When I was a child, October was the saddest month. In my Midwestern hometown, the October skies were gray. Normally happy as a child and teen, in October, my internal landscape shifted to monotone; my mood reflected daily in the oyster grey sky. My heart was heavy with unspecific sadness, no reason, no history, just sad…

Two years ago, October 2012, was an intense month, hardly monotone. And it was sad. There were births, and miscarriages, and radiologists’ phone calls, and maternal fetal medicine consults, and the first filming for a brief movie about my practice. That month, a dear friend and client was given the repeated news that her gestating baby would not survive after birth. Another client was told that her fetus had Trisomy, her unborn daughter had three of every chromosome, was not likely to survive the pregnancy, and if she did, she would not possibly make it to a first birthday. Two more dear clients had miscarriages. Then, on the last day of October 2012, Sarah Tzipporah entered the world still. She died shortly before her mother began labor. And it was sad…

Last October, so much happened. Kevin and I found our dream house. I was in the midst of trial preparation, then mid-month the judge dismissed the case. For the first time, I co-taught a Craniosacral Therapy course. There was also more filming, the movie now possessing a title, Into Loving Hands, The Movie. Then on October 18, 2013, Baby Caleb, beloved son of Rachel and Phil, was born without breath or heartbeat; the same heart that had been beating beautifully and regularly for months and for hours in labor, stopped. After much work (and a very long eighteen minutes) his heart did restart. Caleb lived long enough for his parents to say hello, and then goodbye on October 20. And it was sad…

October has come again. As I sit in bed and type on this October morning, my windows look out on a sky of grey, and an autumnal rainbow of leaves. The sounds of gentle rain, rippling creek, peeping frogs and chattering birds drift through my window. As I sit, so many thoughts, sensations and feelings filter through me. Sadness? Yes. I am sad.

Like the views out my windows, there are many hues to my internal landscape. Sadness, hope, anger, irritation and grumpiness, joy, fatigue, all dance inside me. And woven through all of that, is love, sweet, powerful, and overwhelming love. And that is good.

 

Michelle
May all babies be born into loving hands