A Spiritual Cleansing

As we prepared for this latest round of IVF, Emily and I worked hard to:

• Come to terms with the past
• Remain in the right mindset for the present and future

Fortunately for us, the Jewish religion offers the perfect vehicle for this:

The mikveh.

This ritual bath is a source of purification, commonly used, for instance, by Orthodox women following their menstrual period. But, as I understand it, anyone can use it for almost any reason.

In the summer of 2018, a few months after we’d lost our unborn daughter during the 20th week of pregnancy, Emily went to the mikveh as part of her recovery process. The experience helped her emotionally prepare to try to get pregnant again.

A few weeks ago, she went back — and I went with her.

Mikveh ceremonies consist of three immersions in the water, each of which is accompanied by a reading. A witness also must be present to ensure you fully submerge yourself. For me, that was my father, while Emily, my mom, our cousin and rabbi listened from just outside. (Men and women cannot be in the mikveh area at the same time.)

Emily and I created our own individual ceremonies, cherry-picking a few of our favorite readings from this website while also mixing in some applicable song lyrics from one of our favorite artists, Joshua Radin.

With my ceremony, I wanted to focus on:

• Healing
• Mourning
• Gratitude

Healing

To set the intention before my first plunge:

Mourning

For mourning, I wanted to honor our five unborn children we’ve lost during Emily’s four pregnancies:

I then recited the following from Joshua Radin’s song, “High and Low” — lyrics that give me hope that someday, Emily and I will be reunited with the children we’ll never get to meet in this life:

Gratitude

Though it can be fleeting, gratitude, as much as anything, has helped me cope with our struggles. Which is why I chose this third reading:

Reflections

I’ll admit it…I’m not the most religious person. And before Emily used it last year, I hardly knew what a mikveh was. I also had no idea how it would feel to stand naked in a pool, reciting biblical-esque readings with my father looking on.

(Thanks to the room’s configuration, my dad was actually spared from seeing anything more graphic than my nipples.)

But now that I’ve done it, I’m glad that I did.

While there were times when I was pulled out of the moment, too preoccupied with what I was supposed to say or do, overall, the experience was nothing but positive.

And what I got out of it can probably best be summed up by my favorite lyrics from one of my favorite Joshua Radin songs, “Brand New Day,” which I recited prior to my final plunge: