This afternoon I was lying down and the baby started moving. Every so often it goes on this wild rampage around my uterus and I can't help but wonder, "What is it doing in there?"
I don't mean what is it doing physically. Obviously there's an assortment of kicking, punching and squirming going on. What I really wonder is what does it think it's doing? When it just moves a bit I assume it needed to shift to get comfortable, but when there's a long string of rapid thumps that move across the inside of my belly, then back again, then a big lump slides down the side, then there's a swift jab to my bladder, I can't help but think that it's up to something. Like it's got a plan.
I never really thought the Baha'i concept of death would be on my mind so much while waiting to give birth. But the comparison to birth, the one that we use to describe what it's like for a soul to die, keeps flipping back and forth in my mind when it comes to my baby. It has expanded beyond an analogy for what it's like to change forms of existence. Now it keeps me thinking about what it's like to be alive.
For example, if we are developing spiritual attributes in this life with no concept of what they'll be used for in the next, what does the baby think of the physical attributes it's developing right now? Is it wiggling around thinking it's got this hand and foot thing figured out, like we sometimes think we understand love or compassion? If so, what does it think hands and feet are for? And when we think we're being spiritually awesome, is there anyone in the realm of the spirit shaking their head and wondering what we think we're up to?
What does the baby think the umbilical cord is for if it has no concept of nutrition or oxygen? Is our understanding of prayer just as limited?
What does it think the placenta is? What does it think sound is? When it swallows amniotic fluid what does it think it's doing if it doesn't know it will someday have to drink? When it goes on a big kicking spree does it think it's doing important work, like when we do a bunch of overtime at our jobs?
It's hard to comprehend that the baby doesn't know who I am. For now I am not understandable as another person, only as a habitat. What does the baby think the habitat is doing when I poke my belly in response to some kicks? Do we get spiritual pokes and not know what they are?
Finally, I have to ask the really big question. Why, exactly, does the baby think it's so important to punch me in the bladder?
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
Monday, November 06, 2017
Birth and Death
This past winter a video popped up on social media of Baha'i actor Justin Baldoni giving a talk that left me sobbing. It was called "What if Birth and Death are Actually the Same?"
The Baha'i views on life after death have been familiar to me for as long as I can remember, and truth be told, Baldoni wasn't saying anything I didn't already know. 'Abdu'l-Baha spoke extensively about the concept of death being like when we are born into this world. In the world of the womb we spend our time developing everything we need to live in this world such as arms, legs, eyes, ears, etc. We don't know what they're for or have any idea how important they'll be. When our birth happens it is a great shock for us since we cannot imagine a world beyond what we have known. But what we find is a world far bigger, brighter and more wondrous than we could have ever comprehended. When the Baha'i Writings talk about death, they talk about it in the exact same way that they talk about birth. Instead of growing physical attributes we grow the spiritual ones we will need to live in the world of the spirit.
What brought me to tears was the story Baldoni told at the end of his talk about his daughter's birth, and his realization that it would not be the last time he welcomed her into a new world. My father and I had talked many times about the similarity between birth and death. Hearing the vivid description of a father's perspective, and his eager anticipation for the day when he could be there as she entered the spiritual world, brought to mind what my own father's perspective must have been.
At the time I was feeling a double dose of grief. I had had to say goodbye to my father and was also trying to come to terms with not being able to have children. For us it wasn't just that birth and death were similar, it was also the illnesses associated with them that overlapped. During the years that he was going through cancer treatment I was being treated for infertility. We would commiserate about needles and doctors and side effects. The endless appointments, how both problems just take over your life, and the uncertainty of where it was all going. There was always a cautious hope that he would get a treatment that would keep him in this world a while longer and I would get one that would bring a new life to meet him.
By the time that video came out both of those hopes were gone. My father had been dead for nearly a year, and after five years of trying to have children, my husband and I were too drained to try anymore. When I heard that story being told I had to realize that I could only ever be on one side of it. My father could welcome me into this world when I was born, and he would welcome me into the next world when I die, but I would never be able to welcome a child after me. Reflecting on the Baha'i teachings at that time was bitter sweet, as it brought both an anticipation for the world to come and a more vivid awareness of what was missing in this life.
All of this came back several months later when, to our tremendous shock, it turned out a baby was living in the world of my womb without any medical assistance whatsoever. As time went by I started to think again about the similarity between birth and death. This baby was totally unaware of what exists in this world, yet was only an inch away from it. He or she was growing lungs with no knowledge of air, a mouth with no understanding of food, eyes with no concept of light. And we in this world and eagerly watching as it grows, anticipating its arrival.
I watched the video again today and spent some time re-reading some of the Writings on the subject. Preparing for a birth makes me think again and again about death. After the past few years I don't think I'll ever again be able to separate the two in my mind. If this is how close this child is to this world, think just how close we are to the next.
The Baha'i views on life after death have been familiar to me for as long as I can remember, and truth be told, Baldoni wasn't saying anything I didn't already know. 'Abdu'l-Baha spoke extensively about the concept of death being like when we are born into this world. In the world of the womb we spend our time developing everything we need to live in this world such as arms, legs, eyes, ears, etc. We don't know what they're for or have any idea how important they'll be. When our birth happens it is a great shock for us since we cannot imagine a world beyond what we have known. But what we find is a world far bigger, brighter and more wondrous than we could have ever comprehended. When the Baha'i Writings talk about death, they talk about it in the exact same way that they talk about birth. Instead of growing physical attributes we grow the spiritual ones we will need to live in the world of the spirit.
What brought me to tears was the story Baldoni told at the end of his talk about his daughter's birth, and his realization that it would not be the last time he welcomed her into a new world. My father and I had talked many times about the similarity between birth and death. Hearing the vivid description of a father's perspective, and his eager anticipation for the day when he could be there as she entered the spiritual world, brought to mind what my own father's perspective must have been.
At the time I was feeling a double dose of grief. I had had to say goodbye to my father and was also trying to come to terms with not being able to have children. For us it wasn't just that birth and death were similar, it was also the illnesses associated with them that overlapped. During the years that he was going through cancer treatment I was being treated for infertility. We would commiserate about needles and doctors and side effects. The endless appointments, how both problems just take over your life, and the uncertainty of where it was all going. There was always a cautious hope that he would get a treatment that would keep him in this world a while longer and I would get one that would bring a new life to meet him.
By the time that video came out both of those hopes were gone. My father had been dead for nearly a year, and after five years of trying to have children, my husband and I were too drained to try anymore. When I heard that story being told I had to realize that I could only ever be on one side of it. My father could welcome me into this world when I was born, and he would welcome me into the next world when I die, but I would never be able to welcome a child after me. Reflecting on the Baha'i teachings at that time was bitter sweet, as it brought both an anticipation for the world to come and a more vivid awareness of what was missing in this life.
All of this came back several months later when, to our tremendous shock, it turned out a baby was living in the world of my womb without any medical assistance whatsoever. As time went by I started to think again about the similarity between birth and death. This baby was totally unaware of what exists in this world, yet was only an inch away from it. He or she was growing lungs with no knowledge of air, a mouth with no understanding of food, eyes with no concept of light. And we in this world and eagerly watching as it grows, anticipating its arrival.
I watched the video again today and spent some time re-reading some of the Writings on the subject. Preparing for a birth makes me think again and again about death. After the past few years I don't think I'll ever again be able to separate the two in my mind. If this is how close this child is to this world, think just how close we are to the next.
Sunday, October 29, 2017
Two Years Later ...
It's been two years since I've touched this blog. Not the longest stretch I've had but pretty significant. These past two years have been filled with enormous upheaval and change.
At the time of my last post I was in the early stages of a pregnancy that had not been announced. It didn't last. A miscarriage happened near the end of 2015.
My father continued to decline in early 2016 and, eventually, we were given the news that the cancer had transformed into a more aggressive kind of cancer. Six days later we said goodbye and he passed away to the Abha Kingdom. While his death was peaceful, the following months were painful and confusing for our family.
One of the things that we went through in those months was another pregnancy loss. That pregnancy hadn't lasted as long and the last one but I was drained by the end. Both pregnancies had been achieved through some fairly serious medical intervention so the time, energy, and emotion that went into them went well beyond the weeks of the actually pregnancies.
2016 was a pretty painful year.
This year has been a time of trying to put myself back together. A lot of life had been neglected during all that tragedy. It's an ongoing process but at least there has been a break from the avalanche of loss. And after all that, this year has brought a blessing I had started to think I'd never see.
I am now six month pregnant.
At the time of my last post I was in the early stages of a pregnancy that had not been announced. It didn't last. A miscarriage happened near the end of 2015.
My father continued to decline in early 2016 and, eventually, we were given the news that the cancer had transformed into a more aggressive kind of cancer. Six days later we said goodbye and he passed away to the Abha Kingdom. While his death was peaceful, the following months were painful and confusing for our family.
One of the things that we went through in those months was another pregnancy loss. That pregnancy hadn't lasted as long and the last one but I was drained by the end. Both pregnancies had been achieved through some fairly serious medical intervention so the time, energy, and emotion that went into them went well beyond the weeks of the actually pregnancies.
2016 was a pretty painful year.
This year has been a time of trying to put myself back together. A lot of life had been neglected during all that tragedy. It's an ongoing process but at least there has been a break from the avalanche of loss. And after all that, this year has brought a blessing I had started to think I'd never see.
I am now six month pregnant.
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