Sunday, June 17, 2012
I saw the movie "What to expect when you're expecting" last night. It was fabulous, although I couldn't have watched it a couple of years ago. It's about having a baby and chronicles 4 different women and their journeys. I saw so many facets of our journey in the movie...
One young girl falls pregnant after a night of passion with someone she's not even dating. She tells the boy and after some trial and tribulation they reach a space where they are together and even celebrating the pregnancy. She wakes one night and is miscarrying. At this point I started crying (and my beautiful movie-date friend, sensing why I was crying started crying too). It was because of the face. This young actress has either miscarried or knows someone close who has because she nailed it. The look of knowing in your head that you are miscarrying while hoping against hope in your heart that you are not. The movie caught her in the moment between realizing that she was bleeding and the confirmation from the doctor that she was miscarrying. That suspended period of time where you can keep the reality at bay because it's not confirmed. The moment where hope is fiercely ablaze even while the rain drops start falling.
Then there was another face. This was the story of a couple of could not conceive and had decided to adopt. They traveled to Ethiopia and in a beautiful ceremony, the new mother was handed her child. I know her face too and again I just cried. The face where awe and reverence are tangled up with relief and breakthrough. Where a love ignites, beyond anything you imagined. The face of a lioness emerges who will protect and nurture and encircle. I loved seeing her face. For me this was a private face, between my boy and I.
And finally there was another face. A face at the end of childbirth where the mother was handed her child. And I know that face too. The face of utter physical exhaustion, endurance and pain. The look of triumph and knowing the power of your body. The moment where the pain is forgotten and a sweet love floods your soul. Of knowing you would do it all again just to reach this moment. The moment you held a tiny, newly born baby. For me this was the face of healing & completion. No tears watching this, just a pure unfettered joy. Our family was complete. How we had got there, adoption or egg donation, was irrelevant in this moment. We were a family and my face says it all.