#Preconception Health | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rahuratna · 3 days

Text

Synopsis: Five different perspectives on Nanami Kento.

Tags: Angst, humour, mystery, character study.

Warnings: canon-typical violence.

"I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.

Whatever I see I swallow immediately

Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.

I am not cruel, only truthful‚

The eye of a little god, four-cornered."

~ The Mirror, Sylvia Plath

Yoshinari remembers that day well. Even now, decades later, his team leader's near-panicked expression stands out with harsh clarity in his mind. Yoshinari had just mentioned that he hadn't finished the analysis due that afternoon because he'd been struck down with a bad bout of flu. Whirling on his heel, the team lead had really let fly with his irritation.

"But we had an agreement! You were to complete the analysis the day before yesterday! There'll be no excuse at all for us walking into that meeting unprepared!"

"But sir ... I had a lot to catch up on that evening. And I - "

"I'm done with this conversation! Come up with something, or explain to the chief why you couldn't finish your basic tasks on time."

Left standing in the empty hallway, Yoshinari had let frustration, anger, self-pity and helplessness wash over him, bitter as a brackish tide. Nobody ever listened to him. Nobody ever understood how the demands of this job couldn't be humanly met unless he practically lived at the office. Nobody cared what his state of health was. Nobody -

"Are you all right?"

Hastily wiping off the corner of his eye, he turned to see none other than Nanami Kento standing in the doorway leading from the hallway to the main office floor. Nanami, whose reports were always turned in on time. Nanami, whose suits were never rumpled, whose clients never complain, whose presentations were always meticulous, who never spilled a drop or wasted a crumb when he ate -

Tamping down the rising envy and resentment for the tall man standing before him, Yoshinari sighed and embraced the inevitable. It isn't Nanami's fault. Nanami is simply doing the job, like the rest of them. He just happened to be a lot more competent at it than most.

"I'm a bit ... under the weather, that's all. There's a meeting this afternoon. I won't be prepared because I haven't had time to get the quarterly analysis done."

Nanami watched him in silence. Yoshinari continued, chest feeling slightly less heavy as he vented to his quiet companion.

"I just wish ... that we were given more value, you know? We're not robots. We're people. And sometimes, we ... I can't get all my tasks done. I just wanted ... some understanding. That's all."

Yoshinari realized just how petulant he sounded the more he spoke. His voice trailed off, and he avoided the other man's gaze. What must Nanami think of someone like him? Did he pity him? Was he annoyed by him and his complaining? Was he indifferent, like everyone else? It was hard to tell.

Nanami never lost his composure, never expressed strong emotion, never seemed anything other than cool and detached. He must think that someone like Yoshinari was worthy of pity and contempt. Nothing more.

Without waiting for Nanami's reply, Yoshinari turned and made his way to the elevators, trying to focus on the client briefing lined up (and not the humiliation and reprimands he'd have to endure later.)

The humiliation never came, though. Walking into the meeting that afternoon, Yoshinari was met with the huffy, slightly startled demeanor of the team leader when he was complimented on his 'sterling work', handed a steaming cup of coffee and patted on the back. He sat through the rest of the meeting in a daze, mind still struggling to grapple with what had occurred.

When he got a chance, he snuck a look at the analysis that supposedly came from him. There, in the phrasing, the layout, the orderly sequences of figures and the in-depth breakdown of each element, he recognises the hand of Nanami Kento.

When the meeting was over, he tried to find Nanami, to thank him for that unexpected favour. A part of him was beginning to take the assistance with a pinch of salt; what did Nanami expect in return for this?

When he eventually spied Nanami, he paused, the report crumpling slightly in his hand. Coat draped over his chair, tie cast over one shoulder, sleeves rolled up and chair reclining, Nanami's hollowed eyes and sharply-defined cheekbones were covered with a white handkerchief, the marks of exhaustion clear in his bearing.

Many years later, watching his grandchildren chase each other around the darkened trunk of a plum tree, a soft, secret smile finds its home on Yoshinari's face as he remembers that day. He glances up at the delicate blossoms, pushing their heads insistently into the fresh bite of a new spring day and wonders if Nanami ever had grandchildren of his own.

Warmth. Kinship. Command.

When Master calls me out, I recognise the tug and relentless pull into another place. This place. This world of scent and colour and sound, where I am given form.

My Master's hands smell of paper, freshly cut apples and grass. They are firm and familiar as their fingers run through my fur. Sometimes, Master brings us out of the other place without urgency, simply to keep us at his side.

Megumi.

That is my Master's given name. He is dark in spirit, light of foot, and his mouth seldom curves, like the other humans. But when we are all together, pack, bodies curled up and sharing warmth, Master's eyes are like a distant lamp, flickering softly.

The white-veined one names my Master as Megumi. He is the one with power like a great summer storm, sweeping with acrid sharpness across the senses and scorching the unseen world in his wake. His hair is white too, his spirit leaping from one focus to the next, lightning and laughter.

The white-veined one is trustworthy. He is pack, but even though Master trusts him completely, he makes others nervous.

And then, there is the Blademaster. This one is almost familiar. He is like Master in many ways. He smells of good food, old leather and the sharp tang of polished metal. His power is an underground river, swift and subtle, rising to a well-controlled roar when he calls upon it.

The Blademaster avoids pack. He likes to sit alone on the benches at sunset, sometimes, with his food in an oval box at his side. He stares a lot into the sky. Only he knows what he sees there.

The sky doesn't hold much interest for me, but the smells from the Blademaster's box always call for attention. He has meat in there. And cheese. Sometimes, if I press my nose into his hand, he shares his food. It is good food. It tastes better when he offers it out of his own palm.

The Blademaster's hand is bigger, rougher around the fingers than Master's. He is an experienced warrior, and he has been in many fights. The scent of it is on him, in ways that cannot be disguised. He carries the smell of old wounds, of battles that etched away at the parts of him than leave no visible scars.

Sometimes, his pain is great. Those times, he needs pack, even if he doesn't know it. I find him, at his bench. Even though he has no food, I sit with him. His fingers in my fur are different, but warm, like Master's.

We watch the sky together.

It's the bustle of the lunch rush that brings him suddenly into her mind; tall, broad-shouldered, imposing in his dark, pinstripe suit. She's seen many, many salarymen enter her establishment over the years, but none quite like him.

He'd seemed hard, humourless, exacting, a man of substance and character, whittled away bit by bit by the hundred inconveniences and troubles of everyday life. Her attempts to cheer him up always fell flat. Her jokes landed like stale bread on a food critic's plate.

"Hey, Nanami! Good to see you! Decided to loaf around on your lunch break again?"

"How am I loafing?"

"Ah, that was just a pun. You know. Because you come here to buy sandwiches."

"Do you charge extra for the puns? Because I'm not paying for that."

"Wow. So cold ... "

And on another occasion:

"Hey Nanami! Knock knock."

" ... "

"You're supposed to say 'who's there?'"

"Who's there."

"As a question, not a statement!"

"Does it matter?"

"Fine. It's doughnut."

"Doughnut who?"

"Dough nut enter the shop without checking out the specials!"

"Please just give me the sandwich."

Ah, those were good times. Maybe he did appreciate her silly attempts at humour on some level. She'd never know.

Sometimes, she wonders if she shouldn't have asked him for help. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut about that pesky stiffness and pain in her shoulder joint. There was no way she could have known what would happen next.

She recalls, with perfect clarity, the sudden change in his demeanour. The subtle straightening of his posture, the focus of that intense honey-brown stare, the way he'd looked at and past her, as if glancing through some secret window into an unknown she could never fathom. And then, he'd raised his arm, swung it in that swift, decisive motion, and her pain disappeared in a matter of seconds.

She still wonders how exactly he'd accomplished that. Was he a spiritual healer of some kind? She couldn't think of an occupation less suited to someone like him. All the same, she was thankful. She'd even packed a free almond croissant and coffee with his sandwich the next day, kept aside for the lunch rush.

Except, he'd never shown up. Not that day, or the next, or the day after that. Nanami simply disappeared from the normal routine of his life altogether.

Of course, she made some enqueries. She was somewhat concerned, considering how sudden his absence had been. What if he'd overworked himself enough to end up in hospital? It wasn't unheard of.

His work colleagues, some of whom also frequented the bakery, told her that he'd suddenly up and left. Handed in his resignation and promptly disappeared.

She'd never heard from him, ever again. It wasn't that she was upset or offended. Customers changed their whims daily. But with him ... something about it concerned her. What would prompt a creature of habit, like Nanami, to suddenly change his routine? There was probably a perfectly sound explanation for it, but it worried her all the same.

After all these years, even now, as manager of her own small dessert shop, not far from the original bakery she'd served at, she'd never taken the casse-croûte off the menu.

It would remain there, for the day he might come through the door once again, and she'd say it, just like she'd rehearsed in her mind so many times.

"Welcome back, Nanami. The usual?"

Pain. This is all that she thinks, all that she feels. It is all-consuming. It isn't like the time she broke her finger after a particularly bad fall when she was ten years old. Not even like the wound left when her mother died; gaping, raw around the edges, on display for all that looked her way.

This pain was, somehow, even worse than that. Pain that twisted and tore through the fabric of her, agony piled on agony, neverending. It stretched beyond her, into a night of unknown horrors that she had no means of comprehending.

Something was very, very wrong with her body. This much she could tell, even as she wove in and out of consciousness. The sense of change to her own form, of being maimed in some fundamental sense, was so strong that she wondered how she was still alive.

His hands. So cold. Pain beyond imagining. She doesn't want to enter that forbidden entryway in her thoughts. Someone did this to her. Someone made her helpless, controlled her. Turned her into this grotesque travesty of a living thing. She should feel furious, that this had been done to her. But she doesn't have the capacity for anything but pleading, begging for a swift release from this torment.

Something is shifting around her now. She cannot even brace for the agony, because there are no known muscles for her to do so. Her body feels like a shapeless, amorphous mass that changes according to the unknown puppeteer's will.

Now, she feels the brush of fetid air on her flesh, the dank, mossy wall of some subterranean feature, a dizzying sense of being propelled at high speed through a narrow space.

Someone is moving alongside her, dodging, weaving. Not the puppeteer. Another. Their movements are swift, strong, filled with a measured grace that dances around her striking, flailing limbs (if they can still be called such) with dexterity. She tries to fight back against the overpowering will, to stop any harm coming to that person. It is futile.

Another shift, her body stretched in another direction. And - oh! Air! Damp and rank in scent, something like a sewer, but never more welcome. Her senses had been cloaked, due to the current nature of her body, but now, she was aware of eyes, ears, nose, a budding mouth that opened in a soundless cry for help.

He heard her.

He was standing over her, feet braced on her alien form. A man in dark glasses and a suit, a strangely patterned sword at his side. The sensation of the strangely blunt blade cleaving her flesh as she hurtles at him is weighted, some kind of energy behind it.

He can cause damage to her in this form! He can ...

But her mouth doesn't work the way it's supposed to. She can't beg him, can't plead with him to end this abysmal existence that only serves as torture. The terror, anger, frustration and hopelessness have no channel by which to reach the outside world any longer.

No! Please! Help me!

Wrung from dregs of her despair, a single tear forms at the corner of her existing eye, rolling down the distended, distorted skin.

Is this it? Is this all she can summon?

But he sees it. His hand is reaching down, towards where she lies, helpless beneath his feet, helpless to the whim of another. His thumb is warm, so warm, as he strokes beneath her eye, dashing away the trace of the tear.

In the moments that follow, before her consciousness finally descends into blessed, blessed darkness, she memorizes the feel of that touch, the last thing on this earthly plane that she'll ever know.

For all her suffering, let it never be said that she hasn't known true kindness.

Gojo and Namamin. Side by side, they're day and night. Yuuji can see that, and often delights in it. He thinks about it now, as he brushes his teeth, one hand carding absently through the tangles in his hair.

Gojo operated on a certain wavelength Yuuji had been attuned to since the very beginning. Nanamin, less so.

When Yuuji really thinks about it, it reminds him somewhat of the recipes his grandfather taught him. Gramps's house was one run on self-sufficiency. There was never an excuse for slacking off.

Gojo was like the spicy miso ramen he'd learned to make, the one with the specially crafted chilli oil and the perfect ramen egg for topping. A wash of heat, scorching the tongue and throat, a burst of flavour that somehow lingered long after it had rushed past your teeth like a flashflood. It entertained, it sustained, it left you feeling warm and energized.

Nanamin was like bread.

Now, Yuuji wasn't crazy about bread. He was more of a rice-bowl kinda guy. But the baking of bread was something he'd never quite managed to get the hang of, to begin with. His grandfather eyeballed ingredients, kneaded with rapid, dexterous fists, added an extra pinch of salt here, or a splash of milk there, depending on the type and texture of bread he wanted. It was as if Gramps could envision an end product that Yuuji had no concept of at all.

Namamin had been just as difficult to gauge in the mixing bowl of Yuuji's experience. Practical, rule-following, collected and proper. Spontaneity could take a hike, as far as Nanamin was concerned. Not the kind of man to pretend to be dead and then hop out of a box when you least expect it.

Ha. Anyway.

Bread. That's the analogy he was going with, and the one he was finding increasingly appropriate.

Pulling on his uniform jacket, Yuuji felt the familiar tug and rumble of hunger ascend from his stomach. He tied the laces on his signature red sneakers and grabbed his backpack, heading for the Tech cafeteria for breakfast.

Thinking over it further, bread was ... a staple. It was not to everyone's taste. It was simple, filling, a great companion piece for more flavourful ingredients. And hellishly difficult to bake correctly. For Yuuji, at least.

Yeah. Bread. It was a good comparison.

Turning the corner, Yuuji nearly ran right into the current occupant of his thoughts.

"Ah ... Nanamin! You're here early today!"

"Good morning, Yuuji. Please be careful. I have a cup of hot coffee here."

Falling into step beside the stoic sorcerer (uninvited) Yuuji decided to share some of his thoughts, an uncharacteristically serious expression adorning his face.

"Nanamin, there's something I've been thinking about."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. If I had to compare you to a food, it'd be bread."

A silence meets this statement. Nanami takes a sip of his coffee. Undeterred, Yuuji continues.

"Like, I love a good katsudon, but when it's midnight and I've been training hard, and I wake up all tired and my body's all sore ... I just go make a sandwich, ya know? Even when Gramps was in hospital and I used to get back from school, and oh, yeah, I sometimes forgot to buy groceries ... there was still bread. Just a loaf, there on the counter. And it didn't matter if there were no other ingredients to cook with, or anything, because you can't go wrong with a fried egg on some fresh, crispy toast. Ahh, yeah. The best."

Nanami adjusted his glasses slightly.

"Itadori ... is this your way of informing me that you find me reliable?"

"Huh? Oh ... I mean, yeah. But that's not all."

"It isn't?"

"Nah. 'Cos I baked bread with my Gramps, see? And it was hard to get right. But I did, at some point. And it felt ... great. And I never got it wrong again. And Gramps is gone now, I know. But when I miss him, kinda, baking bread helps me remember what it was like having him around."

Having said his piece, Yuuji folded his arms behind his head, marching peaceably alongside Nanami, lightly humming the theme song to the latest show he'd been watching. Nanami was now looking down, into his coffee. He didn't take another sip. His voice, when he spoke, was quieter than usual.

"I like sandwiches. Trying different fillings is something of a hobby of mine."

Yuuji nods, a light grin forming on his face.

"I can tell."

"Having said that ... I'm partial to fried chicken and beer on a Tuesday afternoon. It ... reminds me of when I was younger."

"Whoa. For real?"

"Yes."

"But Nanamin ... isn't fried chicken and beer the kind of thing you share with others?"

"It is."

"Hmmm."

Yuuji appears to give this some serious thought, before slapping his fist into his palm as an epiphany strikes.

"But wait! Let's get it together next time! I won't drink the beer, don't worry. I can get a soda or something."

"What - "

"And we can order the MegaBox deal that also comes with a medium pizza and cheese croquettes!"

"Yuuji - "

"Oooh, I'm so excited! I wonder what their pizza base is like? But hey, Nanamin, I've gotta run ahead. Maki-senpai's training with me today and she'll kick my ass if I'm late. See ya on Tuesday!"

All thoughts of bread firmly shelved for the present, Yuuji trotted further up the corridor and through the sliding doors of the cafeteria, pausing to wave at Nanami as he left his line of vision.

Yuuji doesn't get to see the small smile that temporarily eases the harsh lines of the sorcerer's face. It is fleeting, gentle, an echo of a smile he'd worn for another, long ago.

Dividers by: @sister-lucifer

65 notes · View notes

avelera · 1 year

Text

I just realized that I think I have a consistent headcanon across all my fics that like... Dream and Hob are a good match, once Dream gets past all his preconceptions around Hob. BUT, if Hob REALLY wanted Dream to go feral for him right away, all he'd have to do is be in a situation where DREAM needs to take care of HOB.

Like so much hurt/comfort focuses on post-fishbowl Dream but I think Dream would HATE THAT, truly. Does he need it? YES. And I think if they got to a place of trust, Dream WOULD open up to Hob taking care of him and he WOULD be better off for it.

Does Dream want it? NO. Does he NEED it? Probably yes!

Because the first MOMENT we see a spark of real fascination from Dream? It's 1689, when Hob is at his lowest! One of the few sparks we get before that? 1489 when Hob is being all wide-eyed and innocent. Even 1389, when does Dream smile? When in his mind, Hob is utterly fucked by the wager he just agreed to. Dream has this little smile of "Oh boy this guy does NOT know what he's in for!" and he does, in both 1389 and 1489, for a moment, seem charmed by Hob's naïveté.

1789? Dream is VERY turned on by Hob coming to his defense, yes, but ALSO Dream's hungry look follows Dream using the sand in Hob's defense, AND the moment the look he gives Hob becomes truly feral is when Hob concedes that Dream really didn't NEED his help, when Hob acknowledges Dream's strength with that, "Clearly."

And what's the next thing Dream does? Take care of Hob by sacrificing short term attraction between them for Hob's long-term safety.

When does Dream freakout in 1889? When Hob tries to take care of him. Dream does NOT want Hob's comfort or his thoughts on Dream's loneliness!

When does Dream look closest to heart-eyes in 1889? When Hob looks sad at the thought he'll never truly grow or change or become better!

Dream lunges to take care of Hob in 1889 and prop him up in that moment. He looks so warmed by the prospect of being able to cheer Hob up but he immediately shuts down when Hob tries to return the favor.

So, all I'm saying is... if Hob really wanted to reel Dream in, he'd conspire to need to be rescued, or get sick and be nursed back to health, or SOMETHING that lets Dream be the caretaker. Because CLEARLY the thing driving Dream away for so much of their relationship is any time Hob is brash and loud and cheerfully self-sufficient.

Dream is a mess himself. He doesn't NEED a reminder that for all his power, his personal life is a mess. He's a KING, he wants dignity and respect. And Hob, a COMMONER, is showing himself more resilient to immortality than Dream of the Endless is.

But when does Dream suddenly see Hob as more than just a task he's been assigned? When he gets to see the moments where Hob struggles, when things aren't working out for him.

I would argue, it's because that's then Dream doesn't feel like such shit about himself around Hob. And more to the point, Dream's job is to take care of the dreamers. Hob is a dreamer. Dream feels good when he can take care of another person.

And this is why they are both acts-of-service bitches doing an absolutely terrible job communicating this to one another for the first 600 years of their friendship. In this essay, I will....

#the sandman #dreamling #sandman meta

505 notes · View notes

drmadhugoelgynecologist · 1 year

Text

The journey to parenthood is a significant and life-changing one, and for many couples, it begins with a desire for a healthy and happy pregnancy. One of the keys to achieving this goal is to prioritize preconception health. Preconception health involves taking proactive steps to optimize your health and well-being before becoming pregnant, and it can have a profound impact on both your fertility and the health of your future child. In this article, we will explore the importance of preconception health and provide essential tips to help you embark on a successful pregnancy journey.

#Best Pregnancy Doctor In Delhi #Best Pregnancy Doctor In South Delhi #Preconception Health #Tips For A Healthy Pregnancy Journey

0 notes

gor3sigil · 26 days

Text

I have to share a story about why I HATE the term "trauma dumping".

So basically, we were at my at the time partner's house with friends of them and we were talking about mental health.

I don't remember exactly how we came to this but one woman started talking about psychosis and her sister who is schizophrenic.

She had a lot of preconception about this and, while I am not schizophrenic, I dealt with psychosis and hallucinations.

So I started to talk about my experiences with that, stating AGAIN that I wasn't schizophrenic but I thought it was an interesting point of view.

Some other people started asking questions so I answered them, asking here and there if it was okay for me to talk about it, and nobody, INCLUDING the woman who started the conversation in the first place, said anything.

And at one point I saw she was uncomfortable and asked her if she'd rather drop the subject.

And then, she BLEW UP on me saying that I was trauma dumping, that she felt like she was partaking in a conversation she NEVER ASKED to partake in (again, she was the one who brought up the subject), that I was being insensitive and over sharing shit and that she didn't like it.

Like, bitch, I asked a bunch of time if it was okay, you were the one talking about these symptoms without even living it and trying to teach people some crappy over the counter shit, but now that she wasn't the Main Character with the Knowledge it became an issue and I was the problem.

I know that I'm open about my experiences and tend to talk about it but I ALWAYS make sure that people on the other end are okay with me sharing this. This was just utter bullshit.

And online or IRL, I just noticed that the term "trauma dumping" is just the easy way out of a conversation that makes you feel uncomfortable while putting the blame on the person doing it.

You can absolutely put boundaries, but don't you dare guilt someone just to avoid being seen as an asshole and make yourself clean of anything. It's healthy to state that you are uncomfortable talking about things, but you can do so without making up shit about others.

36 notes · View notes

ohtobeleah · 11 months

Text

Goodbye, Goodbye // Jake Seresin

-> A Terms of Endearment Blurb

Summary: Jake & Amilia have been trying for a year, when they do fall pregnant it leads to a much bigger discovery and an even bigger heart heartbreak.

Warnings: Pregnancy journey. Pregnancy talk. Miscarriage. Ovarian Cancer. Jake Seresin x OC reader. PLEASE READE THE WARNINGS

Word Count: 4.2k

Author Note: Day Twenty One of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Near Death Experience. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The love between Jake Seresin and Amilia Fisher was as fierce as love could be. It was no secret to anyone around them that they had a love that burned so deep and so profound that they would forever and always be each other’s end game. Each other's soul mates. For all that they had been through and worked on, new love grew in the form of healed wounds and new trust.

They had, for what it was worth—survived The Great War.

“I can’t keep doing this.” Amilia sighed as she crawled into bed beside her husband with yet another negative pregnancy test. “It’s been twelve months of constant let downs.” She frowned at the stupid plastic first response she knew she shouldn’t buy but kept repurchasing anyway. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I can’t keep doing this to myself Jake.”

Amilia laid her head on Jake's shoulder as he sat up in their bed. The two of them had been trying for one whole year. One whole year of negative pregnancy tests. One whole year old preconception vitamins. One whole year of sperm health tables. One whole year of tips and tricks Amilia’s Flo app had given her. One whole year of prime positions and menstrual cycle tracking and temperature monitoring and diet changes.

One whole year of nothing by failed attempts and broken hearts.

“I know, and hey—I know we’re both on the same page about wanting this.” Jake cooed as he took the negative test from his wife’s hand. “But maybe it just isn’t our time?”

“So do we keep trying or do we go see a fertility specialist and try to figure out what’s going on?” They had been told to try and convince naturally for twelve consecutive months before reaching out to a specialist. That was the recommendation. But with every month that passed them by, Amilia grew more and more frustrated and concerned that something could be wrong.

“I think we keep trying, but do that in tandem with talking to a specialist.” Jake cooed. “I love you, I want this yeah?”

“I want this too—so bad.” Amilia could feel her bottom lip quivering. She wanted to be a mother so badly, she wanted to give Jake the chance to be a dad. He was already the best uncle to Odette and Riley, even if he was halfway across the world three months at a time. “I just don't know if I can't handle another negative test, my body is literally designed to have children and I can't even get a stupid fertilised egg to embed in me.” Jake had to laugh sympathetically as Amilia snuggled into his side with a huff. She was doing her best, he knew that.

“For all we know it could be me who's shooting blanks.” He reminded her. “We’ll talk to someone who can help us alright, but for now, let's just appreciate the time we have together before kiddos and prams and family passes and all the sleepless nights we’ll surely have.”

“I know you're frustrated.” Amilia mumbled into Jake's side. His tan torso was hot to the touch, her walking talking furnace. “You don't have to be the optimistic one all the time.”

“Trust me–” Jake admitted in the low light of their bedroom the two shared in Townsville, Australia. ”I am, but I'm not frustrated with you.” Jake felt like he had to make that clear as clear could be. “I think I'm just frustrated that we’re kinda told that if you have sex you get pregnant and die.” It was an over exaggeration of the poor sex education system, but Jake pretty much nailed it. “And now that we’re trying, it just sucks that it hasn't happened the way I always thought it would.”

“Makes me jealous of Fe for getting pregnant so easily.” Amilia felt awful saying it, but she knew her husband wouldn't spill her horrid thoughts. “Riley was a thought and then she was real in the span of a year and Nicky well, we both know Nicky was a little oopsie baby, our children, if we keep going at this rate will have sixty five year old parents in their teens.”

“How do people do it.'' Jake sighed as he sunk a little lower into the bed and pulled his wife into his chest. “Oopsie babies, I mean–I just don't get it, how do you not know?”

“We’re horrible people aren't we?” Amilia chuckled to herself as she curled into her husband. They were ready for the next big phase in life, but something was holding them back from stepping into parenthood. Some divine intervention that was telling them now wasn't their time. But my god did they both want it just as bad as each other.

“Hmm, maybe.” Jake kissed Amilias shoulder softly as he revelled in the scent of her body wash. “But no one needs to know, and all those people out there getting pregnant the first time round? They’re just overachievers.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Amilias period was four days late. She initially didn't think much of it because she knew when she got stressed it messed with her cycle, but something deep inside her was telling her to take just one more test. Something was telling her that if she took just one more, that it would be the positive she had been praying for.

“If you’re fucking with me man I’m gonna be pissed.” She wasn’t a religious person, but Amilia believed that there was something bigger than herself out there. So as the little stick sat upside down on the counter of her bathroom vanity—she spoke to whatever the hell that bigger idea was. “I’m serious, I can’t take it.”

The timer felt obnoxious, but Amilia jumped as the silence in her bathroom was broken by the set standard alarm her phone rang with. Three entire minutes had passed and she was standing on the edge of a cliff she knew that she’d jump off if that plastic stick was negative. She couldn’t do it anymore, it was torture.

“Alright, fuck it.” She groaned as she reached out to check the pregnancy test. To Amelia's surprise though it wasn’t what she had originally been expecting. “Oh my god—“ It was positive. Her first positive. “No fucking way.” Two very pink very clear very there lines were looking back at Amilia as she cupped a hand over her mouth and crouched down. Her knees felt weak, she had to remind herself to breathe or else she was going to pass out from the pure joy that was pulsing through her veins.

“Holy shit, I’m pregnant!” Amilia had thought about all the different ways she could have told her husband that they were expecting, she even had one of those ‘Hi Daddy’ newborn onesie tucked away somewhere deep in their closet for a rainy day. But as her feet hit the pavement of the Townville Naval base, Amilia made a B-line for the administration building to get herself a visitors pass.

“Your wife’s looking for you.” Gucci told Jake as he caught up with him in one of the hallways. “She’s in G building.”

“Oz is on base?” Jake replied with caution lacing his words.

“I just saw her, she asked if I saw you to send you her way.” Jake wasn’t about to stick around and play twenty one questions with his wingman. He let his feet carry him over to G building where he’d been told his wife was looking for him. Jake's locker was in G building, so was the canteen he frequented and the rec room he liked the most—so it was only natural for Amilia to assume that would be the easiest place to start.

“Oz?” Jake cooed as he rounded a particular corner and saw the back of his wife’s head. “What are you doing here? Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

Without question or any explanation, Amilia ran towards her husband with a smile so bright and a laugh so full of joy that it nearly knocked Jake to the ground. She jumped into his unexpecting arms that were quick to catch her as her legs wrapped around his wide but muscular frame.

“Babe!?”

“I’m pregnant!” Two words, it took just two words for Jake Seresins heart to implode in his chest. “We’re pregnant Jake we fucking did it!”

“You’re pregnant?” Jake never thought his heart could get any bigger, but he knew in that very moment his heart grew—it imploded and grew back twice the size it originally was to cater for the little life the two of them had created. “Are—are you sure?”

Amilia Fisher couldn’t be sure until she had a blood test done, but when the ten pregnancy test she took all from different brands came up as fat as fuck positives—she knew they couldn’t be lying. She was pregnant.

“I’m sure, I’m so sure Jake, we’re gonna be parents!”

Jake sat his wife back down on the ground but he never let her go. He kissed her with enough passion and love to have her heart fluttering inside her chest and her lungs burning with desire. His hands cupped her flushed with heat cheeks so she couldn’t pull away—and through the entire embrace, Amilia couldn’t stop smiling against her husband's lips.

“Holy shit we’re pregnant!” Jake let his forehead settle against his wife’s. “Oz, I love you so very much.”

“We’re gonna have a baby Seresin.” Amilia laughed as she ran the pad of her thumb across Jake's cheek. “Us, you and me, with a baby.”

“Half you half me huh.” Jaked cooed, he was over the moon. Amilia widened her eyes in response before she laughed, they were having the baby they had dreamed of having.

“Oh god what a combo—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“You’ll need to make an appointment with an OBGYN for an ultrasound at around six to eight weeks.” With a single blood test, the pregnancy that Jake and Amilia had been waiting for had been officially confirmed. “But congratulations, you are very much pregnant, Mrs Seresin.”

“You hear that Oz?” Jake cooed as he squeezed Amilias hand in the doctor's office. “Very pregnant.”

The two were keeping everything on the downlow, Amilia, albeit very excited and full of joy to finally experience her biggest wish—wanted to wait till she was out of the first trimester until her and Jake started telling the people closer to them. However, that didn’t stop Jake from telling you, his closest friend, his sister, his person.

“Amilias pregnant!?” You shouted down the phone. “Oh my god congratulations! How far along is she?”

“Uh—we just left the doctors office like five minutes ago, four weeks?” Jake looked over to where his wife sat in the passenger's seat, beaming at your reaction over the loudspeaker. “She’s here with me.”

“Oz! You’re pregnant oh my god!” You wanted to cry, Jake was going to be an amazing dad and Amilia was going to be the best mum. That kid was already so loved at conception. “I’m so happy for the two of you, I’m gonna have to tell Rooster you know that right?”

“I never thought this day would actually come but yeah, we’re pregnant.” Amilia reached out for her husband's hand before he brought it up to his lips. “And yeah, that’s fine, but don’t tell the cowboy alright I wanna tell Rhett myself.”

“So he can tell you that you’re an idiot?” You laughed as you sat in the livingroom at midnight, feeding little Nicky. Bradley was on a mission which left you outnumbered three to one.

“Yeah, but I know he cares.” Amilia and Rhett Abbott were quite close for two people who pretended like they couldn’t stand one another.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The happiness didn’t last for very long. Seven weeks into Amilias first and what would ultimately be last, something went wrong. The kitchen was buzzing with music as she chopped up a quick garden salad to go with dinner, sausages Jake was cooking on the barbecue. She hadn’t changed out of her pyjamas all day, and had barely gotten out of bed. But as six o’clock rolled around on Saturday afternoon, Amilia felt a little more like herself and hoisted herself up.

“Almost finished with these bad boys.” Jake called out over his shoulder through the window that led back into the kitchen, he could see his wife, the love of his life in the corner of his eye. “How’s that salad looking?”

“Diced and chopped daddio—“ Amilia teased as she flicked the rest of the cherry tomatoes off the chopping board into the bowl. “I’ve just gotta add the—“ Oh, that didn’t feel good.

“Add the what babe?” Jake thought he just didn’t hear what Amilia had said, he thought he had just missed the tail end of her sentence, but she’d stopped mid sentence at the feeling of her lower abdomen cramping, like a bad period pain. “Oz?” Jake frowned as he cut the gas and took the sausages off the hot plate.

“The cheese.” Amilia clenched her jaw as she tried to breathe through the pain, it only got worse with every breath she took. “I just have to add the—Ahh!” It felt like someone had stabbed a hot knife into her and had begun to drag the aerated edge across her body. “Ahh—“

“Amilia!” Jake had all but forgotten the tray of sausages he was carrying in when he saw his wife on the floor in a heap, curling into herself to try and stop the pain. “Hey, what’s wrong, hey—?”

Breathe, in out, in out. She was fine.

“Babe I can’t help if you don’t te—“ The blood told Jake all he needed to know before Amilia could even begin to get her words out. “Oh god—no.”

“Jake—“ Her husband's name was the only thing Amilia could will herself to speak as she saw the blood between her legs, seeping into her pyjama pants. The same pyjama pants she’d been in all day because she just hadn’t felt well. “I’m fine, we’re okay, we’re fine, we’re, aaahh—!”

Everyone needs just one person in their lives who say things like ‘You got this’ ‘I believe in you’ and ‘You will find courage and energy in yourself that you normally wouldn’t have had before.’

But more importantly, that person needs to also say the things that no one wants to hear. And if things were to go wrong? They would be there in the mud for whatever reason.

Jake was that person for Amilia Fisher-Seresin. He had the ability to say something’s wrong when she couldn’t bring herself to believe it.

“Honey, I think we need to get you up to the hospital.” He had the ability to worry, to care and understand that something was horribly wrong and that there shouldn’t be this much blood or this much pain when it came to implantation bleeding and spotting. Amilia was having what Jake could only assume to be a miscarriage and all he could do in that moment was put his own feelings of grief and sorrow aside to help the only woman he’d ever truly loved. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

“No no no no no—“ Amilia cried as she bawled her fists into the cotton of Jake's t-shirt before her tears strained the white fabric. He could smell the iron in the air. “Jake—“ She sobbed. “Our baby, somethings wrong.”

“Let me take you to the emergency room sweetheart.” Jake had to hold his own tears back, this wasn’t what he pictured would happen when Amilia had told them they were gonna have a baby together. “Please? I have to make sure you’re alright baby, your bleeding and—“ Jake knew he had to say it. “You are what’s important right now, you and your health baby because I can lose that baby, I can deal with that grief but I can’t lose you both alright.” Jake felt his wife’s heart shattering as she screamed into his embrace right there on the kitchen floor. “I can’t lose you both alright so I need you to let me get you some help.”

Jake thought he was a pretty tough guy, but as his wife cried in his arms bleeding as she lost their baby on the kitchen floor, he knew he wasn’t strong enough to handle this without a support system. He needed you. He needed your strength and resistance and your determination and strength to get through this. He needed you to hold him up because his knees felt weak but he had to get up. He needed to be there for his wife through everything.

“I’m sorry—“ Amilia sobbed as Jake carried her out to the car koala style. He was going to be covered in blood but that didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered besides getting Amilia the care she needed. “I’m so sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong sweetheart.” Jake cooed. “Not a damn thing.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“We had to give her a sedative in order to examine your wife, Mr. Seresin.” Time was a fickle thing, it was neither here nor there. “She’s asleep, but for what’s it worth she’s incredibly lucky to be alive right now.” Jake could feel his phone ringing in his back pocket—you had been calling non-stop for updates ever since Amilia was taken back for an ultrasound to confirm what everyone already believed to be a miscarriage.

But he’d never remember just how he ended up standing outside his wife’s hospital room in oncology just four hours after he’d brought her into the emergency room. Jake hadn’t even had a chance to change his shirt.

“It’s critical—if we don’t get in there and operate soon, it’s hard to tell how much time she’ll actually have.” The Doctor didn’t sound like he was making any sense, Jake couldn’t process anything he was telling him. This didn’t make sense, none of it did.

“Ovarian cancer?” Jake tried to wrap his head around how his wife, how Amilia, could have ovarian cancer. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s aggressive, from the scans alone I’d say critical.” Again, nothing Doctor Thomas was saying made any sense to Jake. “Mr. Seresin, has your wife ever experienced any pain during intercourse? Painful cramps outside her normal period or—“

“Not that I’m aware of, no.” Jake knew Amilia like the back of his own hand, so the news of her diagnosis on the back of losing their child was far too much for him to handle. “What does she need? Treatment wise?”

“I can't say for certain without exploring her reproductive system more closely but if the ovaries are too far gone, we’re recommending a full hysterectomy.” Jake's brain was trying its best to compute all the little bits of information being given to him as he watched Amilia sleep. She looked as peaceful as she could be. “If the cancer is as aggressive as we believe it to be, if we leave behind any viable tissue it could spread–the miscarriage was a direct result of the tumours constricting her reproductive organs, it's a miracle she was able to convince to begin with.”

“We’d been trying for a year–” Jake explained softly, his entire world was crashing around him. All that he knew, all that he hoped for in the future was crumbling. “We had an appointment with a fertility specialist the month she fell pregnant, we never ended up going because we ended up pregnant.”

“I'm very sorry for your loss–” Doctor Thomas sympathised as he placed his hand on Jake's shoulder. The mullet kinda took away from the seriousness of his tone. “But I truly believe the miscarriage your wife suffered saved her life.” It was a take Jake never thought he’d have on such a horrid situation. “It would have killed her, she’s a very lucky woman, the blood she lost wasn't just from the miscarriage but from one of the worst ovarian torsions I’ve ever seen.”

There was so much blood, far too much blood for Jake to ever forget. He grew up on a farm, his uncle owned an abitur, he knew that humans held a lot of blood but when you physically see that much blood coming from someone you love it's hard to comprehend the magnitude of the destruction until after the fact.

“Your wife is scheduled for surgery earlier tomorrow morning, it's after visiting hours but given the circumstances i've already organised for a cot to be bright up so you can stay with her.”

“If you can't save her life without the hysterectomy, I want you to do it.” Jake nodded as he let a few stray tears fall down his cheeks. “Yeah–yeah if it's all or nothing just do it.” He pressed his lips into a fine line to try and stop his bottom lip from quivering. “But if there's even a slither of hope that you don't have to, please–just try and give her a chance, she wants to be a mum so bad.”

“I understand Mr. Seresin.” Doctor Thomas replied. “This isn't my first rodeo.”

“Unlucky for you.” Jake tried to chuckle as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It's mine.”

“Everyone I ever meet for these types of cases is their first, and if I can offer one piece of advice I’d say that there are other ways to be parents, adoption, foster care.” Doctor Thomas knew by the gaze in Jake's eyes that he was mentally checking out of the conversation. “Go be with your wife, i'll be by in the morning for post ops.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

By the time Amilia was coming to in her groggy and drugged out state, Jake had already had a good cry in the dark. The hospital room was dimly lit, Jake didn't want his wife to wake up to the harsh fluorescent lights. Hell he didn't want her to wake up in general. He wanted her to stay sleeping peacefully forever, blissfully unaware of the horrors that awaited her when she woke.

“Hey there Oz.” Jake cooed as he brushed Amilias hair from her face. “I've got you baby, I'm here.” It felt like time had stood still since she first screamed out in pain in the kitchen. Jake knew when he got home that ants would be everywhere from the sausages that had fallen from the tray he carried in and the salad you never put away. “Shhh i've got you Amilia, I’m here.”

“I lost our baby.” Amilia hadn’t even opened her eyes properly and she was already incredibly aware of the heaviness in her chest. The grief she felt inside her soul. “Jake–I lost our baby.”

“It's not your fault sweetheart.” Jake sat as close as he possibly could to his wife's bedside. “We lost our baby, I know, I know and it hurts, it hurts so much but Amilia, it's not so simple.” Jake had been dreading having this conversation, he didn't know how to tell his wife she was going in for surgery. That she was sick, that she had ovarian cancer and that they may have to perform a full hysterectomy just to save her life. “The doctors figured out why it took us so long to conceive.”

“It's me, isn't it.” It broke Jake's heart to nod, but that didn't mean he thought his wife was broken. “What's wrong with me?”

“You uh–” Jake couldn't stop himself from sobbing as he stood to climb into the hospital bed to hold his wife. “You're okay, that's the main thing okay, and you're gonna be fine once the surgery is over and I'm gonna be by your side through everything.”

“I just lost our baby, I don't think I'll ever be alright again.”

“You didn't lose our baby sweetheart, you have ovarian cancer–that's what caused the miscarriage, that's what, that's what stopped us from conceiving earlier.” Jake explained as simply and as slowly as possible as he held Amilia close to him and kissed her forehead. “Losing our baby saved your life.”

“Jake, I don't have cancer.” Amilia scoffed as she shrugged him off. “Why would you even say that right now?” Jake was caught between a rock and a hard place, he didn't know what to do or what to say. “What are you even talking about right now?” That's when it hit, Jake physically saw the moment Amilia was able to process what he had said. “Oh–” Her shoulders slumped as she settled back into him. “Oh no, no no no no I can't, I can't, I don't–”

“Shhh.” Jake cooed as he wrapped his wife back into his arms. “I'm here, I've got you, you're okay.” For everything the two had been through this was certainly about to be their biggest battle, but Jake Seresin was adamant that he would be there every step of the way. “Our baby saved your life, and I'll never be able to thank them enough.”

“How bad is it?” Amilia sobbed into Jake's chest. “The cancer? And be honest Jake, please dont lie to me.”

“It's bad enough.” Jake sobbed as he held Amilia closer than he ever had before. “I'm just grateful you're alive.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

#ailesswhumptober2023 #terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #terms of endearment // jake seresin #jake seresin x female oc #jake seresin whump #tw: miscarriage #tw: ovarian cancer

166 notes · View notes

shubhragoyal · 11 months

Text

Pre-Pregnancy Counseling: A Stepping Stone to Parenthood

Do you have a baby bump? Yes! Then, before you jump in the air with joy, you should take a look at pregnancy counseling, because expecting a baby requires a lot of acceptance and awareness, and that makes it a stepping stone to parenthood, a path of responsibility and mindfulness.

Pre-pregnancy counseling is a motto that pre-empts the certain risk factors pertaining a women’s, the fetus and neonatal health from entering an unfavorable phase. The one-to-one interaction with the professional can be a great aide in optimizing the health care of mother and child, which also extends to the family ties, as their care is invested from the first days.

Education about the pregnancy journey in pre-pregnancy course is open to all genders, sexualities and parents, as they offer a holistic approach to better parenting. Regardless of whether you are planning a pregnancy or using contraception, the pre-pregnancy counseling is applicable to both parties.

As the saying goes, health status can't be the same forever, over growing time potential risks can occur anytime. Thus, pre-pregnancy counseling does not last for a day, but it occurs several times for ensuring a healthy and happy baby journey!

Day in and out whenever an expectant mother gets counselled, fresh knowledge is added to her advantage for handling the situation. There is a certainty of several chronic conditions viz; diabetes, hypertension, thyroid and mental health require monitoring during pre-pregnancy for a desirable outcome.

In the pre-pregnancy counseling sessions, a crucial assessment for examining STDs is a must with a vivid screening for any probable genetic conditions that might pass down to the life growing inside.

The other important matter of concern here is to debrief on possible strong addictions namely, liquor, nicotine consumption, drugs or any other medicines taken for some underlining or nonmedical reasons.

There is also a significant survey conducted on partner violence during intimacy during prepregnancy counseling as it has entirely a direct impact on the mother and child both.

The expert guidance - Suggestions from the desk of the American College of Obstetrician and Gynecologists

The ACOG institute emphasizes the opportunity to stroke the iron hard and discuss overall wellness, and healthy habits as a routine irrespective of the patient for a successful outcome.

“Would you like to become pregnant next year?” Serves the purpose, of the right to speak out one's heart for suitable guidance without coyness.

The goal of prepregnancy counseling is to ensure a pregnancy that is away from the instructions and if any challenges occur one has the tact to handle it with expert guidance.

An annual influenza inoculation is mandatory for every patient unbiased as it is for additional benefit.

Prepregnancy is not limited to basic health checkups and discussions a patient's lifestyle and underlining conditions are crucial to tap on! If discovered to be a specific virus prone or any infection or allergies due to climate/ certain food types must be cautioned beforehand as travelling is a massive no.

Appropriate nourishment and vitamins are so significant for a healthy pregnancy tenure. Always fall back on your medical adviser for the proportion of food intake that suits your body the best during the prepregnancy period.

Read More: https://www.drshubhragoyal.com/welcome/blogs/pre-pregnancy-counseling:-a-stepping-stone-to-parenthood

1 note · View note

themodernwitchsguide · 6 months

Text

the ogham alphabet and their divinatory meanings

FIRST AICME

ᚁ beith

UPRIGHT: joyful beginnings, new possibilities, renewal and rebirth--even if it is uncomfortable

REVERSED: a blind path, wasted efforts, fixation on the past, longing for the impossible

ᚂ luis

UPRIGHT: clarity, attention to detail, purification, danger avoided or overcome, two paths are open to you

REVERSED: vulnerability, uncertainty, deception, delusion, something (possibly your own emotions) is misleading you

ᚃ fearn

UPRIGHT: protection and guidance, emotional security, good advice, prophecy, unexpected solution(s), music, poetry

REVERSED: willful blindness, refusal to listen to advice, arrogance or not enough information

ᚄ saille

UPRIGHT: go with the flow, intuition, dreaming, unconscious, letting go of preconceptions, feminine energy/connection to the moon

REVERSED: inability to adapt, feeling defeated or lost, lack of movement, difficulty that will inevitably pass

ᚅ nuin

UPRIGHT: connection and transformation, being a part of something bigger, fate, divine action/inspiration

REVERSED: isolation and boredom, being blind to (either good or bad) possibilities, take control and be assertive

SECOND AICME

ᚆ huath

UPRIGHT: patience, protection/purification, reserve, feeling suffocated, problems that will eventually change, self-sacrifice

REVERSED: you are acting too hasty, take a second to think OR you're at a standstill, you need to take action

ᚇ duir

UPRIGHT: sacred spaces, forward movement, power and energy, the power to endure, leadership, endurance

REVERSED: help from those in power, success despite means, borrowed strength, a gift, cowardliness

ᚈ tinne

UPRIGHT: challenges or tests, recommends decisive action, balance, integrity, talent/skill/expertise, growth

REVERSED: attack, hardship, aggression, lack of direction or balance

ᚉ coll

UPRIGHT: knowledge and learning, transformation and flexibility, creativity, daydreaming, rituals/divination

REVERSED: intellectual/creative blockages (art/writer's block), lack of insight, fear of failure, ignorance

ᚊ quert

UPRIGHT: happiness, healing, beauty, love affairs, awakenings and new experiences, opportunity (or the choice) to live more fully

REVERSED: despair, ailments, unavoidable choice(s), mixed gain/loss, procrastination

THIRD AICME

ᚋ muin

UPRIGHT: inspiration, prophecy or psychic senses, community and celebration, freedom, rest, examine life's lessons

REVERSED: burdens, difficulties, a need to relax/unwind, you're strung out or trying too hard OR overindulging

ᚌ gort

UPRIGHT: slow/indirect progress, wildness, purpose, determination, transformation, follow life's path

REVERSED: entanglement, think twice about what you're doing, and arduous path

ᚍ ngetal

UPRIGHT: vitality, awareness of environment, creating order from chaos, prioritizing personal health, you aren't finished yet

REVERSED: inability to act, need for healing and patience, you aren't ready to act yet OR you have done all you can

ᚎ straif

UPRIGHT: necessity/inevitability, fate or omens, death, rebirth, some things cannot be changed, wheel of fortune

REVERSED: pain, difficulty, retribution, necessary suffering, no choice is a good one

ᚏ ruis

UPRIGHT: resolution, completion, looking ahead, omen of success, difficulties permanently overcome

REVERSED: endings and departures, face the facts, shame, illness/disability

FOURTH AICME

ᚐ ailm

UPRIGHT: insight, grounded in the present, clear vision, start new project(s), new perspective, foresight

REVERSED: ignorance of the broader picture, unrealistic ideas, step back and reassess, fear and anxiety

ᚑ onn

UPRIGHT: energy, life, vigor, sexuality, attraction, gathering together, consider changing your life's direction

REVERSED: difficulties and delays, overconfidence, taking too many risks, unrealistic desires

ᚒ uhr

UPRIGHT: spiritual/magical power, forces of nature, deep connections, fulfillment, death and memories of loved ones

REVERSED: deception, deceit, loss of contact with nature/spirits, need for recuperation/reconnection in a relationship

ᚓ eadhadh

UPRIGHT: courage and tenacity, a struggle for victory, quest for inner strength, enlightenment

REVERSED: addiction, terror, declining health, compromise and negotiation, choosing a different path

ᚔ iodhadh

UPRIGHT: ancestry, aging or dying, things unchanging, old age, memory

REVERSED: stagnation and immobility, death or mourning, the past is a burden, things lingering past their prime

FORFEDHA

ᚕ eabhadh

UPRIGHT: spiritual wisdom, complexity, place of balance/harmony, presence of many factors, spiritual wisdom

REVERSED: confusion, bewilderment, too many factors at work to allow for a successful prediction/decision

ᚖ oir

UPRIGHT: radical transformation, abundance, sudden illumination or destruction that is set about by outside forces

REVERSED: patience, preparation, the path before you is a slow one, wait for outside forces to act

ᚗ uilleann

UPRIGHT: knowledge and lore, learning and study, wisdom of the past as a guide, private thoughts or secrets

REVERSED: ignorance, failure to learn from the past, future instead of past

ᚘ ifin

UPRIGHT: secrets and revelations, subtle influences, releasing emotions of guilt/shame

REVERSED: the situation is not as it seems, the information that you need is not available to you

ᚙ eamancholl

UPRIGHT: unexpected change, arrival of new influence, illness

REVERSED: sudden endings or disruptions

59 notes · View notes