Category Archives: Uncategorized

Holy Unleashing of Love

I’m just back from South America, where I co-hosted my first grief workshop for parents whose children have died. Because I promoted the workshop amongst all of my networks in the region, especially to mothers who I knew had had miscarriages or stillbirths, many people asked me how it went. Honestly, it was magical. Not so much the workshop itself, but the process of planning this experience and particularly the days leading up to it that I spent with my doula, Julieta.

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Endless Comparisons: Life on a Measuring Stick

Well, life is still just a fucking roller coaster, ain’t it? In any given moment I might be feeling prfound gratitude for the innumerable gifts that Rafa gave us all with his fleeting existence, and the next I’m crying in an airport, surrounded by toddlers. One afternoon I may be indignant and angry about all I’ve ‘been through’ this past year and the next I find myself in a lethargic, depressive state, asking: why I am still here? Through it all, one constant that I keep discovering is the tendency to compare and measure. I’m quite curious about the persistent and perseverant nature of comparisons: why do they appear as part of my daily thinking?

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El Camino Sorprendente e Impredecible del Duelo que Nunca Termina

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Recordar es bastante constante en estos tiempos. Pensar: “a esta hora el año pasado, estaba… estábamos…”. El último día de trabajo. Las fotos de la panza. Pintar el cuarto del bebé. El baby shower. Llegó la dula. Cita con las parteras en la casa. La última clase del curso de amamantamiento. Los suegros de visita. El pozo de recuerdos, remordimientos y nostalgia me dificulta estar presente en 2019. Siempre he sido así con los detalles que pasaron en cierto día, en cierto año… incluso a una hora en particular. Se siente como una bendición y una maldición al mismo tiempo –este año más que nunca.

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The Surprising and Unpredictable Path of Grief that Never Ends

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It’s pretty constant now. The remembering. My thinking: “At this time last year, I was… we were…” Last day of work. Belly photos. Nursery painting. Baby shower. Doula arrives. Midwives’ appointment at the house. Last breastfeeding class. In-laws come for a visit. The pull of memories, regrets and nostalgia make it  challenging for me to stay present in 2019. I’ve always been like this about the details of what happened on a certain day, in a certain year… even at a particular hour. It feels like a blessing and a curse – this year more than ever.

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Not Knowing

Not quite sure why I’m here today. Over the past months, I’ve come to the blank page with a question, theme, feeling or relationship in mind. But today I am in a place of not knowing what will come out here. You see… there’s actually so much. I’ve been chewing on a number of things these past months. It has been a time of rich learning, growth, reflection, connection, meaning-making and meaning-breaking. A time of much movement all over this hemisphere.

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Amándonos… ¡Aún Más!

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En mi experiencia, el nacimiento de un bebé muerto puede pasarle la factura a las relaciones. Puede ser particularmente difícil dentro de la relación de la pareja. Para mí, justo después de la muerte y nacimiento de Rafael estaba pasando tanto al nivel emocional para todos alrededor de nosotros. Cada persona estuvo procesando el choque, el duelo y solidaridad de forma propia y a su propio ritmo. Y nuestros procesos tuvieron encuentros íntimos entre ellos, se entrelazaron y a veces chocaron… hasta el punto en que a veces fue difícil saber a quién pertenecían cuáles sentimientos. Al fin de cuentas, hubo una emoción que se profundizó y un campo que se amplió entre Yeyo y yo: el AMOR.

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Loving Each Other… EVEN MORE!

Read this post in Spanish.

In my experience, stillbirth takes its toll on relationships. It can be especially difficult on the intimate partnership or marriage of the bereaved parents. For me, in the immediate wake of Rafael’s death and birth, there was so much happening on the emotional level for everyone around us. Each person was processing shock and grief and solidarity in their own way, at their own rhythm. And our processes had intimate encounters, intertwined and sometimes clashed with one another… to the point that sometimes it was even difficult to know which feelings belonged to whom. Through it all, there was a feeling and a field that deepened and widened between Yeyo and I: LOVE.

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