Just think of me as your one man party coordinator." He says with a shoulder shimmy.
"Is there actually going to be a party" a doughy man squeaked.
"Oh, yes there's always a little mixer for the newbies and it's pure Hell. You see what I just did there?" He giggled. "You may not have the greatest time since we have a batch up pedophiles coming in in about an hour and with that baby face of yours... well, let's just say keep your back to the wall sweetie." Beelzebub winked. The doughy man swallowed hard.
Mae was still in shock. Mae had all her senses, she had a heart beat for Pete's sake! She was alive, and she was a good person, not like the guy next to her that she recognized from all the Enron coverage. She wanted to raise her hand but was afraid she'd to draw attention to herself and so she sat quietly on polished brimstone chairs with her legs crossed at the ankle and her hands folded properly in her lap, the perfect church lady pose. All she wanted to do was run screaming around the oddly appointed conference room in which a clock ticked loudly but the time never advanced. She wanted to kick and claw at the walls and find away out. She didn't belong here and her heart rate accelerated to the point where it sounded over the whir of the historical slide show Beelzebub was showing. He shot her an irritated look as if her could hear that loud beating tattoo. She shot a nasty look right back not thinking about possible consequences but he wasn't very tall, in fact he was rather slight. She bet she could take him unless he has evil, hellish super powers. He probably does, you don't get to be Satan's right hand man without having a few moves.
"Now, under your seats there will be a little welcome goody bag together for each of you. Something to help you on you transition." He smiled brightly. His teeth looked sharp.
"Um, Sir, there is nothing under my chair." Mae said, trying hard to keep her voice strong in clear even though she felt like vomiting all over the expensive looking rug that lay beneath her feet.
"Oh, Mae dear, I'll have yours once you're done with the big man. He wants a special word with you." He winked.
Mae choked on her response as darkness enveloped her, thrusting her into torrential winds. Suddenly she sat in a very bright, posh office complete with power desk and vanity wall.
"Mae! How lovely to see you?" Satan's voice was high and nasally. He had a stout little frame and Mae couldn't help but think he looked like Jason Allexander.
"No horns." Mae blurted. Great final epitaph Mae, she chided herself.
"'Nah, they're mostly to scare people but I figure you're scared enough and this really isn't damnation situation for you so much as well, an errand, I suppose." He pulled out a large box from a drawer in his lacquered desk.
"An errand?" Mae raised an incredulous brow. She tried to keep up strong offhanded tones but she quickly ruined it all with a, "What?" Confusion twisted her face like panties in a heatwave.
"I have your medications here and all your instructions. Will you need injection training? Beelzebub is one of the best, living or dead. All those years dealing with junkies you know." He said flippantly.
Mae was stupefied. What the hell was going on here? Was she high and this was some drug induced hallucination? No, she would have to actually use drugs for that to be an option. Mae then recognized the label on the box. It was from the specialty pharmacy that she had to use to get her medications for the upcoming fertility treatments. Fuck. Mae shook her head to clear it, and wondered why she was even surprised and then she realized she hadn't answered Satan's query and she doubted he was used to waiting. "No, I'm good. I would just like to get going."
"I'm sure. I bet this is a little overwhelming for you." He waved a stubby fingered hand to encompass the surroundings, "It seems to be for the others. You have been quite calm." He studied her like he was looking for the finest cut of meat as and then opened a drawer in his impressive desk pulling out a bottle of Evian and sipped. He saw her looking and said, "Gotta stay hydrated down here. It's damn hot!" He hooted. "The puns never get old."
"Will I have to come back here?" Mae asked.
"No, but you will feel this place with you more strongly than before. It could consume you, it frequently does." He was so serious that chills ran up her spine. "You will however have to call your specialist office and let them know you have your meds. We aren't affiliated with your doctors office but I do believe we have a close relationship with your insurance carrier." He dragged a stubby finger down a list. "And HSA, correct?"
"Yes."
"Ah, here it is Priority Health HSA, known here as You Are Soo Getting Screwed Over."
"Why am I not surprised."
Satan ushered her to the door and handed her off to Beezlebub. "Take care." Satan said as a parting line. No handshake, no lecherous comment about her soul, just "take care." Odd.
Beezlebub noticed her surprise. "He takes a whole different approach for business since he took over insurance and prescription drug companies. He's trying to be more Trump like. It's not nearly as fun. Anyway, here's your bag of goodies. Go ahead look!"
Mae bobbled the large box of medications to accept the brightly patterned party bag and look inside. There were several boxes of tissues and band aides and strangely a tube of expensive eye cream and a heavy hair conditioning treatment. She held up the last two items with brows raised.
Beezlebub lay a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, honey, I know you feel like hell but there's no reason to look like it." He poked at her under eye bags and with a hand at the small on her back he ushered her threw an exit door that had appeared out of nowhere. "See you later, girlfriend." He called and waved to her enthusiastically.
Mae found herself in familiar surroundings. Her living room she realized. She tried hard to think but all her thoughts circled back to one. What the fuck was that!
"Is there actually going to be a party" a doughy man squeaked.
"Oh, yes there's always a little mixer for the newbies and it's pure Hell. You see what I just did there?" He giggled. "You may not have the greatest time since we have a batch up pedophiles coming in in about an hour and with that baby face of yours... well, let's just say keep your back to the wall sweetie." Beelzebub winked. The doughy man swallowed hard.
Mae was still in shock. Mae had all her senses, she had a heart beat for Pete's sake! She was alive, and she was a good person, not like the guy next to her that she recognized from all the Enron coverage. She wanted to raise her hand but was afraid she'd to draw attention to herself and so she sat quietly on polished brimstone chairs with her legs crossed at the ankle and her hands folded properly in her lap, the perfect church lady pose. All she wanted to do was run screaming around the oddly appointed conference room in which a clock ticked loudly but the time never advanced. She wanted to kick and claw at the walls and find away out. She didn't belong here and her heart rate accelerated to the point where it sounded over the whir of the historical slide show Beelzebub was showing. He shot her an irritated look as if her could hear that loud beating tattoo. She shot a nasty look right back not thinking about possible consequences but he wasn't very tall, in fact he was rather slight. She bet she could take him unless he has evil, hellish super powers. He probably does, you don't get to be Satan's right hand man without having a few moves.
"Now, under your seats there will be a little welcome goody bag together for each of you. Something to help you on you transition." He smiled brightly. His teeth looked sharp.
"Um, Sir, there is nothing under my chair." Mae said, trying hard to keep her voice strong in clear even though she felt like vomiting all over the expensive looking rug that lay beneath her feet.
"Oh, Mae dear, I'll have yours once you're done with the big man. He wants a special word with you." He winked.
Mae choked on her response as darkness enveloped her, thrusting her into torrential winds. Suddenly she sat in a very bright, posh office complete with power desk and vanity wall.
"Mae! How lovely to see you?" Satan's voice was high and nasally. He had a stout little frame and Mae couldn't help but think he looked like Jason Allexander.
"No horns." Mae blurted. Great final epitaph Mae, she chided herself.
"'Nah, they're mostly to scare people but I figure you're scared enough and this really isn't damnation situation for you so much as well, an errand, I suppose." He pulled out a large box from a drawer in his lacquered desk.
"An errand?" Mae raised an incredulous brow. She tried to keep up strong offhanded tones but she quickly ruined it all with a, "What?" Confusion twisted her face like panties in a heatwave.
"I have your medications here and all your instructions. Will you need injection training? Beelzebub is one of the best, living or dead. All those years dealing with junkies you know." He said flippantly.
Mae was stupefied. What the hell was going on here? Was she high and this was some drug induced hallucination? No, she would have to actually use drugs for that to be an option. Mae then recognized the label on the box. It was from the specialty pharmacy that she had to use to get her medications for the upcoming fertility treatments. Fuck. Mae shook her head to clear it, and wondered why she was even surprised and then she realized she hadn't answered Satan's query and she doubted he was used to waiting. "No, I'm good. I would just like to get going."
"I'm sure. I bet this is a little overwhelming for you." He waved a stubby fingered hand to encompass the surroundings, "It seems to be for the others. You have been quite calm." He studied her like he was looking for the finest cut of meat as and then opened a drawer in his impressive desk pulling out a bottle of Evian and sipped. He saw her looking and said, "Gotta stay hydrated down here. It's damn hot!" He hooted. "The puns never get old."
"Will I have to come back here?" Mae asked.
"No, but you will feel this place with you more strongly than before. It could consume you, it frequently does." He was so serious that chills ran up her spine. "You will however have to call your specialist office and let them know you have your meds. We aren't affiliated with your doctors office but I do believe we have a close relationship with your insurance carrier." He dragged a stubby finger down a list. "And HSA, correct?"
"Yes."
"Ah, here it is Priority Health HSA, known here as You Are Soo Getting Screwed Over."
"Why am I not surprised."
Satan ushered her to the door and handed her off to Beezlebub. "Take care." Satan said as a parting line. No handshake, no lecherous comment about her soul, just "take care." Odd.
Beezlebub noticed her surprise. "He takes a whole different approach for business since he took over insurance and prescription drug companies. He's trying to be more Trump like. It's not nearly as fun. Anyway, here's your bag of goodies. Go ahead look!"
Mae bobbled the large box of medications to accept the brightly patterned party bag and look inside. There were several boxes of tissues and band aides and strangely a tube of expensive eye cream and a heavy hair conditioning treatment. She held up the last two items with brows raised.
Beezlebub lay a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, honey, I know you feel like hell but there's no reason to look like it." He poked at her under eye bags and with a hand at the small on her back he ushered her threw an exit door that had appeared out of nowhere. "See you later, girlfriend." He called and waved to her enthusiastically.
Mae found herself in familiar surroundings. Her living room she realized. She tried hard to think but all her thoughts circled back to one. What the fuck was that!
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