No-Name Child

They could only schedule the
dilation and curettage
for the following Tuesday,
so we packed an extra duffel bag
for our previously planned trip
containing:
              	two rubber gloves
              	one blue aquarium fish net 
              	one lidded plastic container
              	one package of super absorbency pads
              	one bottle of ibuprofen
 
We headed to Detroit to celebrate
our anniversary,
with no way of knowing
when my body might expel
the dead.
In fact, it seemed to be in denial,
or so I understood the term
 
              	missed miscarriage   
 
The duffel bag of doom remained in
our car all weekend, and
the only sign of my body's
reluctant acceptance of
reality
was the pointed absence of nausea,
the cruel dearth of retching,
the brutal way I kept down my dinner.