Welcome! This blog, which chronicled nearly two years of my KuKd life, "went dark" in April 2010 after the birth of my live son, Sean Murphy. I promised myself that I'd end it when he arrived safely, and he did, so I did. Although I am no longer publishing my thoughts here, all earlier posts are still available to view.
What is KuKd?
KuKd stands for "knocked up, knocked down." It is used an adjective to describe the experience of losing a pregnancy, a baby-like mass of cells, a zygote, an embryo, a fetus, or an actual baby via miscarriage, stillbirth, blighted ovum, infertility, infant death, or anything in between. Most people pronounce it by simply stating the letters: kay-you-kay-dee. Others say "kooked," but if they said that in my presence, I probably wouldn't know what they were talking about (not that the Kukd experience doesn't leave your brain a little kooked-out).
Who writes this blog?
Right now, nobody. It used to be me, Monica.
Who the heck are you, Monica?
I'm just an ordinary, progressive-minded, disgruntled-but-doing-generally-okay KuKd x 3 (Knocked Up, Knocked Down) momma. My first was a nearly 4-month boy fetus named Boy Fetus. That was in July of 2006. Next came Zachary, stillborn in August 2007. Finally, a 2009 blighted ovum (also known as Mother Nature's Greatest Mindfuck). With great joy and relief, I gave birth to a live son, Sean Murphy, in March 2010. I now live with my hunk-o-husband, baby-substitute dog, and - of course - Lil' Sean in the lovely Pacific Northwest. I drink way too much coffee and wine, and used to spend a lot of time putting together EXHALE before I passed that project onto another group of great gals. My first book was just released by Catalyst Book Press. It's called Knocked Up, Knocked Down, and you should give it a read.
Why did you start this blog?
This blog was born about ten months after my son Zachary's dirth. I had some lingering dead-baby-related thoughts that I needed to express, and blogging provided a space to do that. Since then, this blog has grown into a space for many kinds of people walking different paths of sorrow, helping all of use feel normal during the alienating and insanity-producing experience of losing a baby or pregnancy.
I'm sorry. Did you just say "dirth?"
Yes. Dirth = death + birth. Dirth, dirthday, dirthing ceremony.