Here I sit, at 37 weeks and 5 days pregnant. Still pregnant. It's Isobella's time now.
I say that with a great amount of emphasis. It's Isobella's time now I say. We've passed a big point now. Josie would have died yesterday. I would have held her overnight and then given her to the funeral director this morning at about 10am.
I cannot properly express what a huge milestone every minute - every second really - since yesterday morning at 7.56am (well, earlier, when she died) has been. This is new time now - Isobella's time, all of her own. This is a new passage of time not written by her sister. The time which was spent by Josie as well was by no means a horrible time, of course, but it was poignant - so very poignant. My body remembered every minute of the day since conception and told me "at this point in Josie's pregnancy..."
Now my body has take steps into a new place. I am in a big field at the end of a beautiful forest and I can see a new sunrise coming up over an enormous valley. The grass is green underfoot and the atmosphere is fresh; light and covered in dew like a new spring day. I can look behind me and see Josie; almost see me sitting on a rock some 30 feet away, cradling her in the pre-dawn glimmering. Then I can look ahead to the sun, shimmering over the horizon and bathing me in warmth. My belly is alive - it's full of this little baby who like her sister, is vital, but, unlike he sister, is going to come out whole, and healthy...
She is going to open her eyes and see what I see...so it is good that I am here, in this beautiful place. It's good that I made the choices I made to ensure we ended up here, and not at the bottom of a big, black pit.
I know that my time with her in my belly is limited now - not long now until she comes out. And come out, she will, in her own time, induced or not. I don't think it matters any more if I am induced or not: I will, and she will still work in harmony and we will prevail together as mother and daughter.
I can't believe how far we've come. This pregnancy has been amazing: so quick, yet so slow in so many ways. Looking back to the beginning, it seems like such a long time ago - so far away from now. But, then I think of the interim, which I have spent mostly trying to do worthwhile things, and can remember all of the days as though they were yesterday. Now here we are, she and I, full term and ready to embark on a wonderful new chapter in life.
And you know what? The most incredible, amazing thing is this: many people feel cynical about life - they believe that being positive involves rose-tinted glasses and denial. But I can tell you now, sitting here, that it's not true. Life IS beautiful. Life IS amazing. You've got to find the courage to surrender to that fact and admit it to yourself - acknowledge that there are things you cannot control. So don't try.
The secret is this: let go of all but the most real things. Your family; your babies, living and in the beyond; sunsets; sunrises; the spread of the earth; true friendships; an apple from a tree. All these things are real. You will always have these things if you choose to nurture and cultivate them rather than choosing the other, unreal things. So, in essence, we all have everything we need...for free. We have the meaning of life in our hands and in our hearts every single day. Just got to let go...and let understanding in: and it will come in.
And as I sleep, wake, go on, making Isobella's time here today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, I feel reality more and more. Smells are coming back to me. Sounds are coming back...my senses are waking up again and it feels...amazing.
Tonight, I'm up later than usual because my friend B is having her baby boy as we speak. She lost her son, Duncan, last year and now here she is, birthing her new little one and with him, all time from then onward - a new time. This event has infused through to me across the grand web of life that covers the Earth and now, I can't sleep. Instead, I am sitting here listening to some birthing music and just...
...being with her and her little boy tonight, as the page turns.
Perhaps I won't go to sleep until he is born. Perhaps I will, and will dream of his birth.
Either way, I will be treading the same path very soon. Isobella and I...