The Painting & Its Story by Deana Ruston

{A note from Beth: from May through August 2015, I am featuring some delicious guest writers here on the blog as I recover from pregnancy and birth and adjust to our new family rhythms (find more details here).  Enjoy!}

Several months ago I purchased this painting from Beth. She’s been a friend for a few years and this painting spoke to me. I just had to have it. 

My grandfather passed away in my first year of college and that led me to study grief and bereavement counseling. I was born at 25 weeks' gestation and knowing what could’ve been for my family and my life I began to have an interest in helping families who are experiencing pregnancy and infant loss. 

The moment I saw this painting it spoke to me. I needed it. 

To me the painting symbolizes the rainbow baby growing inside a mama who has experienced pregnancy and infant loss. One in four mothers experience pregnancy and infant loss- this can be through miscarriage (a baby born before 20 weeks gestation), stillbirth (a baby born not alive after 20 weeks gestation), preterm birth (a baby born before 37 weeks gestation) or infant death. 

A rainbow baby is a baby born following the death of a child. They are a referred to as a “rainbow baby” because they are the rainbow that appears after the storm (loss) of the baby. While they never replace the child that died, they are something special in the midst of sorrow. 

With my interest in pregnancy and infant loss, and desire to help these families, this painting brings me inspiration to continue the work I do. I am honored to walk along side these families as they journey through their sadness, fear and sorrow. Having a rainbow baby brings along with it anxiety and doubt that baby will be healthy. It is an experience like no other- in a time which should be filled with waiting and excitement is now painted with fear and worry. 

A few weeks ago, I took the painting to get custom framed at my local Michael’s craft store. A young woman about mid to late 20’s assisted me in finding the perfect frame. As I was in the process of choosing a frame I asked if she wanted to know the story behind the painting. She said she would love to. I told her that my friend Beth had painted it. Beth is a mother who experienced pregnancy and infant loss when her daughter Eve was born still. When I purchased the painting Beth was pregnant with her rainbow baby. I explained what a rainbow baby was and said that I am a grief and bereavement counseling student and that I work with families experiencing pregnancy and infant loss. She said that the story of the painting was so lovely. 

As I paid for my order, she paused and said ‘you probably hear a lot of people’s personal stories -- but I had a rainbow baby too.” Tears rolled down her face as she told me this and I asked if I could give her a hug. I told her that her babies are loved and remembered. 

This single moment I shared with her brought me inspiration, hope, love and a multitude of other emotions. It was such a special time -- one I will cherish forever. 

It also taught me that you never know where and how you will impact someone’s life. Everything makes a difference -- make it a positive one. It also reminds me that pregnancy and infant loss touches the lives of everyone -- even if  you don’t know it. 

As I picked up my painting this week the same woman was working.  As soon as I approached the counter, she said she remembered me and my special painting.  I smiled and thanked her.

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Deana Ruston, a 23 year old from London, Ontario, Canada (about 2 hours from Toronto), studies grief and bereavement counselling at King's University College at Western University. She has an interest in pregnancy and infant loss, loves to bake, cook and volunteer. Born at 25 weeks gestation, she identifies as a fighter. She won't back down. 

The Beautiful Mystery of the Creatrix by Dejah Beauchamp

image by Rafael Edwards via Creative Commons

{A note from Beth: from May through August 2015, I am featuring some delicious guest writers here on the blog as I recover from pregnancy and birth and adjust to our new family rhythms (find more details here).  Enjoy!}

I don’t know why the word creatrix isn’t used more often. I think it’s a beautiful word for a woman.

A creatrix has a rich and fulfilling life, full of varied encounters and adventures. She can’t be molded, branded, or truly known. There’s always a bit of mystery about her. Her most important aspect? She creates, of course. She makes things. They can be physical things, or metaphysical things, or things for which we don’t even have a word yet.

Who are these creatrices? Well...us. Me. You.

If you’ve gotten your hands messy in paint, clay, mud, dug deep into your Self and sparked something true and vital...

If you’ve thought something brilliant and then worked to bring that thought to fruition...

If you’re a mother, if you’ve called forth little parts of your flesh and soul into beautiful being...

If you’ve ever sung, quietly or loudly, hummed a tune, written a poem, written a word...

If you’ve ever spoken up for someone, stood up for what’s good in this world, fashioned a moment of truthfulness...

See? You’re a creatrix too.

I use creatrix as my own “inner” description of myself. I came upon the word when I was going through a deep depression, questioning my role as a woman, as an individual, as a human being. I was desperately trying to figure out my place in the world. I thought I was too old to have an identity crisis (I mean, shouldn’t I have my shit together by now?).

None of the labels I’d given myself really seemed to fit me anymore. Nothing described me completely. Wife, mother—those words can often come with baggage that dims our true being, puts us in a nice socially acceptable, pre-defined box. Even when I found my writing voice and realized Yes, this is it! I was still unsure about calling myself a writer.

But creatrix...that’s a powerful word. An embraceable word. There’s something about choosing a new word to describe yourself that causes a beneficial shift in your psyche.

When I began to think of myself as a creative force, unlimited and open to everything, I really felt alive.

My writing benefited because I was no longer hindered by a constant inner critic, or worries about what other people might think of me if I wrote honestly. My relationships benefited because I was able to speak from an authentic place. Isn’t that what we’re all striving for? To live authentically, honestly, to speak up for ourselves, and to create beauty?

So, not creator: creatrix. I’m reclaiming the feminine ending for this one (I’m a sucker for fancy Latin words).

Are you a creatrix too? What is it that you love to create?

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Dejah Beauchamp doesn't know the answer to anything, but she's perfectly content to wander aimlessly through life with the hope that she'll end up in the right place. She has written for elephant journal, Be You Media Group, and The Tattooed Buddha, and has had poetry published in Pilgrimage Magazine and Vine Leaves Literary Journal. She lives in New England, raising two sons and writing about all kinds of things on her blog. You can also connect with Dejah on Facebook, or Twitter.

I'm Not Sad by Deana Ruston

image by Geoffrey Fairchild via a Creative Commons license

{A note from Beth: from May through August 2015, I am featuring some delicious guest writers here on the blog as I recover from pregnancy and birth and adjust to our new family rhythms (find more details here).  Enjoy!}

On December 27th, 2014 I was diagnosed with Stage IIB thyroid cancer. It had also spread to my lymph nodes- but I felt fine before. Didn’t have a clue, rhyme or reason to think it would happen to me. It was found through a spine MRI as I have scoliosis- so it was a shock to say the least. 

In February, I had my surgery and everything is now back to normal. I’m me -- how I was before all this happened. 

There’s no doubt that with this news and experiences I’d faced -- I’m encountering a multitude of emotions. Happy, sad, angry, frustrated. No one wants to be told they have cancer- that’s crazy! I never thought at 22 it would be me! So through this time I’ve been riding the waves that each experience and trial brought me, not one by one but sometimes many at once would come crashing down.

There’s one thing though. Maybe it’s part of our human instinct -- I don’t know. But maybe it’s because we’re trying to comfort one another, maybe we’re pushing our feelings onto the person who just got diagnosed when we really don’t know what to say. . .   No idea.

People have been assuming that I’m sad. 

I guess people think, oh she got cancer . . . she’s sad. 

I was at a visitation following the death of a distant family member a few days after diagnosis, and another family member had heard the news. She started off saying, “oh you must not be very good.” I was completely caught off guard; no hello, she just assumed how I felt. I wasn’t happy -- not with her, I mean. I was totally fine before she said anything. But her assuming how I felt?  Hmmmm, no, not okay. I mustered up a, "I'm actually doing pretty well, thanks." And carried on. 

From this cancer experience I’ve learned so much. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. For real. I’m not sad I got cancer. It’s made me a stronger, better person. I’ve always been a fighter, why back down now. Everyone has their own troubles, stories and struggles. We all get through them. At first I thought it was strange I wasn’t sad. To be honest, I thought it was almost wrong. Everyone else was sad. Why wasn’t I? I study grief counseling so I know everyone’s experience is going to be different. I had to remind myself of that. I know grief doesn’t come with step by step instructions -- who am I kidding? 

This isn’t all bad. So much good can come from it. When others try and define our feelings for us, they try to place us in the box or their template. That doesn’t work for me and probably doesn’t work for you either. Our lives are all individualized and unique. No persons story is the same as another. 

That’s the amazing thing.

Don’t let someone else define how you feel. It’s okay to feel how you do. Everyone’s experience is different. That’s okay. And we could even learn a little something from one another. 

Next time you talk to someone, ask them how they are, let them tell the story.

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Deana Ruston, a 23 year old from London, Ontario, Canada (about 2 hours from Toronto), studies grief and bereavement counselling at King's University College at Western University. She has an interest in pregnancy and infant loss, loves to bake, cook and volunteer. Born at 25 weeks gestation, she identifies as a fighter. She won't back down.