March on!

Life is a whirlwind and I can’t keep up.

I haven’t written for over a month, and I think it is because I wasn’t quite sure what to say…I didn’t have words to string together to tell this story of mine. But I feel like my feet are touching the ground again, so here is an update on where things are at.

We have found a new home. We will be moving in January to a new place so that we are closer to family and community supports, and it will be a fresh space to bring little Rainbow to. The new house has filled me with excitement and a great distraction from my anxiety and stress. Packing and moving feels daunting but much more doable than surviving a long pregnancy after a loss. I feel like anything is better than getting through those months.

Secondly, our little Rainbow is doing well. We found out the sex of the baby (which we have never done with our previous children) and we found out we are expecting a little girl! I am over the moon with gratitude to the universe for such a wonderful blessing. I am still stunned at this news and still feel doubt in my heart until we see another ultrasound confirming this but for now, I am grateful for these two big moments.

Rainbow has had me thinking a lot about Manav…I am thinking about him so much and his role in our family. I feel like he is older in my mind now; he feels like my guardian angel who knows me intimately and who hears my heart’s thoughts. I feel like he is sending us all this joy and love and it is knocking me down. I feel unprepared for these positive feelings; I don’t think I’ve ever felt so excited and confident in my life before! It scares me to death though…but I strangely don’t doubt it the way I used to.

I feel like I am evolving…I am shedding my skin and growing into something else that I don’t know what will look like. My mind is processing so much and I am exhausted each day. I feel like whatever it is that I am turning into, it is a good thing.

The new house is very symbolic for me. It is a symbol of rebirth, victory, letting go and the future. It is a symbol of Manav’s love for us – a shelter we desperately need from the grief we have been carrying on our backs. The house represents my hopes and dreams of “growing up” and the permanency of being a homeowner steadies me. I feel ready to lay down roots there and to let the house be the home base for our future life chapters.

I like to imagine my children playing together in the new home, I like to picture Avi doing his homework there, or snuggling up to watch a movie at night. I imagine Christmases, family dinners, regular days, exciting days, dreadful days and all the days we experience in between. When I think of my kids together, Manav is in the picture too, but more about my internal thoughts about him (if that makes sense). Like, when I imagine seeing my son and daughter playing in the backyard, in my imagination, I feel Manav’s spirit on my chest, as though he is a silent child who is forever wrapped against me but quietly watching the world go by and we are both linked and aware of each other. I always feel his energy against my chest like that, where my memorial necklace for him sits. I think of him when I’m angry, or frustrated, and he is my witness to my life without him in it. He sees my struggle, he sees me victorious, he sees me missing him. He knows he is a part of this family and it comforts me so much. I no longer feel the desperation to “include” him anymore; he is always there.

Christmas is coming up and I feel the weight of his absence increasing with each day. I know it will hurt when Avi celebrates opening presents alone, for last year we happily dreamed of two children in 2016. So we have decided that every Christmas we will buy Manav a present and will donate it to a child his age in the community. It gives us peace and it spreads love.

I finish work on January 6th and I cannot wait. My heart is not at work anymore…I don’t care anymore. I just want to be home with my thoughts and nest in my new home. I want to leave the house that I lost my baby in. I want to leave it all there because it just reminds me of the experience and not of Manav himself. Those memories of him are internal and I have them anywhere. But when I see his half-painted bedroom, or I open the closet and I see his clothes, diapers and supplies that I was on the verge of setting up just days before we lost him – it crushes me. It is a bitter, painful stab in the heart and I don’t need that. I don’t like remembering that jolt of the brakes in my life. I rather remember the kicks from him, or the sweet smell of his skin, his tiny fingers and serious pout. I like to remember his soft hair, or the way he bounced around in me when I ate ice cream. I miss him.

No matter what happens in the day, no matter how good or how bad, the sun sets and rises right on time and there is nothing we can do to stop it. So I rather march on holding my angel against my heart, my toddler by my side, and my rainbow in my womb. Nobody will stop this mother from surviving for her kids.


2 thoughts on “March on!

  1. I haven’t visited in a little while, so I didn’t realise you were having a rainbow baby! Congratulations!

    Your writing continues to be beautiful, and to put words to the feelings I have, but can’t express properly.


  2. Your story is an inspiration to me. I know exactly what you mean when you feel Manav as a guardian angel, I feel just the same about Jovan. My heart is not in my work either, and we’ll be moving in the new year too. I can feel your love for all your children in your words, and wish you lots of joy and happiness in your new home 💗


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