“Is this the way it’s really going down?

Is this how we say goodbye?

 You had me in the palm of your hand. 

So why your love went away?

I just can’t seem to understand.

Thought it was me and you baby–me and you until the end.

But I guess I was wrong.

Don’t wanna think about it–no.

Don’t wanna talk about it-uh.

I’m just so sick about it.  I can’t believe it’s ending this way.

Just so confused about it.  And in the blues about it.

I just can’t do without you

And tell me is this fair?

Is this the way it’s really goin’ down?

Is this how we say goodbye?

It’s breakin’ my heart.

Thought it was you and me baby, and now it’s all just a shame.

And I guess I was wrong.

Don’t wanna think about it-no.

Don’t wanna talk about it-uh.

I’m just so sick about it.  I can’t believe it’s ending this way.

Just so confused about it.  And in the blues about it.

I just can’t do without you.

And can you tell me is this fair?

Is this the way it’s really goin’ down?

Is this how we say goodbye?

What goes around, goes around, goes around, comes all the way back around.


What goes around, goes around, goes around, comes all the way back around.


What goes around, goes around, goes around, comes all the way back around.

-Justin Timberlake

I lost my baby on Tuesday May 5^th 2009–a day I will always remember with indescribable grief and loss.  I lost a child that I will never meet or hold in my arms, but whom I loved deeply and will always love with all of my heart.

Now, 54 hours later, I am amazed at the change possible in such a small period of time. 

I just finished my practice and only had to stop once to cry.

I am able to accept that this did indeed happen and I am not in some sort of bizarre extended nightmare and will wake up soon.

I am able to find gratitude for many things:  my three healthy, wonderful, sparkly, happy children; my soul-mate who has been with me every step of the way through this harrowing process and with whom I am even closer due to this painful path; my yoga practice which brings me a sense of relief both physically and emotionally when all else seems confusing and painful at best; my incredible family, friends, and community who have been amazingly supportive, loving, kind, and compassionate and continue to be so—even though I cannot even speak live to anyone yet, since any conversation ends with me sobbing and no one really understanding what I am saying; the sun which came out yesterday to let me know that one day I will find, feel, and live in the light again (it poured rain the whole day I found out my baby was gone); the internet for letting me disseminate the painful, important news through cyberspace and have the personal space I need to grieve—and heal; the grass that is getting greener with each passing day; the smiles on my children’s faces; my son’s expression last night while I was reading him a bedtime story and he began pounding on my stomach and looked at me for a reaction, and I said “That’s OK, you can do that–the baby is gone now.  The baby is in Heaven,” and he looked up into the sky with the expression of an angel and said “Baby Kota;” the nut milk that my 11 year old just brought me to say “I hope you are feeling better, Mom,” the many friends who came through for me in helping me to find someone to perform a DNC ASAP when my midwife practice couldn’t fit me in for awhile, and the angel on earth (Cela Doppelt, MD) who ultimately performed it for me today—in her office and without anesthesia; my yoga studios and all of my students–who are a constant source of light in my life; and the baby who brought so much light and love to my life for almost 11 weeks, and whose spirit will always be with me and my family, watching over us and bringing us wisdom and love.

I don’t yet have the lesson for this painful experience, but I know that it will come, with time and healing. 

As a friend wrote to me today:  “Time will heal, and reveal.” 

So whatever you are going through right now, Super-mom/Super-people, hang in there and breathe.  One moment at a time.  In time you will have found peace, relief, wisdom, and ultimately, gratitude for all of the aforementioned.  No matter how impossible that seems right now. 

“Faith is the bird who sings when the dawn is still dark.”