Goody Bye Baby

Two days ago, I lit a fire. On that fire I placed two blood stained pieces of cloth, the only remains I was given of our baby. Our baby who was dead before I had a chance to put my hand on the belly it lived in and say, 'I love you.' As a man, a man destined to be a father, I find it incredibly painful to be faced with the helplessness of having no control over whether a baby gets to live or die.

I lit this fire alone. I was not given the honour of being with my baby when it burned. Although at first I thought I was. Holding the two pads that had been used to catch the induced miscarriage, a dear, pregnant friend asked if she could see him. I opened them and stared at the empty, blood stained cloth. He had been removed by his mother before she sent me what I now had.

But there was more for the fire: an ultrasound of my blessed little peanut, two coins (I had no idea how significant this was at the time!) a bone, a card, and an amethyst tied with a hebrew symbol for life and a cowry shell. The shell turned to ash, the purple crystal turned clear, and life, life remained intact!

I am grateful for this day, this chance to say good bye, for closure, for endings, for new beginnings. My ceremony began on this day with a serendipitous encounter with an angel who gave me a gift of tarot - In the past the turbulent two of coins; in the future the promising two of cups. "You will find someone whose dreams harmonize with your dreams, whose nature harmonizes with your nature, it will be easy."

Oh ease! Oh harmony! Blessed be the gifts of this incredible pain. Thank you for the strength to carry on. Thank you for the deep lesson in life and love. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Thank you baby.

Good bye.

I will see you again.