His name was Eli

I like to think I'm a cheerful person, quick to laugh and always ready to smile, but we all have experiences. good and bad, that shape the person we see in front us. I feel as though I'm stalling along these words to tell my story. I stall for just a few more seconds of holding on. As a little, small voice, deep down inside, still says, "...why me?"

There I was laying on the cold, tile-like floor, regretting the tears that slid down my face, as I fought back down my insides trying to come out. I thought to myself, too much has come out of me today. Even these tears, I wished would stay within me, afraid that there'd be nothing left of me if they kept flowing. Knowing what had left me could never be returned and so I simply allowed myself to cry. What seemed like hours, days even, wasn't. Helpless only begins to describe the emotions I felt that afternoon as I walked out into a day where the sun shone brighter than it ever had. I was repulsed that nature would spit in my face with such a perfect scenery. The sun was warm, but not so warm that it burnt like most days, instead it was a cool warm. It taunted me with blue skies and a chilly, early spring breeze across my moistened skin. I even remember the walk I made to the car. Slow, deliberate, heavy considering I should have felt lighter. The fog of clarity couldn't veil the truth that there was nothing that could bring back my baby.

I never knew if it was a boy or girl, but he was my Eli. In my dreams, he had ten fingers, ten toes and long slim legs and, man, he was so smart and brave. We lived somewhere nice where he could play outside and go over to a friend's house and he'd come running home before the sun set. Sadly, my realities were of nausea and relentless pain. So terribly ill that even though I knew I couldn't have morning sickness, I was throwing up nonetheless. The hurt hit me so hard, so fast, I almost thought in that moment I would dissolve, better yet, explode into a cloud of dust. But, none of these things happened, even when I wished they would. Even when I prayed they did. It never happened. I just kept on. I kept on smiling, laughing, living. I rarely shared my story because, honestly, I wasn't ready for a reaction. Sympathy, empathy, sadness, hope, I wasn't ready for any it. A part of me wanted to forget, bringing more anger, more resentment, more hurt.

But, as the saying goes, with time all wounds heal. So that emotional time as I lay on my yoga mat and my teacher said you must begin to accept yourself. This was me in that moment. That moment that made me realize I had to accept all of me, every inch. That moment, also, allowed me to forgive. I had to forgive the part of me that couldn't hold on to my baby. And as I look at my two beautiful daughters, I think maybe Eli was just making room for my heart to love them even more.

"Woman is the Radiance of God. She is not a Creature, she is the Creator." -Rumi