Feeling very grateful that one of my most joyful decisions this holiday was who makes a better unicorn. What do you think?
I see it all now.
I see you cleaning up after me as I clean up after her. We're like a train moving thru the house, following one another. I pick up toys and you pick up what I put down to be there for her.
I see your sacrifices; you'll stay home tonight because I'm visiting and I'll stay home because she still needs to nurse to sleep.
I see your struggle to make everyone happy.
I see your selflessness.
I believe you when you say you'd do anything for me.
Because now, I feel the same way.
If I could pay you back for all the sacrifices I would... but I'm too busy sacrificing.
Know that I understand.
Know that I see you Mothering me.
Know that I see you.
THIS. Careful. It's a portal to deep love and you'll never, ever go back. Feel it?✨pew pew!✨
Real life magic today reminded me that anything and everything is possible. Dream on!
Some days (like today), I really feel the changes. I miss my friends. I miss flying by the seat of my pants. I miss my old definition of freedom. It's days like today that I'm super grateful for my spiritual practice within the framework of Motherhood. As I squirm in the discomfort of loss, I
remember that loosing my self is exactly the point and instead of being totally overtaken by it, I can consciously say yes to what's dying. Yes yes yes. (Repeating it helps, 'cause this ain't easy).
I faced the myth of 'the perfect mother' head on this week. Eye to eye, I stared her down (for now). She's a feisty one, instilling guilt over many choices. This stare down shook me to my core as I held my sleeping baby and wept. But that perfect mother, that myth, that vision I can't uphold left me with a gift. Now, I no longer look at my Mother from a child's eyes; we are women standing side by side, in sisterhood and Motherhood held by the depth of our love, and doing the best we know how. Thank you Mama for all that you did and do.
Bless this journey.
...I just can't imagine a world without you."
...And sometimes, we choose sleep over meals. Because chewing just seems like so much work.
3.5 months old: I know she looks like my husband - and I love that! But today someone told me that she won't look Asian forever because her kids started out looking that way too. She was trying to comfort me with her Caucasian child alongside.
Last week, two people asked me if she was mine.
I'm seeing a whole new angle of racism now - even in children's books which often lack kids of colour playing the lead role. World, we've got some work to do.
Don't stop bouncing! (She likes it so much that sometimes, we bounce for two whole hours together. She gets to chill and I get to practice patience, presence, and strength.)
A new best friend, because when you want to play from 1:30am until dawn, you end up making friends with monsters. I know I did.
...And then I was pregnant.
Suddenly everything around me was part of creating a new life. A life I would love very much. A life that needed protection and nourishment. Every single piece of me and my world was going into this creation and all of a sudden, as if I woke up out of a dream, I saw things very differently.
...And then I birthed.
A whirlwind of power took over my body and connected me instantly to all the women who birthed before. I felt this world (the one I stand on with my barefeet), and another world (a deeply familiar, yet seemingly far away place that only my spirit could access), come together under the light in my bedroom. This power, this force, was so great that I saw both death and birth combine in the same moment.
...And then I became a Mother.
Nothing has reflected my humanness so deeply. Some days all I see are my flaws and I keep trying to polish that damned mirror so I can hide them from her. But I know she needs to see them and I know she needs to see me love them, because she’ll have 'flaws' too.
And then some days, I see just how great I’m doing. The power of love has opened and shifted so many of the stories I no longer need.
Tonight's gift from the sidewalk:
13 weeks postpartum. It can be isolating - there's a whole lot of her and I for most of the days. And it can joyful beyond belief for the exact same reason. Grateful for nature sits that are balancing and nourishing both of us (and some hand chewing for her too). Delicious.
As I move through Motherhood and reflect on my baby’s birth, I am just so grateful for you. So, so grateful.
It’s a funny thing to get to know someone in prep for your birth. I mean, I could say that we just met… that we don’t know each other very well. And yet, you know parts of me that even I have just met. And you’re just as loving with them as I’d want you to be.
And then we go back to our life. You live there. I live here. It’s a weird transition to have you so deeply in my life, and then, out of it. You of course, have more Mothers to support and more births to attend. But dare I say… I want more. The deep love that I have surrounding birth has extended to you.
Your sisterhood is a gift. Your support was a gift. The time we spent together is sacred to me.
In watching my birth video and viewing our pictures, I saw just how much of a gift it was to have you there. Your presence was solid, continuous, and loving. Looking at the pictures, I didn’t know you were by my side the whole time because you had done it so seamlessly.. in a way that guided me and didn’t interrupt me. You let me labour as me, and acted as support in the background. But when I needed you front and centre, you were right there.
You were so present it was like you were birthing right along with me; birthing yourself, once again, as a woman feeling the depth of sisterhood and support. You, my doula, are in your element supporting woman birthing. It was an honour to have you.
I'm aware that I now post baby pics all the time. Completely aware. It might be temporary. It might not.
The thing is, this is what I do every waking second. And sometimes the sleep filled ones too. What you may not understand (or maybe you do), is that this little being came from afar and manifested herself inside me. Inside! My blood, my cells, my breath and my thoughts have all created her. And yes this story is as old as time, and you've heard it all before... but the feelings that go along with this gift are the hardest to explain. My heart is hers.
And now she's here, with her hand on my heart as if to say she understands.
She's learning to be human and waking me the eff up (in many ways) as we move (and sometimes trip) along this path together.
"Making the decision to have a child - it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." E. Stone
As she grows, I'm watching her gain more and more strength and independence. And I’m so happy she does. Yet, as each day passes, as moments seemingly slip by, I see how fond I am of each one of them. It seems that Mothering is a big lesson on letting go. (Oh the irony in attachment parenting!)
Sundaze. Using moments like this as a portal to the purest of loves.
2 days before birth vs. 2 months after. This Pisces full moon has me reflecting on the last few weeks of pregnancy... the waiting...the feeling of being in limbo...of being between worlds... my old self and my new Mama self all waiting to meet my new baby and wondering what life will be like after baby. But now I know it's not something I could've prepared for in advance. Words like magical, intense, challenging and ecstacy are all trumped by the actual experience of Motherhood. Again, I find myself comforted only by this moment right here. This breath. And then this one... Because what's to come is beyond what my mind can comprehend.
The truth of this week is that the postpartum monster has bit me and damn it, I'm not immune. The heat wave has us indoors more than I'd like and she caught her first cold (don't even get me started on the heartbreak of her first cold!) - bringing the lack of sleep to a whole new level.
These moments, this Mothering, is a complete identity shift. I'm redefining myself (or she's redefining me) and I HAVE TO LET GO of certain things... And I'm grieving them. There is death in this Mothering process and it's uncomfortable. I'm watching it with curiosity, seeing what parts of me I'm attached to and others I can more willingly let go of. Sometimes there's relief but sometimes there's a whole lot of tears. A wise friend recently said to me: "Motherhood is the most joy and the most shit (literally) all balled up together."
So here we go, approaching amother (another) new day as a new me. She's pretty new too so we understand each other on that front. And then, she gifts me moments like this one that remind me we're going to be just fine.