Rewind: Mostly Bitter, A Little Bit Sweet

A recent experience reminded me of this story...

In the Spring of 2003 we found out we were pregnant. We were thrilled beyond words and pleased that we only had to "try" for a few months. Our timing was perfect. We had just signed papers on our first home. Our move-in date was less than two months away. One room was already painted blue, and the other a light lavender. No matter what the gender, we were ready!
At my 8 week appointment, my doctor said my uterus was measuring big. She said there could be several explanations for this: a full bladder (nope), gas (not that I could tell), a miscalculation of my last period (not likely), or maybe even twins. She decided to do an ultrasound the next day to see about the latter and I spent the rest of the evening trying not to get my hopes up that there were two buns baking in my oven.

The next day we went to the ultrasound bright and early in the morning with VHS tape in hand, ready to get the blessed moment recorded for our posterity. We were only a few minutes into the ultrasound when we could tell something was wrong.

"I can't see anything, " said the doctor. "There is a sac here, but nothing is in it."

My heart sank. The tears were immediate. This happened to other people. Not me. I was in denial. "Are you sure?" I kept asking.

They took my bloodwork that day and told me that they would compare it with the bloodwork from the day before. If my hormone levels weren't rising as they should, it would confirm what they already pretty much knew.

We went to work the next day as usual. It was a Thursday. The clock seemed to be moving in slow motion. I couldn't think. I couldn't focus on anything. My ability to concentrate was non-existant. Near the end of the day, the call finally came. It wasn't good. My numbers had gone down. I was having a miscarriage.

Little did I know then that this was only the beginning of my fertility problems. It took two over two more years to have Gwen and then sweet little Fiona came almost 4 years later. But, those are stories for another day.

Anyway, back to the dreaded phone call...

I immediately called Rick who worked just a few floors above me in the same building and told him the news. His co-workers would later tell me that they immediately knew the results without having to ask. When he hung up, he buried his face in his hands and tried without sucess to hold back the tears.

Within minutes, he was downstairs in my office and we went home.

The next day neither of us felt like going to work. We called in sick and decided to go to the zoo. Why we chose the zoo, I really don't know.

On the way, I asked Rick to take a small detour to drive my my good friend, Dave Matthews house. Yes, you heard me. Dave Matthews, the frontman of the Dave Matthews Band. You didn't think the story was headed this direction, did you?

I'm going to be honest here. I have a slight crush on Mr. Matthews. While Rick and I were still newlyweds, we happened to come across his house by some small miracle. Since then, I stalked him whenever the occasion would arise. Not even the heartbreak of a miscarriage was going to stop me from driving past his house, and gazing longingly out the passenger window in hopes for glimpse of him. Pathetic, I know. Only this time, it played out a little differently.

As we drove by his house, there was a taxicab in the driveway waiting- waiting for somebody to get in it. Could that somebody be Dave Matthews himself? I told Rick to find a place to park, and quick, but there wasn't anything close by.

Knowing we were working with a deadline, Rick told me to get out of the car and he would park and come find me. Without argument, I got out, took a deep breath, and began strolling up the street towards his house, trying my best to look like somebody out for a midday walk.

When I was about one house away, a devilishly handsome man emerged from Dave's house with an armful of flattened cardboard boxes. It was him. He walked towards the curb to his recycling container, opened it up, and started putting the boxes in.

As I got closer, I realized he was talking. To me, to himself, to the voices in his head, I don't know. As I approached him, he said, "Anybody need some boxes?"

I responded, "Sure, I'll take some. We're moving in a few weeks."

He started rummaging through a pile of boxes that were still leaning against the recycle bin, trying to find ones most suitable for moving. During this time, taxicab driver was leaning out his window, staring at Dave, no doubt waiting for him to get in.

After a while I started feeling uncomfortable with the time he was taking to find me the perfect box. After giving me one and continuing his search I said, "Don't worry, this is fine. This is plenty. Thank you!"

He stood up and looked me in the eyes and and handed me one more box. He said something along the lines of "you're welcome". As I reached out for the box, he took my hand with his other hand. At this point, my memory gets fuzzy.

I then said (I think), "I heard a rumor that you lived around here, but I didn't really think it was true."

"It's not true" he said, with a twinkle in his eye...and then he winked at me.

Then rubbing/caressing my hand that was still in his. He said, "I'm sorry, I have to go."

Just then a younger woman came out of the house (not his wife- the nanny maybe?) and said something to him that I couldn't hear. He turned to her and said, "Sorry, Alex.", got in the cab, and left.

At one point in our conversation, Rick had arrived. But I didn't really notice he was there. (Sorry love). If my memory serves me right, Rick said, "Hey" in a nonchalant, manly way, and Dave said, "hey" back.

The remainder of the day I bounced back and forth between elated and devastated, depending on what I was thinking about.

Had I not had my miscarriage, I would have never met Dave. Was it worth it?

A thousand times no.

I still think about the baby that could have been and wonder what our lives would be like if things had turned out differently. But, was it a nice diversion, if only for a moment?

Definitely, yes.