Since March 1st, I’ve driven to 11 auditions, 19 medical appointments (5 not for me), 5 birthday parties, and about 6 play dates. I got through Spring Break!
In the vast amount of driving I’ve been doing, I’ve noticed a lot of bird nests in our city. So much so that I started thinking about nests, the many people that I love that are having or had babies this year (10+), and about my own past season of nesting.
The first time I ever had a pregnancy confirmed, my OB-GYN told me she suspected I was having an ectopic pregnancy, which was dangerous and not viable. I was sent to do several tests and at my 3rd ultrasound, I was told that I was pregnant with twins. The concern about the ectopic pregnancy was no longer a worry and we were elated.
After our struggle with (in)fertility for a few years, the news of twins felt like we would get to catch up with a 2 for 1 deal. What (Asian) person doesn’t appreciate a good deal, right?
On my 18-week ultrasound, the technician asked me if I had experienced any bleeding or any other symptoms since my last ultrasound. After I said no, I asked the tech why he was asking. He then informed me that he had only found one baby and could not find twins.
I was later told that there’s this thing called Vanishing twin syndrome that is apparently quite common. Because the body is in nurturing mode and is still pregnant, instead of having any bleeding like a miscarriage, the body absorbs the fetus that is no longer viable. There is no known cause, just a disappearance. I had zero symptoms and broke down in front of the poor tech that had no idea how to respond. I asked for him to allow my husband in the room and broke into deeper sobs as I blurted out the news to him.
I stayed in bed for a few days unable to stop crying. The night we found out the news, my husband had previously invited two friends who were fans of a rival hockey team, to watch a hockey game against their team at our house. He asked if he should cancel but I didn’t mind, as long as I got to stay in bed. Throughout the night, he would come in to check on me and at one point, he poked his head into our bedroom door, asked if I was okay, and told me our hockey team was losing. I responded with, “Why do you think I’m crying?”
My battle with infertility was a rough and emotional roller coaster. Grieving my lost twin was difficult. People around me didn’t know how to respond and I would often hear, “Well there’s still one.” I had heard this a few times and one day a co-worker said it and I snapped, “If you lost one of your kids would that comfort you? Well, you still have one?” It wasn’t nice of me, and she was meaning well, but I snapped.
I was in this weird emotional place. I was in a new season of hope and celebration, but I was also in a season of loss and terrifying fear. I hadn’t had a successful pregnancy at that point and had no assurance that I would.
Even though over a decade has passed as I write this, it is still surprising me how much less painful it is now to share about this journey.
Four days after my daughter’s due date, I was induced for labour. When I was in the hospital, I opted for an epidural, but the epidural met my twisted back and was blocked. Several hours into the night, my doctor came to ask if I had any sleep. I explained that I had not, because I was still experiencing each contraction as my epidural seemed blocked. He sent for the anesthesiologist to re-administer my epidural and I was able to have a few hours of sleep before it was “go” time.
The time spent in the labour and delivery room was so full of opposites. Waiting, anticipating, fearing, joy, pain, (sometimes) rest, and then there’s the pushing. It feels like forever during the wait, but when it’s over, I can barely remember the waiting part.
My labour experiences came to mind when I saw all these bird nests on my drives this past month. A nest is a bird’s labour and delivery room. I’m not sure if birds experience the other parallel’s of joy and pain, but there’s definitely preparing, waiting and anticipating.
Labour and delivery comes with a certain level of intensity, fluidity, and surrender. And even though I’m not in a labour and delivery room, I am meditating on being in a state of intensity, fluidity and surrender again.
Thank you for being patient as I’ve neglected to post on my blog. With my fluidity, I’ve had days I’ve volunteered at my kids’ school that was an anticipated 30 minutes that became 4 hours over the course of two days. Volunteering lead to some conversations, and conversations lead to some, “how can I help” moments, others, “how can I pray” moments, and another lead to a lunch.
An e-mail from our agent leads to changing plans, making new plans, driving to an audition, and hopefully it leads to more. I am thankful for these opportunities, and I can’t explain what I am anticipating besides physical and emotional healing, but I’m trying to prepare my heart for increased fluidity and surrender.