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I am on an elliptical orbit. I have consumed myself in a work and play combination that includes adventure, grind and passion. My oval shaped journey feels anything but linear. My daily life is repetition and destination has been hard to achieve. There is comfort in the familiarity that my community organizing challenges and the directing of a non-profit bring. There is peace in reconnecting with family and friends and laughing and cooking again. I fill up my days, hours and minutes with activity and people.
My orbit is held and propelled by the gravity of losing Lincoln. The sun that I circle is my relational life force. It is my constant existence of sorrow and life combined into a flaming ball. I need its danger. It burns in me hope and pain and exposes my very small presence in the universe and my desire that Lincoln not be my only child.
I am pregnant. The doctors say according to my HCG numbers I will likely miscarry. What do I do with this two pronged announcement that pierces through one side of my eager heart and re-stabs the other? Brock invited some of our favorite friends over this weekend for late nights, wine, cigars and lots of food. I cooked and talked a lot about the activity and ponderings of my orbit. I did not expose my sun. It is my sun. I like hording its drug affect as an addict not willing to share. How do you tell someone you are to miscarry? It’s 95% sure says the doctor. Silence is easier. One in four women remains silent.
If gravity, as Issac Netwon says, is a force, why do some objects like fertility attract to some couples and women and then defy that same force for others? I like Albert Einstein’s more advanced understanding of gravity better as the result of the curvature of space and time. While both definitions of gravity are widely held I see today how truth is present in this science. Mourning feels like gravity pulling all your insides out, charring them completely by the burning sun and pushing them back into a broken shell duck taped together by people who care. As days pass and my life progresses the straight line I try to walk with my own exertion is humbled by the space time curvature controlling my universe. I am on a geodesic path, a combination between the straight world line I want and the curved path in space and time that is my continuum to have and to accept.
Today Kai ritually enters the Christian family and Brock and I are his two baptismal sponsors. Kai was born the day after Lincoln. His Mom and I were pregnant together. We shared stories and met as couples at the theater on a regular basis. Our boys loved the sound of cinema and kicked to the beat. Lincoln’s birth story influenced the story of Kai. I met Kai when he was almost one month old. How strange to hold a baby that looked back at me with blinking focus. We were all reacquainted over ice cream last week. I was kind of hoping he wouldn’t be super cute. He was.
He is a beautiful baby boy with perfect features and a shining, full of life face. His smile is contagious and instantly attracts the heart in a new feeling of gravitational pull. He was wearing adorable orange and blue overalls and he seemed to love me. What a delight. I woke up this morning excited for the baptism. It will be the first time we return to church since the Christmas Eve service, the day before Lincoln died. There will be a hootenanny afterwards, and the daily on goings which make up my geodesic curved path will continue. I am completely and tearfully honored to stand for Kai this morning as his God parent. And so as I get ready with my brownies baking in the oven and I prepare to again circle my own blazing sun and to also have some fun. I genuinely look forward to light hearted conversations:
Oz: We should figure out what kinda deal this is. I mean, is it a-a gathering, a shindig or a hootenanny?
Cordelia: What’s the difference?
Oz: Well, a gathering is brie, mellow song stylings; shindig, dip, less mellow song stylings, perhaps a large amount of malt beverage; and hootenanny, well, it’s chock full of hoot, just a little bit of nanny.
Eva, you write so beautifully, which makes your painful experience all the more acute. I hope to be one speck of care, love and hope in your galaxy–one of so very many. Your strength is astounding, and your honesty is such a clear reflection of that fortitude. May G-d’s retraction of this baby, too, from the Devil be followed by the blessing you so greatly deserve. I hope today’s hootenanny warms your spirits!
I am at a loss for words Eva – do know you are in my thoughts and prayer’s. I look forward to following your journey. Love you both! Aunt Gayle
Such a blessing and hope to hear that you are carrying a tiny life within you…But how heavy and sorrowful to hear the doctor’s interpretation of what may be ahead. Please don’t ever feel like you have to be silent about anything…good, bad, or indifferent…though I can see what you mean that silence sometimes seems easier. Please know that I am here and I care. I love you guys and I’m praying.