And, Life moves on.

Thus, my tale of loss comes to an end.
Because I have to start again,

This last pregnancy – my third in four years – was both
challenging, and invigorating.

This brief energy that visited my womb brought with it the urgency
of awaking before dawn every morning so that this morning bird,
& the someone whom I have always been, can sing.

My morning song greets a setting moon;
the bright stars, Sirius and Aldebaron, twinkling in Canis Major
and Taurus the Bull; as well as a rising sun.
Padding out into our yard, my feet sink into the moment.
Sometimes, I pull up a chair and take a seat.

I gaze,
and my eyes feast.

I remember that I am Alive.
And that I am Here to Create.

With ample time for solitude and my own mix of morning meditation,
I write and I work, I sing and sometimes I dance or stretch.
I unfold in the quiet of a day’s coming to.


Sharing the many steps and processes of my journey with a wider community, via
social media, has been healing in and of itself.

And, one of the greatest healing supports that I have received, since miscarrying on November 3rd,  is when women have reached out to me to say #metoo, and then shared parts or all of their own stories with pregnancy loss.

Truly, we are not alone.

So, perhaps, my story ends, where yours begins.

What’s your pregnancy loss tale?

Let us unite through the pain and power of our losses,
as we simultaneously normalize death as well as other 
natural processes.