Today, on ‘Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness day’ and a couple of days after I wrote ‘Trusting the baby in the tweed jacket’ I lost my baby.
I should say, we lost him 5 months ago too, and were so happy when I became pregnant again, feeling that this was his chance to come in as he needed to.
I say ‘lost’, because that is my sense of it. He is lost to me physically, and yet there is the hope that I will find him again physically. I felt the energy of him about me through the whole process, and I do yet. But I had been confused about the Trust in the last post because of the feeling / not feeling sense of where my baby was at.
This morning, before we went to the hospital, as I felt my womb become less-pregnant, I asked for a sign that my little one was OK. I felt him all around me, and then from the playroom, one of those weird talky-toys left in a corner under a heap of teddies randomly said ‘Hello!’… OOOOeeeeeooooo
At the hospital they did a scan. This tiny, tiny dot on the screen that had stopped growing was our baby. The doctors hedged their bets as they said he may continue to grow, but I knew this part of the story was over. And yet, as we floated through the daze of bumps and heartbeats that were not ours, I felt him around me still. A vast presence wrapped around my belly.
In the car, we talked about our oldest child, who – at 3 years old- shortly after we found out we were expecting again had said “Mam, its time for there to be a baby swimming in your belly now”. And our 20 month old, who had randomly started kissing my belly every night. How just recently my older child said ‘There’s a baby in that belly now mammy”. We agreed that, if they asked, we would tell our babies that this little one had just gone on holiday and will be back in my belly soon again.
When I got home, I felt as though we needed to let our baby go back to the stars and sat outside in the autumn sun, with our dogs, my husband pottering around, coming to hold me, and we asked the ancestors to guide him and be with him. I came in to rest, and here, I felt him again, around me as he has been for so long.
I was confused again. Its like he’s an energetic boomerang. And while it made me happy, I was so confused. Here is my womb weeping and expelling the physical body of my baby, cramping, telling me this pregnancy is gone from us. And between the cramps, I feel something like renewal, and the presence that is unwavering and faithful to the end. The heart energy that I feel so much in my work is there, the orbs of connection that are beyond boundary are strong.
My brain shouts ‘SHUT UP! This can’t be!’ The old me who resides a lot in her head. There is the vibrant redness that symbolises life-ending and life-sustinance all together. The end to the nervous knicker-watching of the past few days, and what really shouldn’t feel like a new beginning. It’s all just odd.
And then there is the grief. The sadness for the face I have seen so often when I close my eyes. The sadness for my husband’s sadness. The sadness of the giddy excited-ness of meeting my baby and it being kissed and slobbered on by parents, siblings, relations and dogs alike. The sadness of that feeling of not-being-pregnant anymore. Just me. Alone again. Being one.
And in the grief, Boomerang Boy pops up. Like a horizontal disc, or plane of awareness around my belly. So I sleep and hope the process goes quickly.
In the evening I heard from Shelley. She is wonderful. She has guided me through all of my pregnancies and the previous miscarriage. Together over the past few months we have shared our similar impressions of this little soul. She has been unwavering in her trust of this being. I am too weary to speak but she sits with our story herself and sends me a recording of her impressions. They resonate so much with me and help me find the trust again. She feels how much this little one is turning my understanding of what is ‘normal’ inside out. This is the reason I am able to write in this sleeplessness.
This is the reason I am able to write the following:
Trust in(side )Sadness
My little lost love,
You wear me as a tutu of energy all around me
Twinkly, full of vibrancy, full of the dance.
My body is unsure and my brain is old-school – thinking too much.
And you twirl around me, making my understanding dizzy
And you spin a torus to the stars,
sparkling this way and that.
Your tiny earthly body leaving now
My body mourns your absence.
Tweedy Tiny Teacher, wise as wideness.
I still don’t understand why, but you say ‘Trust!’
And I try to park my grief, and follow your lead
Breathe. Release. Like the tides,
the current of the unknown will bring me back to you in time.
Healthy, strong, creative and full of love.
Your Mamma is waiting.
©Babysoulbeam.com October15 2015