I felt her sweet and gentle spirit for the first time several years ago as I passed a field at harvest time. And last year on Halloween, I told my husband she'd be here this time next year. Do you really want another, he asked. I can just feel this little spirit that wants to be with us, I told him. And on January 17, I knew she was on her way; preparing to arrive on the Harvest Moon, October 11, 2011. I refused to take a pregnancy test, why would I, when I could feel her already. I knew my body. This was the third time I'd felt the shift, the dance within, as my body prepared a safe home for our daughter. And yet, this time- I felt anxious. There was a something, and yet nothing, that was not quite right.
The weeks added up, and plans were made. Cravings for seasoned curly fries, and lemon popsicles. Knitting patterns, yarn. This little one didn't need anything, so I was free to craft anything I'd want. My clothes got tight, my waist thickening.
SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT. I heard it so loud, just before I opened my eyes. But what, what is not right? Everything is right, this is just right, I want it to be right.
Another week or two. I phone my midwife. It is just a few spots. It is just light bleeding, no cramping. It is pink, it's so little- I know its nothing to cause alarm. And I do not feel alarmed. My spirit, my spirit already knows.
There is no heart beat, she moved the doppler, she moves it all around. And I drive to the sonogram. She's had the doula meet me there. And my mom is on her way. I didn't invite anyone, I wanted to not be worried about their feelings. The office is quite, we are the only ones there. And there is my beautiful girl on the screen, perfect in every way, accept the heart that is not beating anymore.
A whole week passes before my body finally gets the message, there is nothing it can do.
With far more torment than it took to bring forth my other girls, my body finally lets her go. A teeny tiny perfect child. Hands crossed over her heart, head bowed. Not in any kind of prayer but full of divinity. This moment of heart break and longing, is also a moment of grace and beauty. An absolutely sacred moment I am honored and grateful I was allowed to share with my baby. It is the only moment I will ever have.
And now, for the first time in my life, my body and spirit are arguing. One wants to hold onto this child, and the other is begging for another. My body trying to tell my spirit how comforted it will be when I look towards the future. But when I look, I see all my plans for this child wiped away and so much emptiness in its place. Now as a busy mama of two girls, I have a full calendar. But space was made within my mind, and body and within our lives. And now what. I know this is part of the story. This is part of the life we are living. It is not life, and is not full and radiant without us also hearing and feeling our sadness and pain. Living fully in these last few weeks has proven that. Without pushing the pain and the fear away, I got to take possession of my story. To make sure it is mine, the one I want to live. I proved to myself, I am indeed who I think I am. And so are those around me.
Because of this, I can be at peace, and know my baby is too. But I can also be terribly sad. This sadness has a gift within it. The passion and celebration that infuse my life will burn even brighter. The intuition that spurs my actions, will be louder. And my connection to the universe, and it wisdom, more profound.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Yay! Not only can we believe spring is actually on it's way, but we can fill those last few moments of winter with plenty of lovely projects and recipes to prepare for its arrival. I am honored to be a contributor and share with you my absolute love for farmer's markets and local food. One of our favorite spring time recipes that, for us, signals celebration and the start of the warm season is Rhubarb Shortcakes. The recipe is included with my submission and I must advise you eat them outdoors, bathed in sunshine, with wonderful friends and sticky little children.
Posted by sherene at 5:33 AM