Karin Mitchell's books on Goodreads
Between Families Between Families
reviews: 5
ratings: 8 (avg rating 4.75)

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Miscarriage Part III: The End?

The morning of the D&C I was awoken several times by the phone ringing. So I gave up and got up. I putzed around on the internet for a few and then decided to go for a run. I figured I wouldn’t feel up to it again for a while. Plus I had some extra energy.

As they wheeled me in, I determined to focus on beautiful things. I pictured the sun glinting off the water in the creek, listened to it rush, felt the warm sun on my arms, and Rob’s hand in mine as I drifted off. I had beautiful dreams.

My eyes fluttered open to the stark whites of the hospital and I felt socked in the stomach. I cried and cried.

“I had a miscarriage. I forgot. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” I searched for Rob’s hand and cried.

When the shock wore off, though, I felt surprisingly fine. Like the whole thing had been some medical problem I’d had taken care of.

The shame and humiliation I felt at having told so many people of my pregnancy felt far away and the pain of the procedure was practically non existent. I had no nausea and went home and slept fine. It was almost as though nothing had ever happened.

But something had happened, and escape from grieving isn't that easy. Miscarriage is a weird thing to grieve. Its something you never had. Just a set of hopes and dreams, plans and visions. But its also grieving a personal loss of the pregnancy itself.

I had a fearless pregnancy. I was thrilled with every pound I gained, every food I ate, every change I noticed. I felt feminine like never before. I praised my curves and loved my body. I had no fear of anything touching that. And that's gone. I still want to have children. So I know I will likely be pregnant again. And I wish that made me feel better. But it actually makes me sadder. I'm scared about how I won't feel that same uncomplicated happiness the next time. And overall I'm just bone deep sad sometimes.

I feel like this strand in my blog needs an ending. But this is not a neat and tidy thing. There's good and bad.

At my two week follow up doctor's appointment after the D&C when the doctor said, "You're cervix is closed up nicely and I can feel that your uterus is back to normal size." I wanted to kick her friendly face. How could my body have healed perfectly already? Two days later I ovulated and I wanted to chuck my uterus into the toilet.

I was terrified to hold my baby niece after the miscarriage and cried and cried thinking about how scared I was.

But, I've run almost every day of these last nearly 3 weeks and watched the beautiful creek turn to a rushing river, the trees greening, and the first wildflowers appearing. I've enjoyed a wonderful trip to NY and pampered myself like never before.

I've felt more connected to my husband and to the people who've experienced this heartbreak.

But I've also had to sit through conversations about "How could she not know she was pregnant." And answer the "could you be pregnant" question on the piercing release.

I've been touched by a bottle of whiskey left on the porch that we found coming home from surgery. And I've panicked at a birthday party where I was having a perfectly good time. I've been angry at the cocoa butter I bought for stretch marks I won't have to worry about and am thrilled at having a ski video premier at my house soon (copy of video to be posted in coming weeks with permissions.)

I have a good life. With a good husband and fun plans on the horizon, like a huge camping trip to some hot springs with my brother-in-law who's a BLAST and an upcoming 30th birthday that I can celebrate however I want. But for the first time in my life, I have to be careful when drinking because there's a possibility that I might be the crying-inconsolable-drunk I've never been before.

So if it ends with anything, it is this: I am hopeful. And realistic.

I know that I'm working under the philosophy of "fake it till you make it." And I think that works for me. Sometimes I'm the normal me and others I just have to cry in front of a painting.

Klimpt Hope II

Of course this painting is famous. But I'd never seen it, or more specifically felt it, in person. I saw it during the day I spent mostly by myself in New York at the Museum of Modern Art. I really enjoy art museums and modern art is my favorite so this was the perfect thing to do by myself. On my own time.

So when I stood in front of it, (dressed to the nines I might add,) I let the tears stream down my face as I read the title, "Hope II."

This painting said it all with this serene faced woman and her downcast eyes and the all women below her holding her up.

I know what my first hopes were. And I know that my future hopes are held up by all the women and men who know the pain of miscarriage. Thank you all for your silent, grounding support. I know you're there and I know I'll join you in supporting others who suffer this same loss in the future.

For the record I might blog about this still. But this is the end for now.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Too Dangerous to Fire

All the ingredients for potential: guns grief and whiskey
The old Winchester lays in waiting on the shelf
I’m told its too dangerous to fire
And wonder at that irony

The potential in my arms
And hips
They way they can move
Produce and destroy
The baby they could hold
Or drop
Or lose
Maybe its just too dangerous to fire

What do you do with a gun that won’t fire?
What do I do with my empty hands?

Friday, May 29, 2009

Friday Quotes!

"I don't feel like I'm an ass on the war to progress. I mean, a wart on the ass of progress."

“I'd wear Jackie Stallone like a hockey mask.”

"Hey, it's the sun. It's been a while, cancer ball."

"The two women who always bring plastic bags to sit on just asked where the public restroom is."

“I make a special point of keeping my butt wet so I can use your towel.”

“I’d need a cold shower after that.”

"I love Steve Perry and throw my food, drinks, hair, etc. around as an act of almost ecstatic joy when I hear his power shrieks. I've actually renamed my lady part "Steve Perry" in homage."

"Put the toddler's clip-on earrings on. She screamed, "No! You're not a princess! Take them off!" Sexist."

"everything on hostel computer is in chinese. I just typed hotmao when signing in. I think my typing's racist."

Me "pierced nose feels like big booger that you're not supposed to touch."
PPP "you got your nose pierced? good shit"
Me "I also bought new shoes, am going to the hot springs and getting a massage, pedicure, and manicure. I'm going to do yoga and meditate and play my piano and be good to my body."
PPP "I think it would make you feel good to send me new shoes..."
Auntie Joo "I'm with PPP - I wear an 11N. Wait, did I just say that on facebook?"
Auntie Joo "I'm such a booger-picker - I could never have a nose piercing - it would drive me crazy. Wait, did I just say that on facebook..."
TBK "Yay Auntie Joo for announcing she's a nose picker! I want to be her friend now."

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Wednesdays' Weirdos: A Drunken Girl's Best Friend

I heard a commercial on the radio that I just couldn't believe made it to the radio. It was this couple talking about how they got together.

Dude: "We met in a bar."
Girl: "I think it was 25 cent pitcher night."

beer pitcher

Girl: "The only thing that was really important to me was that he ask my parents for permission."
Dude: "So I did, and her dad told me to go to ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME to buy the diamond."


I couldn't believe they came up with an ad that was worse than listening to the Shane Company Loser. Not only that but that no one stopped it from heading to the airwaves. Making the marketer for that company this week's Wednesday's Weirdo: A Drunken Girl's Best Friend.

Weird cuz when I'm the drunk girl, more beer or a breakfast diner are my best friend.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Friday Quotes!

"I don't think I could stab someone. I'm terrible with a capri sun."

"Know who likes to get fisted? Sock puppets."

"The kid called me a racist."
"Just cuz you've got a southern accent doesn't meant you're racist. It just increases the odds."

"YOu guys should totally come listen to my band. Its called "incognito." Its an air band. I play the air triangle."

"using the line..."From the guys who brought you White Chicks" not a good way to promote your movie."

"I'm in love with Coach Taylor from Friday Night Lights, why couldn't he have been my coach in high school? Oh, wait, I didn't play any sports..."

"I'm so excited. Today's the training where I get to talk about sex and say 'cock' and 'pussy' all day!"

"What a cute baby! Let's go get some cigarettes."

"My 8 yr old daughter just asked me what KFC stood for. I told her. She said, "OH I thought it stood for 'Kill the Fucking Chickens.'""

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Wednesdays' Weirdos: Cuffed Karate MasTard

This article appeared in my local newspaper, The Summit Daily, on Wednesday, May 13th

A man with a history of violence was arrested on the Interstate-70 median last week after swinging a set of nunchucks in front of an officer with the Summit County Sheriff’s Office.

He was wearing a full-length trenchcoat and declared he was kicked off a bus in Silverthorne while on his way from Denver to Los Angeles.

The man said he had been “riding the bus when he saw a girl with the ‘swine flu’ and attempted to eliminate her by grabbing her throat,” according to the SCSO report.

Another passenger hit the man and he was thrown off the bus before he got into a fight with a gang at a gas station in Silverthorne, the man said.

Authorities found the man after receiving a call that he was in the I-70 median waving his arms at cars and screaming.

As the officer approached, the man turned his back, hiding his hands. When the man turned around, the officer spotted the nunchucks in his pants waistband.

Asked if he was carrying the weapon, the man responded: “Yeah, I am a karate master!”

The man began to swing the nunchucks around his upper body.

The officer aimed a Taser X-26 at the man, decided he was too far away, and began reaching for his handgun. The karate master dropped the nunchucks and began to walk away.

A knife and some marijuana was discovered on the man, in addition to the traditional Asian weapon.

En route to Summit County Jail, the man told the officer “that he was 468 years old, and was being hunted across the country by priests, nuns and monks,” according to the report.

He said he had just gotten out of prison after a prior assault in which he was shot in the foot by Denver Police Department.

Although the man acknowledged that he’s prohibited from owning nunchucks in Colorado, he said he could just get another pair if the ones he was carrying were taken.


He also talked to imaginary people while riding to the jail.

After the man was taken inside the jail, the officer inspected the back of the patrol car and found two .40 caliber handgun rounds. But no gun was found on the man or on the highway, and the man said he didn’t know where the rounds came from.

A background check showed assault, violence charges and several felony convictions in the past 10 years.

The karate master was booked with charges of possession of a prohibited weapon, felony menacing, felony weapons possession by a previous offender and possession of less than an ounce of marijuana.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Miscarriage Part II

I still wanted to think there was just something tricky but everything could still be fine. I teared up as we were leaving and Rob offered to just hang out with me until the next appointment. I declined and went to meet with a client instead.
I dropped my client off for a home visit with his mother, telling him I’d be back to pick him up in a couple of hours. Then I went back to the doctor’s office to have the ultrasound.

Stonefaced, I approached the window and handed my script to the 7 month pregnant woman at the desk. I held back, stiff, no tears.

Rob and I were led back into the ultrasound room where I disrobed and I prepared myself for the discomfort of an internal ultrasound. The doctor waved the ultrasound wand around for a few moments. She looked at my uterus and ovaries and said my ovaries looked good. Nothing about my uterus.

“Am I still pregnant” I asked beginning to sob.
“Yes.” She said carefully. “Give me just a minute and we’ll talk about it and I show you what I’m seeing.”
“Ok,” she said taking in a deep breath, her voice calm and even, “Its not good news. You’ve had a miscarriage.”

She moved the monitor so I could see it and pointed to the small fetus.

“How long has the baby been dead?”
“I would guess 2-3 weeks.”

Now I was really sobbing. I thought I knew my body, knew how to listen to it. But I hadn’t heard a peep.

She told me I could put my clothes back on and that she or my regular doctor could counsel me on my options. I waved dismissively that I didn’t care who talked to me.
I crouched on the floor next to Rob balling and holding each other. We held on and held on, until suddenly I realized I need to get dressed. I then had to call a coworker to pick my client up.

“I’m sorry to bug you.” I said through sobs.
“What’s the matter?”
“The baby’s dead.” I managed to eek out while hyperventilating.
“Oh, Karin. Oh, KARIN. I’m soo sorry.” And I knew she was.

It so happens the coworker I spoke with has been through this on multiple occasions and I have to say, it made it much easier. She told me not to worry about anything, she’d make sure everything was taken care of. I gave her some phone numbers and she told me to just take my time and take care of myself.

The doctor came in and gave me information on my options. I could: do nothing and wait for my body to take care of it, she could send me home with some medication to cause my body to get rid of it, or we could schedule a D&C procedure to remove the fetus and other stuff surgically.

I had no trouble deciding. All I could think of was if I did the medication variety it would be very painful and last a long time and may not entirely get the job done. If I just waited, I had this awful image of being at a family’s home talking with them about their treatment only to beginning cramping and bleeding. Neither of these were acceptable. If only for physical reasons, I wanted it done. ASAP. I was granted an appointment the next morning.

The OB then went through a series of questions. I don’t remember everything she asked. But I do remember her asking if I’d ever had a serious drug problem or had recently had any heavy alcohol use.

“I’m thinking developing a heavy drug habit right now sounds pretty fucking good.”
“Would you like me to prescribe you some valium to help get you through.”
I looked up, relieved, decisive. “Yes. Yes I would.”

She wrote out scripts and we left. We stopped at the liquor store and the pharmacy on the way home.

Knowing I had to have surgery the next morning, I bought one Bud Light. We walked in and I popped a Valium, got together some pretzels and brought our beers outside. Rob and I held hands, while drinking our beers and watching the creek rush below us as the sun set.

Friday Quotes!

"I can see your little muscle shaking. Sorry. Your big scary, manly, makes-me-want-to -bone muscle."
"That's right."

"My body is built such that I don't know how clothes will work for me."

"I'm gonna have a soup taco."
"That would require quite the tortilla."

"Today I pretended like I didn't know what the word "sodomy" meant, so I asked Jehovah Witness people to tell me. Hee hee. They blinked a lot"

"For all those men who say, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free." Here's an update for you. Nowadays 80% of women are against marriage, why? Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire Pig, just to get a little sausage."

"When in Japan, do like the Romans..."
"and die of blowfish."

"I just want to have an Aphex Twin cover band, played all on the banjo. Its called Aphex Twang."

"Yes, I’m aware that the list of people I’d do is longer than the list of people I wouldn’t do but that doesn’t mean I’m a whore. It means I’m *agreeable*."

I pierced my nose this week and was quite pleased with myself for it. Here's the pic I posted on FB followed by the select funny comments made about said photo

Pregnancy and Rob's crutches 007

TBK "You're like MEEEE!"
Me "Just imagine what I'll post next then!"

"cute huh? You look pretty skanky to me."
"you are!!!"

"wait till you pierce your john thomas"
"Oooh, sparkly!"

Thursday, May 14, 2009


warm full strings
strummed the water toward the sky
and the frozen over lake
yawned and stretched
reaching for golden deja vous
a far off memory
smells of down-home comfort food
charcoal and shorts
flip flops and a canoe
send cracks through the slushy ice layer
the fish reach for the clouds

The mood of a dream lingers in the morning
And the sun shines suspiciously cheerful
as though nothing ever happened
I've known so many people
who've died on gorgeous spring days
without the requisite black umbrellas
to shadow the sorrow
you drive in a limo in your black clothes
passing bicyclists and convertibles
without mourning
the loss of that day
How can denial be inaccurate
wearing shorts and flip flops?

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Miscarriage Part I

I've decided to post on my experience since writing about it is helpful. I will continue to post my regular postings in between though, which may make for a weird rhythm in my writing. If you don't like it, you know how to scroll.

Rob and I waited excitedly at the doctor’s office, holding hands, anxious to hear our baby’s heartbeat. I could see his excitement in the way his legs wiggled ever so slightly.

The nurse called my name and we headed back. Everyone whispered almost seeming confused about why I was there.

Nervously she said, “You’re here for…?”
“I’m pregnant.” I said with eyebrows raised.

Why would they be so quiet about this when if you show up with a bladder infection or the runs, they’re like, “SO YOU”RE HERE BECAUSE YOU HAVE CROTCH ROT RIGHT?” or "SO WHERE IS THIS BOIL WE'RE LANCING TODAY?" Weird.

She led us to a room, I smiled, Rob and I held hands, and waited for the doctor. She came in and smiled back, congratulating us. We chatted about the activities that I prolly shouldn’t be doing but wanted to anyway like skiing and playing soccer and going down water slides. She smiled kindly and told me to listen to my body. She gave me a due date, November 24th, and said I was almost 12 weeks. The safe time when people tell. Then we went for the exam.

She felt around on my lower abdomen, then got the Doppler machine to listen to the baby’s heart.

Here comes the excitement. We both grinned excitedly as she felt around. And felt around. And felt around. Nothing.

I began to be disappointed, but not worried. I thought we just wouldn’t get to hear anything until the next appointment.

My doctor then went on to do the icky gyno stuff we all know and love, (yay stirrups) or blissfully pretend not to know about (depending if you’re a guy or girl.)

She got a concerned look as she pressed in uncomfortable ways and said my uterus wasn’t the size she’d expect for 12 weeks. She tilted my uterus and tried the Doppler again. She still couldn’t find the heartbeat.

So she wrote us a prescription for an ultrasound and set up an appointment for later that afternoon. I could tell by what she said and the look on her face that the baby was probably not ok. But I still couldn’t believe it.

I mean, I’d had NO sign of any problems. My breasts were sore and growing the same way. I’d had no pains or bleeding of any kind. I hadn’t had any bad feelings about this at all. I was 12 weeks, this was when it was supposed to be fine! But she'd said the word miscarriage and it wasn't going stop lingering just because there was a chance it wasn't true. And I was scared to death it was.

Wednesdays' Weirdos: Trashy Winona

In high school on trash days, (when I wasn't too late/forgetful/groggy to remember,) I would roll the trash can down to the street before school and pull it back after school.

So one Monday of my junior year, I pulled the can to the street and then went to school. When I got home, I went to take it back behind the house, only to find the trash can was missing. I stood there perplexed for a moment, thinking, "I know I put it by the curb this morning. Where could it have gone?"

I checked behind the house to see if some nice neighbor had moved it back but it wasn't there. I looked at the next door neighbors' curbs to see if the trash men had put it by the wrong house. No luck there either. Weird. It was just gone. Trash cans don't just take off on their own, right?

trash can

Then weirder still was that 2 days later it showed back up by the curb. People tried to get me to worry about identity theft but nothing ever came of it. Ever. No one confessed, no one stole money from our bank accounts, and it never happened again.

Then, last week when Rob and I were cleaning the house, he asked me where the toilet brush was. I told him behind the toilet in one of the two bathrooms but he claimed it wasn't in either bathroom. I checked. And he was right. I looked all over. We cleaned the whole house. But its just gone. I have no idea how/why/where a toilet brush goes missing but there it is.

toilet brush

Making for this week's Weirdo: Trashy Winona (get it, cuz she's a shoplifter)
No idea why you'd want my trash or my toilet brush, but this weirdo did.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

The Sherpa is dead

Sorry, this is not a joke or funny at all. We went to the doctor yesterday and found out that the fetus had no heartbeat. I will have a D&C today to get rid of "the products of conception." I don't want to talk about it and will likely pretend as though it never happened. I appreciate your thoughts and whatnots so please don't take this in the wrong way, but I don't want to hear anything from anyone right now. I will post more when I'm ready. I'm sure some of you who have been through it will understand. I appreciate your good thoughts and will let you know if we conceive again, next time like a normal person, waiting 13 weeks.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Friday Quotes!

"I don't believe in a God but I'm almost positive I just shit out the devil."

"I'd much rather haz a swinus infection over beaver fever, ouch"

"You look like a fairy pirate."
"Yeah, I'm shiny and show them where to shoot."

"Do you need to be saved?"
"No I think I'm God"

"K has found another person with the same problem with boxcox- only questions and replies appear to be in French. An interesting challenge..."
""Boxcox" That sounds too personal for FB"
"Ah, not very. 'Boxcox' is willing to share very little with me. I can get a graph but cannot extract the values I need. Stingy jerk!"
"Tell him he better put out or get out."
"EWWWW- do not look up "box cox" on urban dictionary"
"Boxcox - 1 definition - [Oxycontin] that is stored in the vaginal cavity. It may be loose or in a box"

Kid Quotes:

"No, don't put the toothbrush in your privates. Yucky."

"You don't scratch people's faces, you scratch them in other places."

"You're not the boss of me mommy!"
"Yes, I am, cuz I can pick you up and put you where I want you." *Mommy thinks for a moment* (Just out of surgery) "Er... I guess I can have daddy pick you up and put you where I want you."
"Well, I'm the boss of you, because I can have daddy pick YOU up mommy."

These quotes are excerpts that made me laugh out loud on TBK's website. Shhhh, its about sex.

"You know those round spaceship doors that magically materialize and open, but if not activated, resemble an impenetrable wall of steel?
Well, my asshole is like that."

"I felt DRIED up down there, like I had sand in my butt. We had actually tried the lube out earlier for regular pussy sex, and it made me feel like a cunt cactus then, too."

"Second moral of story: Anal beads are the shit! Well, not exactly, but you know what I mean."

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Wednesdays' Weirdos: The Doors

My mom gave Rob and I her timeshare condo in Beaver Creek a while back. The condo was perfectly nice with hot tubs in the courtyards. There were several courtyards each connected by these doors:

Christmas and New Year's 2008 and 2009 136

Christmas and New Year's 2008 and 2009 137

Christmas and New Year's 2008 and 2009 136

Notice where the doors go?

Making the designer of this building this week's Wednesday Weirdo: The Doors

Monday, May 4, 2009

La Cucaracha Part II

Remember this post?
Well La Cucaracha just got better.

la cucaracha

I was hanging with a friend this evening and got a travel story from her. While in Honduras doing some do-gooder-nursing-crap they traveled in HumVs across great rocky dusty roads. Each HumV had a walkie talkie in it. So each vehicle had its own handle. Her vehicle chose the handle "La Cucaracha." They talked back and forth, with their young, female, Honduran translators giggling into their sleeves all the while.

Finally the Honduran girls can't take it anymore and ask, "Do you know what 'cucaracha' is?" They ask this while wagging the tips of their tongues in the air.

"Huh?" Comes the response from the foreigners, "Its a cockroach, isn't it?"

"Not in Honduras. Here is slang for clitoris."

My first responses
1. Laughter
2. Followed quickly by, "Ew, who wants a clitoris to be associated with a cockroach. Lame."
3. Followed by more laughter as I start singing the song:

La cucaracha, la cucaracha
Ya no puede caminar

"The clitoris, the clitoris
ya, I can't walk anymore."

On a loosely related note: is awesome

name fail

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Barbie's boobies

When I occasionally played with barbies as a girl, I typically took their clothes off and they humped. There, I said it. You prolly did the same thing with your dolls.


I'd run my thumb over Barbie's Crayola-tan colored smooth boobs and think how when I grew up, I wanted boobs. Big boobs. To boot, I wanted no nipples just like Barbie. Boobs were great except the nipples in my eyes. Nipples were a weird grown up thing like coffee breath.

I grew a little mini set early on that never grew much bigger, and of course, I do have nipples. Sadly, they never got big. But thank god for nipples.

So since getting pregnant my boobs have sprouted a whole extra size. Did your parents used to tell you that potatoes and spinach would put hair on your chest? Well, this was my dinner one night and instead of hair, it put boobs on my chest!

Violet's birth 022

Its endlessly fascinating to me and I have to admit I touch my own boobies a lot for it. Rob keeps catching me and is, sadly, far less fascinated than I am.

Here is a typical scene: I'm sitting in bed propped up with my book next to me, looking down in wide-eyed fascination at my own boobs, one in each hand, as I bounce them.

Cleavage wohoo!

"Are you playing with your boobs again?"
"Yes!" I say still staring. I look up, "No look! They touch now! My boobs have finally met!!!" I exclaim, pleased with myself.
He nods clearly thinking I'm nuts.
Exasperated me, "Imagine if your cock just grew a whole extra inch all of a sudden, are you telling me you wouldn't play with it more?"

He does not respond but leaves me to my task.
New pregnancy's neat.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Friday Quotes!

Thanks to all who sent me quotes to help fill in this week!

"Are you a shoe-whore?"
"How do you think I got pregnant?"

"Hey mom, when's the last time you drank a Schlitz?"
"Probably when I was about 4, sitting on my grandpa's lap."

"I admire a woman who can maintain dignity while puking after too much whiskey"

"I guess there's a 50 percent chance that it was her that wet my bed."

"ahhh yes...slow motion dives, the textured vegetable protein of action films."

"Happily going running" an hour later "Not as happy when running behind the street sweeper. Wonder how much dog shit I just inhaled? That's like fertilizer for the baby right? Hopefully not baby DDT, more like baby roundup."

Best Swine Flu Tweets Courtesy of GRRB
"I've seen a number of young ladies wearing pigtails today....must be careful of swine flu."
"Ft Worth Dist closed their schools until further notice.Talk about hysteria.Close schools for a Swinus infection?"
"Trying to think what the next scary flu strain will be called. What's worse than swine? Hmm. Dead baby flu!!"