A Precarious Balance Between Loss and Life
I wrote this after I had a miscarriage, before I became pregnant with my last child
Within the confines of my mind, I comfort myself with the reality of my predicament. The fact that what occurred is commonplace, that I am not alone, that I, together with thousands of other women who have shared the same experience, conceive again and continue to fill the world with beautiful children. The seeming lack of attachment to something still so new and hidden, not yet spoken about or shared, not yet peeking through or visible, is also supposed to be comforting, of sorts. Yet I can’t ignore the gnawing sense of loss that pervades deep within; as crimson waste pitifully leaves my body, shouting the word ‘empty’ into the recesses of my heart. I am sad about what was and what could have been.
That's not to say it won’t be in the future, but it simply isn't for the here and now. And then I realize the fragility of life before real life has even begun. The way we are ultimately not in control, although we spend so much time trying to assert our powerless efforts. Maybe this is G-d’s way of reminding me he is the Master of the universe, although how could I ever forget? And then I see my two beautiful, healthy children, and my heart gladdens again; I am warm with love, with care, with gratitude, with devotion. For them, my arms open wide, and I offer the world as much as I can give and even more. Although I have experienced loss, I am so grateful for the love that I have, and can give every day.