The Biggest Project Of My Life

I have been devoid of words for a long time. My journals are empty; my blog, abandoned. Only one poem has come to me in the last few months. It caught me as I walked under a beautiful sky: the words just started forming in my mind, and my mouth recited them to memorise them so I could share them with the world. It happened to be just what I and many others needed during these difficult times. 

You can find the poem on Insight Timer (MemberPlus):

I believe there is a reason why my creative life is so quiet, and it's not just because it's winter or because of the state of the world. There simply hasn't been any space in my mind for creativity. The reason is this:

In my last post, I talked about the baby I lost almost a year ago. I happened to lose another one after that, although it was so early we couldn't even see anything on the screen. But on the third attempt, things worked out. The pregnancy was successful. I got to hear this baby's strong heartbeat on the same week my first one lost theirs. And on the three-month mark, which is when I heard the terrible news that time, I saw this little one jump and slide in my womb, so full of life. I feel him moving sometimes, reminding me that he's there, reassuring me he's okay. It's the most incredible feeling, and it's all I've been able to think about.

The thing is, when you've suffered loss, a new pregnancy is not simply a joyful event, but the most terrifying thing as well. You're afraid it will happen again. You become obsessed with your symptoms. You're eager to go to your doctor's appointments, but dread them at the same time. You shake and hold back tears, which inevitably overflow when you hear that heartbeat or see movement with your own eyes, only this time they're tears of relief, of bliss.

Because I know how fragile and precious this delicate process is, I want to be aware of it every minute. I have to.

Besides all that worried-filled celebration, there is another element we can't forget: the baby or babies that died. The loss can't be erased, and sometimes it catches you off guard and you mourn a little more. You might start clinging to whatever spiritual beliefs you have. We like to think this baby is the same spirit we lost, coming back in a healthier body. The sceptical part of my brain laughs, but that thought gives me comfort when I choose to believe it.

The baby kicks me as I write this. People call babies born after loss "rainbow babies". Yes, he is our rainbow. A summer baby, painting our world gold after so much darkness. The biggest project of my life. Whoever this little person is, I'm excited to get to know him, to find out what he loves, what he wants to bring into this world, what he's willing to fight for. I'm excited to give him everything I have to give.

I'm halfway through this pregnancy now. Because I've heard many stories within the baby loss community, I know nothing is guaranteed. I know there is no safe date that determines a baby will be okay, not even after they're born. Medical advances have turned impossibilities into miraculous realities, but death will always be a part of life. Still, I believe he's going to be okay. We're going to be okay.

rainbow baby

A little note on my creative projects: I'm still uploading meditations, and I'm working on a project that I hope will be finished before the baby comes. If you've listened to my work or sent me a donation at some point, know I am eternally grateful, and I will continue to publish content, even if it is at a slow pace. Thank you for your patience and support!

Take care, friends.

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