Jean H
Decades ago, I lost four little lives…tried to keep going, same old same old, get “over it”, move on… Fast forward three decades and baby showers are still a sticking point. Why? Maybe it’s the expectation, the hope…the life to come being celebrated… Don’t get me wrong, I celebrate life – I celebrate birth, but the pre-expectation…the waiting…the planning and hoping...the talk about how the experience was for the many mothers attending, the questions about how it was for me…when it never was for me. The flowers and balloons, a pre-birthday celebration of sorts. Waiting in hopeful expectation. I can’t talk about the birth experience – it just isn’t part of my repertoire….or is it?
I’m raising a group of Monarch caterpillars – saved from the red ants that keenly jump on any eggs laid by the female Monarch butterflies that visit my milkweed. Over the days and weeks, I’ve realized that this process of raising another creature involves the same stages of human life. The egg is laid and life begins – out hatches the tiny first instar...an almost microscopic little larva who quickly chomps its way to the next second instar stage…and on it goes until the caterpillar is plump and ready to shed its skin for the last time to reveal the chrysalis – the body form that will then develop into a butterfly. So, everyday I’ve been caring for these little creatures – getting fresh milkweed, cleaning out the enclosure, until they’ve entered their chrysalis stage.
At this point, I wait and watch the calendar - counting the 10-15 days until the “birth” of the butterfly – the eclosure – is set to happen. I’m taken back to the calendar counting of my monthly cycle and the hopeful expectation of new life when the test was positive. Hoping and waiting… Then, one evening, I peer into the enclosure…squinting to see if any changes are happening – like an expectant mother ready for the process of birth to start – yes, I can see the darkening of the chrysalis as it becomes transparent to reveal the black and orange of the developing wings. It’s almost time – the waiting is almost over!
The next morning, I quickly find my way to the enclosure and see the process happening right before my eyes. I throw down a cushion and settle in to watch in breathless anticipation – in hopeful expectation.
The chrysalis opens and the butterfly squirms out until it’s fully emerged - after drying its wings for a few hours, I nudge it gently on to my finger, guide it out of the net enclosure and release. As I watch this newborn beauty take to the sky, I also feel a release of grief and the tears roll down my cheeks. She might not have made it without me… No, I’m almost sure that she wouldn’t have. I was part of ushering life into the world. For a brief moment, I feel part of the birth experience. The expectation, the hope, the waiting, the wondering, meeting a new life – a new creature, holding it in my hand and then releasing it into the world.
Life is filled with opportunities to wait in hopeful expectation. No longer able to conceive, I will never know the experience of bringing my own child into the world…but I can be part of the universal experience of the life cycle and give a helping hand to life developing all around me.
