She lost her unborn. Her heart will grieve this unmotherly act of betrayal by her body for a while. But she will learn to accept that and she will move on. Thats right. Hope. That is the promise of life.
It feels guilty to get used to it though.. it feels afraid to ever think about trying again. No denying that procreation sets you up for disappointments, big time. Every day that you bear the life, you bear infinite possibilities of disasters that can befall it and you shed tears praying to be spared. Forget it. Must Always Hope. That is the promise of life.
You have to give yourself another chance, she is advised. In her heart she knows she will, give herself that chance, if the divinity that she implored and prayed to every day before, if the divinity that she cursed and spurned when she faced its betrayal a few days ago, sides with her, for one more time. The precious chance of success at the risk of the bitter emptiness left in her womb and her heart, right now. There are no insurances for these things. Yes, its true. You can Only Hope. That is the promise of life.
Wonder if it makes any sense at all. When we know that with conception we also must embrace the certainty of death. Does it matter whether that is inside the womb or outside of it? Oh no, no, this is insane! At this stage, it was just a mass of cells. It knew no pain when it died. Inside the womb is same as maybe the appendicitis. Just another meaningless mass in your body, with no soul. Stop it please, right now. Please Hope. That is the promise of life.
But what about her soul? What about the names she thought she'd call it by? What about the flutter of its heartbeats she heard on the ultrasound machine? It was a little fish that swam around in her belly and filled her heart with the joy of being. What about it, for god's sake? Hope. Hope. Hope. That is the Promise of Life!