They say the period between 2 Eclipses holds space for deeply transformative events. That it's a significant astrological window, bringing in abrupt and sudden change. Losses and endings.
It certainly did for me...
It's 4am and I'm laying awake, with 3 sentences looping around in my head. The 3 sentences that have been doing so, since they hit my ears so abrasively back in February.
'Your baby doesn't look well'
'Sometimes these things just happen'
'I can't find a heartbeat'
10 weeks of carrying life within me;
to be told that at one random moment, a little soul decided that September 2017 was not going to be the time to arrive Earthside. That it was not going to be the time to join our family. That it would not be the time I was to be birthed as a Mama, for the second time. That in one moment, from thousands of other random moments, our baby's little heart was beating - and then it wasn't. It just stopped.
But is anything really random? Maybe just...unwanted.
On one level of consciousness.
I can't think of this as having my child taken from me; because that brings the pain of imagining someone snatching my child right from my arms, never to see them again. Yet not ever really having a chance to know them in the first place. Hold them in the first place. The loss is too unbearable. And I will never be able to heal or close that void where it feels like something is missing.
I need to believe that our baby is connected, more strongly than any of us, to a higher intelligence. A deeper wisdom and collective source of guidance and intuition than we can ever remember being connected to. And that our baby knew this was not the right time. That he will come back (yes, He) when the time is right. In Divine, perfect timing. If that is to be.
The same kind of divine timing, that had orchestrated Rhys' next flight out, to be postponed for 3 weeks. He was told, the day before we found out, that no one was getting on or off site due to heavy rains and flooding - so he was forced to be at home with us. At the perfect time. When I needed him most.
Again - unwanted on one level of consciousness, bringing the earthly worries and stresses of having to pay bills. Yet totally necessary on another.
I'm quite a private person, not because I don't let others in, or disallow others to support me - but because I choose to heal, make decisions and process things in a quiet and safe space, void of distraction and other people's energies.
But for some reason I was guided to share this story.
Maybe because this isn't the usual post from me. I choose not to keep low vibrational experiences and emotions alive and active for long. I process challenges well. I take the time I need, to feel and deal in the present - and then I leave the past where it belongs.
I certainly don't want sympathy, or to off-load my experiences onto anyone either. Maybe I'm just sharing because it shows that everyone has their 'things'. Nobody's lives are, what some perceive as, perfect. Or maybe it's to express that just because a person is 'Spiritual', they are still living here on Earth - having human experiences.
And human experience sometimes includes heartache and pain.
Maybe I'm guided to share this to share a part of me - because through connecting with you, you've shared so much of yourself with me. Maybe I'm sharing this in the essence of healing - for me, or for somebody that's been through a similar experience.
Maybe it's because in everybody else's busy lives, this event seemed insignificant - and as a Mother, I refuse for our baby to be forgotten. I don't hold onto the past, but I will never allow this experience that rocked our family, to be dismissed or undocumented. And so this story, in writing, is my legacy for Him - and for us.
But, you know - I'm still not really clear why. So I'm just going to do what I've been asked to do, and trust.
And so, to be blunt and honest and open and vulnerable, in an attempt to show all of me - I've been walking around for weeks, with a broken heart. I've been hurting. I've been crying. I've been a shell of myself. Even if I was wearing a smile.
And what I was holding close to my chest was the fact that I was still carrying our baby inside of me. Our baby that would not be entering the world the way they were supposed to. And that is not an easy thing to process.
I carried our baby within me - knowing that their soul had already left, yet their physical body remained. And as a human being, following the steps of nature - I had to physically part with my baby when my body decided it was time. Sure, I had the option of a medical procedure. But most of you know that would not be my first option. Nature knows what to do.
That choice was mine, and although the actual experience brought with it a tremendous amount of physical, mental and emotional pain - I knew it was the right decision. I was told I was 'strong' for choosing this way.
And it got me thinking; what makes a strong person?
I've discovered that it's far from what I used to believe. It's not about resilience. It's not about the fight. It's not even about courage. It's having the ability to surrender, when you feel like you need to have control.
Strength through surrendering.
"Sometimes these things just happen".
Wow, what a statement. What a thing to say to someone who was 1 week shy of sharing that there would be another life brought into the world...in 7 short months. After the scan, came the Doctors. And this is when the mental anguish deepened.
Dr; "Your blood test results from yesterday confirm you're pregnant."
Me; "Are you telling me the Radiographer could've made a mistake?"
Dr; "I can't suggest that", said the Dr smiling.
But far stronger than anger or blame - we felt hope.
We'd gone through so many emotions - back and forth from scan to Doctor to blood test and back to the Doctor again. On the edge of a cliff, waiting for one single word as an answer - pregnant or not. Yet, with all of this grief and pain and tension and impatience and frustration; I connected so easily and so deeply to my baby's spirit.
Especially before our final appointment. I sat down in the bottom of the shower, hands turned upwards on top of my knees, the water washing over me - and washing away my tears. I spoke with him and told Him that I knew He knew best. That I trusted his decision and that I would accept the outcome either way - whether he had decided to stay, or come back later. As male or female next time - it didn't matter to me.
That I would let go of trying to predict or control any of this situation, and would 'see' him again if he'd decided this wasn't the time - and I would 'see' him when the timing was perfect. Whether that was physically on Earth, or elsewhere.
Strength through surrendering.
Because I trust. I trust that there is something far more intelligent and wise that supports and guides us. That knows what's best for us.
I was confused at first though. I still felt pregnant. I was still having Morning Sickness everyday. But the second lot of blood tests confirmed that my HCG Pregnancy Hormone levels were decreasing. (And the nausea and vomiting that followed solidified that. A common side effect from the rapid increase or decrease in the Pregnancy Hormone HCG.)
And finally, I was told 2-3 weeks is how long it could take my body. A harsh reality - but reality nonetheless. The vision of having a family of 4 in September was decreasing. Any hope we'd had that there may have been a mistake - also decreasing.
"There is a unique pain that comes from preparing a place in your heart, for a child that never comes."
Am I angry? No.
Am I hurting? Deeply.
Am I confused? I had my moments.
Do I blame anyone? For a little while, myself.
(Why is blame such a quick emotion to skip to for us humans!?)
When will the hurt stop? I'm not sure.
Strength through surrendering.
So this swift moment between the eclipses, gave my little one an opportunity to re-evaluate his journey. And to show me a truth in my life. His presence as my Teacher, although short, was meant to highlight something for me. And although, of course, I would have much preferred to be writing another beautiful birth story in 6 months time - I feel His message is coming to light for me as the days go by. And it's supposed to be this way.
It's my message, and my message alone. But I'll share with you the common theme of the lesson he brought me. It's related to...