I wish I were in Japan.

The mountains to the north of Tucson are dotted with green plants. It is supposed to be a desert, but with the rains recently, the mountains and foothills covered themselves with fast growing greenery. On Wednesday, the haze usually present on a hot August afternoon, was noticeably absent; everything crystal clear. The brilliant blue of the sky contrasted with the huge thunderhead clouds, bringing with it a surreal technicolor feeling to my existence. The thoughts that occupy one’s mind during times of grief are bizarre, really.  According to the perinatologist, I will suffer a miscarriage.

I feel like I have cried enough. There is little relief to knowing, actually. According to Fran the midwife, there are temples in Japan in which little child-like statues stand. Women place little red knitted caps or bibs on the statues to help mourn their loss of a miscarriage, an abortion, or a stillbirth. Fran says that the acknowledgement of a loss is very healing. I would like to see something like that here.