Just let go

When it rains, it pours. I know this. I must admit, my life is generally San Francisco weather, always sunny and in the 70’s. But these last couple of weeks…it is Seattle. I knew it was only a matter of time until things let up, but my optimistic point of view really took one for the team.

On one hand, since so many things happened at once, I don’t think I fully allowed myself to focus on everything, just the problem that weighed on me the most, that was the most up in the air, and held ether the most promise or the most dismay. And I was even too busy to focus on that problem.

I remember distinctly when I was in labor and having “disorganized contractions” (one long contraction without a single break for I don’t know how long) and when I finally succumbed to having an epidural. They told me they would have to push fluids into me quickly and that it was going to hurt. I’ll never forget looking at my hand, feeling the burning fluid rushing into my veins and into my hand and up my arm and thinking how it felt SO GOOD. It was just a distraction from the serious pain I had been in for hours. That is sort of how the compounding of problems worked for me.

Until today.

4 weeks ago I found out I was pregnant. I’d like to say we weren’t planning for it and we also weren’t not planning for it. We had been debating on another little one for a while and I kept saying for the past couple of months that it would be great if it just happened, so I wouldn’t actually have to decide. Wouldn’t you know, the universe decided for me. Either way I was nervous, excited, and planning for the future. From color schemes for the nursery to baby names.

Fast forward two weeks later and it is the night before my first appointment and ultrasound. I had an inexplicably nervous stomach. It came out of nowhere, but it was undeniable. I didn’t attribute it to anything, certainly not the pregnancy, just figured it was regular excitement/nerves for the appointment. I went to the appointment and started with the ultrasound. I always laugh at myself because I can never understand what I’m seeing at ultrasounds. I have to wait for the tech to specifically point things out before I know what’s going on. Yet, when the first image flashed up on the screen I knew what I was seeing wasn’t right.

The tech explained that (while I was supposed to be 8 weeks along ) I was measuring 6 weeks and they could see no fetus or heartbeat. The tech was extremely helpful and knowledgeable and, upon my persuasion, gave me her judgment that the pregnancy would not go any further, but that the doctor would most likely want to wait two weeks before really making any judgments. For these last two weeks I kept thinking that this had to be the worst part. Worrying that you are going to miscarry every second of everyday, and questioning every ache and pain you feel. My, how naïve that thought was.

This morning I had my follow-up ultrasound. It showed the same thing as two weeks ago, and I will be having a miscarriage (induced by modern medicine). Now, I felt like I had mentally prepared myself for this the last two weeks. I have wonderful friends and family who were all supportive yet brutally honest with me telling me I should mentally prepare for the miscarriage. Being a stupid woman, and an optimistic one at that, I still clung to hope. Even though this isn’t the perfect time for us to have the baby, I still wanted this so badly. More than I really knew I guess, because today has been one of the hardest days for me in a very long time. There is a Drew Barrymore movie in which there is a quote that says, “I don’t think we can ever really know or feel how much we love our children, because it would just kill us.” I understood that sentiment when I had Isaac, and now I know it from a completely different angle. To have this perfect little picture frame of the future in your mind, and to have the glass shattered on the ground in front of you for you to step on and cut yourself while you try and clean it up and  put the pieces back together.

Now, I know this happens to so many women, and that I can go on to have a normal pregnancy if I so choose, but those thoughts do not provide solace when you are in the midst of a storm.

I described to one of my friends during my last pregnancy how pregnancy can make you feel so alone and different, like you are going through things that no one else can fully understand or know how it feels (I think anyone can feel this way at some point). This experience has given a whole new level to that. I generally tend to turn inward when I am going through tough times, and not want to be around people, but for some reason my first instinct was to not be alone today. Yet, when I had multiple offers from people to keep me company, I just couldn’t bring myself to be around anyone. I went through bi-polar stages of cracking jokes in emails, to not being able to see through the tears. I am not used to being such a mess, so I’m hoping by just letting myself wallow in the sorrow for a while I will heal more quickly.

My sister forwarded me a poem that was read during her yoga class. I opened it and read the first line and started crying and closed it. Later tonight I pulled myself together and finished reading it. It was exactly what I needed. She has a knack for that, my wonderful sister.

I wanted to write about this to get it out. Purge it from my soul. Maybe now, or soon, it won’t weigh on me so heavily and the nature of my cheery personality and I can just let it go.

 

She Let Go (by Ernest Holmes)

She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.

She let go of the fear. She let go of the judgments. She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head. She let go of the committee of indecision within her. She let go of all the "right" reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn't ask anyone for advice. She didn't read a book on how to let go. She didn't search the scriptures. She just let go. She let go of all the memories that held her back. She let go of all the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn't promise to let go. She didn't journal about it. She didn't write the projected date in her Day-Timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn't check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. She just let go.

She didn't analyze whether she should let go. She didn't call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn't do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. She didn't call the prayer line.  She didn't utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.

There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn't good and it wasn't bad. It was what it was, and it is just that. In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the Sun and the Moon shone forevermore.