After a month, I found out I was pregnant. A sudden silence occupied the chaos. It was like, after spinning in high speed, the world had pushed pause. During full quarantine, after several days of heavy emotions, my body decided to end the pregnancy before it even had really begun. What followed was a profound sadness and guilt: I felt betrayed by my own body and at the same time, guilty about my sadness, for it had been “nothing“ so far. For a brief moment, I was a soon-to-be mother of two. And what struck me most − I knew all along before having any evidence in my hand. I began to be aware of the connection again, of my mind and body, of my instincts, my female intuition.
In order to fight against an overwhelming feeling of paralysis, I picked up the camera and began documenting what was around me. My daughter, my partner, myself, and what I missed so much − nature, little moments outside, forbidden walks to a nearby lagoon where I encountered a magical world. Nature had regained space, the lake lay crystal clear in the middle of Buenos Aires, teeming with birds and fish. I started to feel my part in a greater ecosystem, as a mother and as a woman, analyzing this connection with our inner animal.
Technically, by nature, humans don’t undergo metamorphosis, but this quarantine somehow felt as if we do. Only the outcome is still unclear.