A Love Affair
I’m “backish” to work. Easing into using my brain and my creativity after having my third child, Hazel, in June. With every birth, I experience a massive shift in who I am. I believe that birth opens a portal from the spirit realm to the earthly realm, and I am the gate allowing for a soul to move from one plane to another. The pregnancy, labor, and early weeks are chock-full of challenges, lessons, and opportunities to become more of who I am meant to be, not only for my baby, but for my growth as a woman.
One pattern I noticed, around 6 weeks after Hazel was born, was how I felt like a victim. My energy was low, I felt down and protective of my system. I had also gained 20 pounds in 6 weeks.
I tuned in to my body and asked her what was going on. She felt down, defeated, apathetic, and bruised. I asked my body what she needed, and she said, “Dance and I’ll tell you.”
First I felt so much joy, like my body was being let out of a dark cage. I danced like a wild woman around the Moon Lodge until I could barely breathe.
And then I started sobbing, dropped to my knees, and almost threw up. I felt a volcano of energetic dark sludge erupting out of body through my mouth, and I couldn’t stop crying or heaving. I stayed with the feelings and asked them what they were, trying so hard to allow it all to move through.
What was coming through was the trauma of giving birth, all 3 times. My births weren’t more traumatic than anyone else’s; I’m not in any special circumstance. Each birth, even the most beautiful, is a trauma to the body. And just because birth is something a lot of women go through, doesn’t mean it’s no big deal. It’s a HUGE rite of passage that turns our bodies inside out and changes who we are forever.
But I was soaking in a story of “Birth happened TO me.” Like if I was in a war, I was a scared little girl hiding in the corner who emerged a victim – bruised, petrified, and downtrodden. But if birth is a sacred battle (and I believe it is), what is TRUE is that I am a sacred warrior who fought bravely and led myself full force through the portal and into the battle of birth. As in all battles, I emerged tired and scarred – but NOT a victim. I did not lose. So instead of cowering in the corner, I am welcoming the regalia of nourishment and worship that a warrior Queen deserves when she returns from battle proud and victorious.
Our culture tells us that women after birth are ugly, frumpy, fat, undesirable, washed up, and ruined. With our bodies no longer tight and young, we lose respect. And, I admit, I was taking on that story. But, after birth, we deserve to be EXALTED. Celebrated. Worshipped for the magical life-bearers that we are. The priestesses of life. My invitation is for you to look at places in your life where you might be embodying the victim… but are actually the sacred warrior. Hit reply and let me know what you find; I love hearing from you.
So much love,
Simple actions to take your life back, know your worth & feel alive no matter how drained, overwhelmed and far gone you feel.