Vulnerable. It’s the word that resonated for me the moment a doctor pulled our daughter from my womb, and it’s the one that I return to when I’m contemplating motherhood. My whole heart was suddenly outside of my body the day she was born. I knew this would expand my capacity to feel and to love, and I also knew that my heart would get farther and farther away from its protective cage as my daughter grew, expanding my capacity to feel that vulnerability. Surrendering to this lesson, this truth, has not been easy.
At the time I also remember wondering if they added a sizeable dose of guilt to my IV that day, because I felt the weight of that vulnerability coupled with a parent’s responsibility along with a motherload of anxiety and mistrust in my capabilities to sustain a human life outside of myself. I learned years later that I was not alone in these feelings.
Delivered to My Healing
Ours was a rocky start, which didn’t serve to buffer the naturally intense emotions that come with post-delivery hormones. I’d had contractions throughout my pregnancy, a product of my unknown nutrient deficiencies at the time, which heightened my first-timer anxiety. And when my water broke, the meconium in the amniotic fluid forced us to the hospital where we discovered she was breech. In that moment, the drug-free labor choices I’d hoped to make for my body and hers were no longer options. My body felt trapped. And being trapped felt traumatic.
This was all before our daughter took her first breath. It was all before we struggled with breastfeeding, before she was colicky, before the sleep deprivation, before her sensory sensitivities, food sensitivities, and her IgA deficiency diagnosis.
I share this story, because it was a turning point in my healing. There have been many turning points in my healing since that day, but this is one that stands out: the day I delivered our first child. While I tended to my daughter’s health with the fierceness of a mama bear, I didn’t realize that she was delivering me to my healing. The struggles with my daughter’s health (and eventually my son’s, too) in addition to my personal challenges with new mom-hood and the trials of guiding and nurturing another human body and soul proved to be the magic and medicine I needed to catalyze healing in my body, mind, heart, and soul.
I See You
My daughter is twelve now. My children still deliver me to my healing everyday, because this is how mothering works, if we allow and embrace the offering from our little soul mates. I’m grateful to witness so many other moms accept this gift of healing from their children, too.
While my aim will always be to catalyze revolutionary healing for all womxn, I have a particular passion for partnering with moms, because I know the power and potential of having our whole hearts living and breathing and moving and growing outside of our bodies. If you’re a mom in any sense of the word—adoptive mom, mom to pets, biological mom, step-mom, mom who lost a child, a mom who wanted a child—I imagine you know the vulnerability I’m talking about, and therefore, the potential for learning, growth, and transformation this role offers.
Photos: Photography by Krysha
I just wanted to share this with all the moms today. I see you. I’m here with and for you.
