It’s 2023. I am 13 years into motherhood, though my child has not yet turned 13. But, that many years ago he was very much within my womb. A womb that I didn’t really have a relationship with barring monthly angst for a really long time. Then, suddenly, a tiny creature built his home there. Nestled in my center and core, he grew and grew and grew. And then one day, they told me he wasn’t growing. Something was wrong.
It was then, really, that the disconnect between he and I began.
I gave birth to my medically fragile little guy in July 2010. The doctors were a bit shocked that he weighed a whopping six pounds. The ultrasound made a “reasonable guess” he would only be around four. My providers believed that they saw signs of intrauterine growth delay. Thought my amniotic fluids were too low. But there was water leaking onto my OB’s waders sometime after midnight and there was this baby. A six pound one forced from his mothers womb about three weeks too soon.
I’ve been writing about this journey lately. Becoming a mother. The hardship of having perinatal anxiety and depression and rage; much of this influenced by chronic dis-ease and maternal and communal disconnect.
Speaking of disconnect, I have come to realize that for many, many years I was the expert of detaching from person, place and circumstance. From my body. From my life. As I spoke with a friend today, I was reminded of the reconnect though. The good that came from coming undone. We all have experiences that unravel us, darling soul. It’s not the end point though. We keep on. We keep going. Things shift. We grow.
Have you met disconnect, dysfunction, doubt or dis-ease?
If so, did you stay in it?
Or did something beautiful and wonderful occur to push you out of the box and into wide open spaces where healing pulsed through your being, worked through your veins, an elixir for an ill shining forth?
13 years ago, I gave birth to my six pound medically fragile son. Today, I wrapped my arms around his healthy body and (with his consent) gave him a long hug. He is my “beautiful and wonderful something” that pushed me into the sacred space where I am today. He is how I reconnected with my body and my life. He’s even how I ended up in my career path as a doula. And while I’m human and that connection with self does ebb and flow, I can honestly say that the flow is my baseline now.
What a worthy work this has been!
What's Next
Like a cloth, when we come undone we will not be stitched back together the same. Some might think this a terrible, awful thing. Personally, I see this as living. For me it would be a terrible, awful thing to not do so. To not live. Even if it means I experience trials and tribulations and suffering and pain.
So if you’ve come undone… if you’ve been stretched beyond recognition… if you are slowly being sewn back together… if you are headed toward some holy flow and you just haven’t reached it yet…
Know there is beauty up ahead.
It might not come in the way that you would prefer.
But maybe you can be okay with that?
I love you and I’m thankful to be writing to you tonight. To know you and love and light and life. For all that has happened and for all that is up ahead.
It’s a wild ride.
But peace does find us.
Squeezes, kindred soul -
J. 🌻 @thebarefootpreacher
Feel free to share this When We Come Undone contemplation with a friend. And through both of us, may we unite and love on the masses.
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Thank you for sharing ❤️