Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Pagan Ritual for Miscarriage

My miscarriage story...

To my little girl... who never lived.


I stared at the ultrasounds screen, studying every grainy curve of my still, silent child. She (though I never found out the sex) measured at 6 and a half weeks, and should have been 10. I had taken to calling her Herman (I picked the most random, antiquated name I could think of as a private joke) in the days I thought things were okay and Lil A. K. (Little A$$ Kicker) at the end when things were not. She was to be our first child. Her due date was October 7th. I’d already started working on putting together a nursery in the spare bedroom.