The birth of a mother

I am coming more and more into the fluidity of my second pregnancy, embodying the sweet suppleness of my rounding boobs and belly, ripening like the delicious fruits of late summer.

And with my body softening, my intuition taking over, I am called to surrender into the flow of creation. Tune into my deepest soul callings. Feeling my sense of purpose and sovereignty as I am tapping into the unconditional well of the creation that I am a vessel for in this moment.
This is one aspect of pregnancy that I love so very much. The physical embodiment of our creation. We all create and birth in any given moment. It's just that pregnancy makes this a very palpable experience.

As I ride the watery waves of this beautiful journey I begin to peel away the layers that want to achieve and do, what the mind says will bring success. I am more attuned to what the soul needs to voice instead.

And I am becoming aware again, of the transition we undergo from maiden to motherhood. The actual birth of a mother. We always talk about the baby's birth, but the birth of a mother can be just as painful, resistant, or in the case of my first pregnancy excruciating in relation to my baby's birth, that felt so smooth and divine.

When we become mothers, not only does pregnancy challenge us to surrender. We also need to let many aspects of our self-concept die. A lesson in letting go. A lasting physical transformation. We need to learn and practise radical acceptance and self-love for the mother we are becoming.

In my last postpartum time, after slowly crawling out of the deep and dark cobweb of months and months of depression in solitude and isolation I signed up for a training with the brilliantly attuned Julia Jones, to become a postpartum practitioner. At that time I didn't know how that would unfold with my work. Matter of fact I wanted to help myself get better and understand what had happened to and for me.
Through studying Julia's beautifully deep wisdom of Ayurveda, doula-work, hormonal interplay and all our different cultural predispositions, I began to understand.
We don't live in a culture that allows us to truly surrender to shifting into motherhood. Most of us have no elders and tribes that hold and support us. Other women to share our stories with, unpreoccupied.

If becoming a mother doesn't feel all natural or easy we are ashamed of it. We compare us to other picture perfect families on instagram, shaming ourselves for not being that.

Most of us never learned to embrace the process of growing and birthing a child for what it is: A holy journey of initiation into the deepest, most profound depth of ourself. And that is not an easy one to travel. We are given a shortcut to tap into our own wounds and patterns. And once our children are born – whoooof!
Hello constant rush of triggers! We can either take it out on our children who are our great teachers and mirrors, or we can surrender to the ride and do the work within.

And then we are supposed to continue living our very linear orientated jobs and lifes and just function. How can anyone be surprised that that causes suffering whilst being in the uttermost fluid and receptive state.

I can't even begin to explain the joys and luxury of being able to experience this journey a second time with this understanding and the ability to live by my own inner waves.

This time around I am looking forward to embrace the darker hours, build a sanctuary for myself to be held in when needed. And never again will I be silent when I see a young mother struggling. If you are a mother and you see another suffering, make some tea, offer an embrace and silently acknowledge her tears, guilt and shame without judgement. This is the ultimate antidote to healing our society at its core. Let us hold the mothers in this society dearly, so they can hold the world.