TRIGGER WARNING: pregnancy & infant loss.
I speak about my daughter regularly. She often gets brought up in conversation when I'm asked about my tattoo or when I'm wearing her name around my neck. My sweet angel Nya who blesses me with big abuela energy; something she exuded throughout her time in my womb.
It feels good to be here now, thinking of her & experiencing sweetness. For a long time reminiscing felt heavy & mixed emotions would arise. Despite acknowledging that our experience unfolded divinely, at times grief was so active in my body that thinking of her would be followed by an overflowing stream of tears. It was something like cleansing waters continuously falling from my eyes, originating in the depths of my soul. I remember like it was yesterday, feeling so bogged down by grief that I questioned if I was ever going to rise above it.
What grounded me during these seasons?
My promise to Nya. My faith in God.
The moment the doctor told me they couldn’t find her heartbeat I looked up, saw butterflies bordering the room, and knew both God & her were present. Almost immediately I recognized the experience as redirection– moving me to something bigger, something greater, something more aligned and I also knew that before this liberation, I would have to move through a TON of emotions. For starters, I still had to give birth! My studies reminded me that I would have to discharge the trauma from my body and that wasn't going to happen overnight.
Even when it felt like a curse (because there were plenty of times I questioned being punished), I chose to believe that Nya not joining us earthside was a blessing. How could I see my experience as a gift while my emotions said otherwise? I was intentional about feeling my feelings, releasing the negative stories I was witnessing & chose to write more empowering ones. I gave myself space to be honest about the sensations passing through me and created containers where I could honor the totality of my experience. Yes, this is a blessing. Yes, this fucking hurts. It didn’t have to be one or the other. I leaned in & experimented with allowing it to be both. I recently looked back to something I wrote several months after her transition that I feel better explains what I mean.
Learning what it means to touch one’s suffering.
Placing hand on my heart, I offer myself the love I crave from others. After resting in this place for several moments which feel like an eternity, I am reminded of my ability to Source myself. And sourcing myself means getting closer to the pain. Not numbing or neglecting but being with it.
Tears stream down my face as I dive deeper into my body & stories stored within my tissues. SO. MUCH. PAIN.
Still, I whisper, “I got you” to my little girl. I tell her that I care about her suffering & am here to show her love, in her love language.
It may suck now but I got you & we’re going to be okay.
I can’t even begin to explain what it feels like to create & nurture life within your body for 9 months to then learn that life has died within you. It's even harder to speak to the amount of strength I had to draw upon to choose to give natural birth knowing it would be still. Maybe one day I’ll find the words but until then, I thank God (and her father) for reminding me that I was prepared to give birth to greatness because that belief helped me decide that the greatness I envisioned as my daughter would be something I was going to give birth to within myself.
Nya Reign reminds me to live out my truth as her name means purpose reigns supreme. She lives through me and inspires me to be my most authentic Self, to honor who I AM, and to respect what I incarnated on earth to do. She nudges me to lead with Love, to be Love, to make life a practice of Love. She tells me to BE everything I was meant to be; to shine, to be happy, to be joyous, to be free.
She is the sweetness, the nectar, the rainbows & the butterflies. She is the hummingbirds, honeybees, and oriental lilies. Nya is the sun, the moon, and my north star.
As I seal this entry, tears gather in my eyes and I’m back to those moments where it's a mixed bag of emotions. Gratefully, I know my greatest tool is the breath. So I return to the practice of finding & following my breath & I breathe deeply & intentionally. I send out prayers of gratitude for everything that has brought me to this now.
To my sweet girl, thank you.