Pregnancy During a Pandemic in a Poem

October is "Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month", which I didn't know about until this year. I started seeing posts on social media with people's stories, statistics and images to raise awareness. I never realized until recent years how common women experience issues with infertility. I learned that the rate of miscarriages is 1 in 4 pregnancies! It's not 1 in 4 women, but pregnancies. I also learned that 80% of miscarriages happen to women in the first stage of their first pregnancy.

When I experienced my first miscarriage towards the end of 2019, my medical release form called it a "medical abortion". Even though this was a "natural", no-one's-at-fault, and not by choice termination of pregnancy, the phrasing of it added to my feeling of heartsickness around the issue of abortion and our personal loss. In writing about and acknowledging pregnancy loss this month, we can't avoid the heart-wrenching reality of intentional miscarriage: the abortion of a life. The point of this post is not to write into the topic of abortion too heavily, but with so many women eager and desiring children, compiled with the unnecessary abortion of life by others, it pleads out its injustice into my heart. A question my husband and I have posed recently is: If it was your mother considering to abort you, what would you tell her about "pro-choice" and pro life?

The loss of life is not easy for anyone, whether by choice or by accident. In our situation, we only knew we were pregnant for about a week before it was over. Yet even in that short time of awareness, and with it being our first pregnancy, there was a surge of emotion and healing within it. At the sight of those two pink lines on the pregnancy test, we experienced excitement and fear, joy and uncertainty, blessing and doubt. The multitude of feelings surrounding a new life have no limitations, whatever the circumstances around them may be!

October is also a poetry month. I've used several Octobers, beginning with a writing course in college, where I've written one poem a day, every day, for the duration of October- 31 poems in total. Most of the poems weren't that great, but the discipline of writing something every day was helpful for me in building endurance and accomplishing a goal. This October, I am setting myself small goals to anchor me through writing and also in appreciating my season of pregnancy -- which feels long in the waiting, but one that I know will be short in comparison to the life-changing season of motherhood that is to come. I am certain that my experience is not a "normal" experience of pregnancy at all! At 34 weeks this week, I try to capture the experience I have had thus far in the following poem.

Pregnancy Awareness: This Is Different

Second pregnancy, but first child. I'm certain this is not everyone's experience.

A Miraculous Sight: the positive, double, pink lines.
Skeptical to feel excited, after the first excitement ended all too soon.

From the start of a global pandemic came the start of symptoms: nausea and "morning sickness"--
Why is it called "morning" sickness when it happens in the evening, in the afternoon, all day long?

Mysterious, Divinely-timed, Blessing-in-disguise:
This time of economic transformation, carrying a transforming child in my womb.

Uncertain about going back to the work field of Dance Instructor, wearing high heels and exercising 8-hour days. Talking and moving together feels impossible. Many days I sleep half the day away.

Ballroom Dance Studio closes temporarily: I'm furloughed. I'm unemployed. I'm uninsured.
We have a baby, who needs to be seen. 

Week 9 ultrasound confirms pregnancy; Week 22 ultrasound shows our developing child.
No doctor's visits in between. 

I don't dance. I swim. In the water, I swim away the stress of healthcare-in-crisis.
I pray for the health of our baby. In the Water, we are safe.

Social Distancing: We tell family and friends through phone, not in person. 

My husband and in-laws are the only ones who see me growing, week by week.
People ask, "Is it a boy or a girl?"

First Trimester, I remember many naps, adapting to wearing masks.
Second Trimester, I remember perfect California-Summer sunshine, swimming, lots of ice cream.

Third Trimester, more naps, greater anticipation, growing belly.

The first stranger to recognize my pregnant belly happens to be a Cashier at Trader Joe's.

Neighbors notice, here and there.
I outgrow my clothes.

A doctor warns me: if I get sick, women deliver their babies in the "covid units".
Doctors wearing space suits, no visitors allowed to accompany her.
Doctor wants to make sure I get a Flu vaccine. 

A virtual baby shower happening next week!
We're grateful to "see" family and friends, celebrating together. 

We're grateful for community. 
What will community look like for our newest family member, after birth?

Expectations for the Miraculous.

This is not everyone's experience.

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Have you, or someone close to you, experienced pregnancy loss? What was your experience like? How did you process the circumstances and the emotions? If you feel like you're still in process, try writing a poem! And if you find yourself needing a bit more support or other resources, leave a comment or email me. I'd love to be a listener for you in your journey.