chemical pregnancy

chemical pregnancy

the opportunity of a new life, stolen, becomes a lie.

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Telling Atheist Dad about early pregnancy loss

Bad News (telling atheist dad about a miscarriage)

Bad News (telling atheist dad about a miscarriage)

Bad News

stabbed in the gut. throbbing pain. hands heavy.

you want for me to talk. i can’t. what words are there for describing that i am a tomb?   that i am curled here holding death?

will you be mad, that i was unable to sustain our child.

you ask what is going on. I answer with, I am having a weird period.

i wish you would hold me. we disconnect. i am left alone.


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conception through first trimester for an atheist dad

Atheist Dad: First Trimester

ovulation. corpus luteal. fallopian tube. 2 weeks. intercourse. cilia have moved my egg to your sperm.

after intercourse between our animate beings my ovum is met. zona pellucida penetrated. cortical reaction verifies your paternity.

it was electric. one last divide and the pronucleus ensures maternal genetics is unquestionable. our DNA combine. 3 weeks. we multiply. oocyte to zygote.

4 days of movement and the blastocyte is now in my uterus. my body spikes in temperature. progesterone pumps up the vascular lining. a week has gone by, endometrium implantation.  4 weeks. i am pregnant. blastocyst to embryo.

casting of a membrane. chorion. placenta tissue. hCG. missed period.

a band of cells hold autoelic coding. exponential growth in three layers.  5 weeks. fatigue. embryonic period.

twisted hearts move to a curved c. neural tube closing. 6 weeks.

head. eyes. 8 weeks. 13mm.

basic structure resembles our animal selves. 10 weeks. fetus.

clitoris and labia majora. third of an ounce. two inches. 11 weeks. daughter.

facial profile of a human. 14 grams. 60mm. 12 weeks. first trimester.


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Waiting for spring

It is cold.

The normal frigid Chicago winters with feet of snow have warmed to bring slush and rain.

The rain. uggghh. Pouring down. Flooding all the little nooks and crannies. Unescapable. Overwhelming. Rushing to and fro trying to dodge it. The rain always comes.

As far as weather rain goes, I love it because of course, I know it means life. I have always been fascinated in the water cycle and earth’s beautiful rejuvenation. I hardly ever complain of rain, It sustains us. Rain is what makes the green-grass-carpet to lay in and the waving green leaves to rock-a-bye to in the shade during the summer. I love the rain.

But man, as far as life goes- the rain. Constant crying, sorrow, heartache, death… unexplainable, unfair, unavoidable, pain? It is a little harder to know for certain that this cycle of rain will end in spring. But it  must, right? Just like the seasons of never ending gloom that winter brings and changes to blossoming spring, that is what is coming next? It has to be? I cant find a way to love this.

So, I am looking forward to spring. Looking forward to blossoming flowers. Because man its been raining alot here.

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Things in this house that I know belong to me:


a pair of once sparkling white Jessica Simpsons high heels from Nordstrom that are yellow from age,


a few photo albums, 


the shower curtain in the bathroom, 


some paperwork, 


the green chairs, my remaining floor pillow,


the ceramic bowls and dishes I bought from goodwill.


I am not even sure what I am supposed to consider mine.  Even my own self feels like its been taken. What I wish I could give to those I loved, seems to have been vanished.


Nothing else is mine, nothing else I earned. And even these things that I can tally are not my own, what i have is others . So idk why it makes me feel so sad that there is nothing I can point to and say, see that, I did it, i earned it, thats to show for my work. Its bizarre, ie always had the idea that anything we have is from god for everyone, but yet I feel so misplaced in this house that is not mine. I have always had this idea that we don’t now anything anyhow, so why is tho snugging me so damn much? Like i never got why we claimed landed, except for the fact that there are evil bustards out their who would secure their own comfort and let others starve. and tarts what it feels like now, it feels like my family se securing our own wealth while the people around us struggle, it does not seem right and obviously idsnt fair or kind. 


Not even my own children are mine. My first was cut out of me and my second was ripped out of me.  Even the food i grew this year came from seeds a friend borrowed to me. 


I made it through high school  from the charity of a few kind teachers, i made it to college by a few kind business men who offered me their charity that I wasted on failing the same class 3 times. My first computer was made by some pitying friends. My first car was bought by my boyfriends family, my first hobs given by family who didn’t even trust me to clean toilets. The table, bed, chairs, computers, tv, cough , rocking chair, toys, cups, ressers are all gifts from someone else. I don’t despise the people who gave them to me but I can’t breathe beneath all the things i never wanted or never needed.


In a way the only thing I felt I might have almost earned was finishing the line in cross country. and even in that i never for a mini;the thought i did it on my own, a whole team and other teams ran alongside me, trained alongside me, pushed me, encouraged me, couches guided me on what to eat and how much weight to life, a physical trainer warmed my injuries and wrapped my legs, my family came to cheer me on and sacrificed early morning satrudays to drive me to races. how could one even claim that they did it all on their own. why would one want to do it all on their own. i hate being alone, i hate miserably being here all alone, yet i brush offf intitiaion s of help and quit when change starts brewing. and here i am, with nothing to show. I’ve been alive, if you can call it that, for 28 years and its just this void, this slice in the line of time, so insignificant and so miserable yet full of blessings. whats wrong with me.


I ponder, there was a time I could have taken care of myself? When i look back, i don’t see that opening, all i see is blankness. Ive been other’s charity, being abused for other’s pleasure, being given pitty when all i wanted was a bit of empathy, when all i needed was to be given space to grow . So what does a girl do whose earned nothing and cannot care for herself? I don’t know but I know I cry, too much.

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When you cry every day. When tears dont seem to end. I wait for a moment of dry but am interrupted by uncontrolled bouts of rain. Days to weeks, will it be months or years of mourning? Will the sadness, regret, and guilt fade or will they become vivid stains?

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The smile of the rapists makes me sick. Having to use a lot of will power to remain positive and shift those negative thoughts unto something productive, like, being grateful that the truth is out?, that justice is served?, that there are people out there who condemn such violence?, whatever it is, contrasting the hate and violence. Update on the case: 3rd man pleads guilty:

Shattered Idealist

Trigger warnings: The links describe violent assault.Please feel free to pray and share your replies of encouragement but not continue reading. Be kind to yourself and others.

Share Love. Contrast Hate.

We are raising awareness to help with the immediate needs of the victims of the Grand Rapids home invasion. We will also be gathering resources and donations for their long term recovery.

At this time, names have remained anonymous. GRPD is investigating. The party who robbed the occupants were not caught. If you know the parties involved we ask that you respect their privacy/protection/anonymity. Call the police if you have information!

” Detectives are hoping someone with information will call in a tip. Anyone with information about these crimes is asked to call Silent Observer at (616) 774-2345. ”

Love filled replies will be gathered and sent to the families. (Please be aware of victims’ and families’…

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