Calcification

About a month ago, I saw a show on TLC about bizarre, harrowing pregnancies.  Don't ask why I watch those, 'cause I don't know.  Morbid curiosity and a need to convince myself that I am not, actually, the most creative when it comes to new ways to lose a kid are the two front runner explanations, though.

Anyway, this show was about ectopic pregnancy.  When I read the synopsis on the guide, I though, "Ectopic? How is that weird or unusual?  You have an ectopic, they either catch it or they don't, which means you could have an interesting trip to the E.R., but either way, it ends up with no baby."  I know, this is way oversimplifying, but I still couldn't see how they would get a whole hour-long show out of something that is, unfortunately, so very common.

But they did.  It seems that some women have ectopic pregnancies that implant in the abdominal cavity, well outside the confines of the uterus.  And, on even more rare occasions, these pregnancies can sometimes establish enough of a blood supply to develop a relatively functional placenta.  They told the story of a middle-eastern woman who, over forty-five years ago, had been pregnant with a baby who, in her words, "went to sleep".  She'd gone into labor, but after three days of horrific pain, no baby ever came.

Then, nearly a half-century later, doctors discovered that the mass she'd carried in her belly ever since was this same child.  Ordinarily, the woman would have died from the toxins released by the baby when it died.  But in her case, the body managed to seal the baby in layer upon layer of calcium.  Calcification, the doctor explained, is a very common response from our bodies when they encounter something foreign.

The doctors operated - a task that was, in itself, fraught with risk - and finally freed the baby from its mother.  Born, finally, nearly fifty years later.  You could see that it was a baby.  A baby that was turned to stone as its mother's body sought to protect her.

I thought it was a powerful metaphor: the body coating over something harmful in layers of protective material, hardening the harmful something into a stone, never actually destroying it, but glossing over it until it was a mere representation of the original object.

I think we all do this emotionally, as well as physically.  Sometimes pain is simply too large and threatening to be processed.  It has to be sealed off.  Not destroyed - not forgotten - but fundamentally changed.  Transmuted into something tolerable until such time as our mind and our spirit can address it.

And because of this, I was not so surprised when Dr. Smooth pointed to some bright white spots during my ultrasound.  "It looks like we have some calcification," he said. 

Damn straight, I've got some calcification.  And I count myself lucky that it's nothing more than a few bright glittering spots on an ultrasound screen.  In less than two weeks he'll go in and attempt to remove those threatening scars and stony nodules from my uterus. 

As for the other calcifications - the spiritual ones - well, they'll just have to stay put.  Reminders of scars to deep to heal completely.

Comments

[Pink-Diamonds]

Sometimes the scars don't heal completely. We will always wish that they weren't there, but they change us. They make us stronger. And even though I wish no one would ever have unhealing scars we all do in one way or another. So, from one who has not gone through all that you have, but has been through her own scars. I wish you a thousand more good times, and a chance to cry sometimes too. You are an amazingly strong women.

[Heather Ann]

I think I would not have made it through had I been faced with the pain that you have already had in your life. I have several very difficult-to-deal-with memories that I take out and air very occasionally - I can feel the breath being sucked from my very being when I allow these memories to rise to the surface. I love your metaphors. I completely am in awe of your strength.
I hope the next steps go well and you recover quickly.

[heather]

beautiful post. thank you for this.

[elecriclady]

What a lovely metaphor. I hope Dr. Smooth gets everything out and your ute will soon be open for business.

(And OMG I TOTALLY SAW THAT SHOW TOO! The woman who had triplets--two growing inside her uterus, one in her abdominal cavity? Crazy.)

[spit]

wow, very powerful post

[SarahD]

Very well put, and so true. The really big things never go away, becoming part of our makeup, but no longer threatening us. Best of luck on the next big step!

[cagey]

Beautiful post. sigh.

[Dona]

whoa...deep thoughts by Julia. Loved it.

[Georgia]

So you now know what you're up against, which doesn't seem as formidable an enemy as you've faced...go forth and rid thee of the calcifications!

[Amanda Lynn]

Wow, thank you for such a poignant post. I'm crying as I'm writing, thinking of the baby she carried around, sealed off from her, that saved her, and that through grace was finally born so many years later.

And I'm thinking of my own baby lost in early pregancy. I felt its loss so deeply and your tender words remind me. Thank you.

[kim]

wow. thank you for that. another IF blogger referred me to this post after a posting i made about the pain of IF ever going away or if it is somehow forgotten if and when one becomes pg. the story really hits home for me. thank you.

now I need to go back and read from the beginning!

[Jennie]

My bestfriend in london texted this to me when I had a real strange pregnancy that ended up in miscarriage early this year. Reading about this makes it even more fascinating.

Thanks for sharing. Nice post! :-)