No pictures today, no food. I am heartsick. A blogger friend had her baby girl, Lillian Grace, earlier this week, at just 22 weeks, who took a few breaths before she left this world. Yet another reminder of just how tenuous this whole pregnancy thing is.
Just three and a half months ago or so, a while after I'd been diagnosed as IF by my ob/gyn, before I was pregnant myself, I'd sent Rebecca a package with tea for nursing mothers, and some Belly Bars, thinking positive thoughts about her pregnancy, maybe pinning my hopes on her new life if I wasn't going to be able to produce my own. I was happy for her, in a way that I wasn't even able to be happy for my first-time-pregnant colleagues, who were everywhere at the time. I followed her blog, watching her belly expand.
It was hard to read her news today. I still have a lump in my throat that I can't quite swallow.
Another (real life) friend, who reads this blog, had a stillborn baby before her two successful pregnancies. She is an amazing mother and a thoughtful, insightful, compassionate friend, and I thought about her this morning, too, and her own lost child, reading all of the outpouring of love and support for Rebecca, wishing again that I'd been a better friend to her back then, grateful for all of her support through my own losses and now my pregnancy.
Today, this is what I'm thinking: we need to be kind to each other. We need to be able to talk about (or at least be present to) sad, unimaginable things in the way that we celebrate the joyful ones, to remember the losses as we remember the birthdays, not because we should dwell on what is depressing, but because death is a part of life. We are such strange, half-invisible creatures sometimes, hiding our shadows.
Though the Bhagavad Gita tells us not to feel sorrow because death is inevitable, part of the great cycle of life, I believe that as much as we can cultivate detachment, we are still human. And to me, while maybe detachment is a good thing sometimes, part of living is also cultivating that connection to others that will allow us to feel joy and pain together, that makes us realize, perhaps a little bit differently, how we're part of the interconnected web of being that the Gita also describes.