Pour Me Another Glass of Lemonade

Well it has been about three and a half months since my last post. A lot has transpired since then. I am overjoyed to report that I am 24 weeks pregnant with twins. I am unbelievably sad to report that one of our babies is going to die. At our 18 week appointment, our perinatologist confirmed that Baby A is a perfectly healthy baby girl. Unfortunately, he also found numerous cysts on Baby B's kidneys. Because her (at least that is the best guess for sex so far) kidneys are not functioning properly, she has very little amniotic fluid around her. Amniotic fluid is what makes lungs develop. Babies don't need lungs in the womb because the placenta does the work for them. However, as soon as they are born, the lungs need to do their thing. Since Baby B will barely have any lung development, she will not be able to breathe and therefore live. She may die in utero or make it to birth and die shortly afterward. Yes, it's shocking. If you know my story, you know that it doesn't seem fathomable that someone who has gone through so much is not only facing another loss, but the biggest one of her entire journey.

At the beginning of my pregnancy, I felt paralyzed in the sense that could not make myself work on my art. Part of it was that I had morning sickness day and night up until about 15 weeks and part of me didn't want to jinx anything by painting or blogging. I finally had an idea and was set to start painting when we got the news about our Baby B. I have so much to write, so much to paint. Just finally being pregnant in and of itself was an emotional roller coaster, but now as I straddle the world of the pregnant and the infertile, trying to celebrate the incredible life of Baby A and mourn the incredible loss that awaits us with Baby B, I again find myself paralyzed when it comes to knowing what my heart needs me to paint. I am trying to remind myself that I have a lifetime to get it all down on paper and that all of it cannot be explicated in one day. So I share my first painting after my long hiatus, hoping that anyone who sees it will understand that this is just one very tiny fleck of all that encompasses my joy and sorrow.

This painting represents one of the many gifts resulting from my pregnancy. As is evident from a few of my other posts (e.g., Human Reproduction, Bodily Forgiveness), I have been working hard on believing in my body after it has let me down numerous times in the past in regards to trying to get and stay pregnant. With each day my belly gets a little more ginormous and I become more and more confident that this time, even in spite of the upcoming loss of Baby B, my body is a strong body. My body is carrying two babies and it knows what it's doing. My body is mushy and rotund just like I've always wanted. My body has what it takes to do the most incredible thing humanly possible. I love it so much, finally. 

This painting was inspired by the brilliant mother of all midwives, Ina May Gaskin, and a quote from her book Ina May's Guide to Childbirth. "Remember this, for it is as true as true gets: Your body is not a lemon. You are not a machine. The Creator is not a careless mechanic. Human female bodies have the same potential to give birth as aardvarks, lions, rhinoceri, elephants, moose, and water buffalo. Even if it has not been your habit throughout life so far, I recommend you learn to think positively about your body."