In February of ’92, 18 weeks pregnant, with Robert already looking at tiny guitars in second hand shops, I had marked up the seminar list of the Northwest Flower and Garden show with plans to take three days off work and attend many gardening seminars. Instead, the amnio which my doctor had pushed before because I was over 35 caused a miscarriage. We had been told this could happen in 2% of all cases. Two percent seemed miniscule and like it could not apply to me. But it did, and since then small percentages of disaster seem all too possible. I managed to leave the hospital and make a brief walk through of the display gardens on the Sunday of the show. It was particularly disheartening to see small children, because a heavy dose of hormonal drop and grief had kicked into my life.
After some physical recovery on my party, Robert and I wed. We felt that we had been close to being a family, and it had been downright scary with me being hospitalized and Robert having been allowed into the room only through the mercy of the nurses since he had no legal right to be there.
Dee Dee Rainbow
We found a delightful person who was willing to perform the ceremony at our home: Dee Dee Rainbow, an eccentric and kind and extraordinary woman who combined a memorial for our lost son, Devon, in the wedding. Dee Dee should have been in full colour, but as we became friends with her, she will appear in all her glory in a later entry.
drinking from a chalice
My dear old friend and former partner Bryan was among our five guests; the others were Tom and Barbara from Eugene and of course my longtime housemate Wilum Pugmire. Our other housemate, Carol, had moved by then.
lighting a candle for Devon
Barbara and Wilum
Although the ceremony was tiny, we had been sent loads of flowers from friends.
flowers
Below, more wedding flowers and a drawer in my china cabinet which I had filled with sand and shells from Long Beach as a memory of my beach dreams. Even though expecting a child had been why I had given up on those dreams, I was in no mental state to revive them at that time.
memory drawer of beach dreams
more flowers
and more
and more
Robert, me, and Dee Dee
the wedding party
above, Wilum, Tom, Barbara, Robert, me, and Dee Dee Rainbow, 20 March
And then….I took no more photos for months. It took me a long time to feel well again after the miscarriage. An unphotographed series of events followed, when my ex, Chris, and Robert and I and a couple of our friends formed a band and even played out live a couple of times. Strange, true, and undocumented except for one or two cassette tapes. We played Chris’s songs and Robert made up beautiful guitar melodies which I can still hear in my mind to this day. Bryan ran the sound and recorded our one club performance, but it took way more energy than I had at the time. I played bass, which I hear is kind of a joke for a novice musician. I found I had kind of a knack for making up melodic bass lines and got rather a thrill from it. But it took many hours and hours of practice because I was not a natural musician. I realized that I could not garden AND play music, both needing to be all consuming hobbies for me. So I went back to focusing on work, gardening, and dreaming of the beach. (It was no great loss to the music world.)
The only photo of the garden that I took all year is this one, showing a friend’s child and the size of the Climbing Shot Silk rose on the front arbour.
my last photo of my Seattle garden
For anyone who goes through the pain of a miscarriage, might I recommend the following books that got me through it. Nowadays, internet support groups would be an enormous help, but then books were what saved me. (If the author names are wrong, I blame my handwriting of the time, because this list is from an old notebook of books read.) Shortly after getting out of the hospital I went to Tower Books where a friend worked and he helped me find all they had on the subject. I read them one after another. For years, I kept them in a box, and later when a friend suffered the same loss I passed them all on.
Coping with Miscarriage by Pizer and Palinski
Empty Cradle, Broken Heart: Surviving the Death of Your Baby by Deborah L. Davis
Miscarriage: Sharing the Grief, Facing the Pain, Healing the Wounds by Williamson
When Pregnancy Fails by Borg and Lasker
Ended Beginnings: Healing Childbirth Losses by Panuthos and Romeo
When a Baby Dies: A Handbook for Healing and Helping
Empty Arms: Coping After Miscarriage, Stillbirth and Infant Death
Loss of a Baby: Understanding Maternal Grief by Margaret Nicol
Motherhood and Morning Perinatal Death by Peppers and Knapp
After a Loss in Pregnancy by Nancy Berezin
When Hello Means Goodbye by Pat Schwiebert
Miscarriage: A Shattered Dream by Ilse and Burns
Surviving Pregnancy Loss by Friedman and Gradstein
Yesterday, I Dreamed of Dreams: Poems, Letters and Memorials Written by Parents for Babies They Love
Tangly Cottage Gardening 