14 January 2017
Dear Baby Liam,
I have been wondering what to write into my letter for you, as you are exactly 39 weeks old today. My mind has stopped reflecting obsessively and is rather looking forward to the day you are born, encouraged by the aches and limits of my body which longs for the day to come closer. Yet, my soul sits in stillness as both of our souls get ready to disconnect on a physical level. It is an exciting time, enriching, awakening.
In the past few weeks, I have seen my dreams come true, sufferings let go of, and trust in the universe restored. I recall that night of New Years Eve, when I went for a walk and told myself that I don’t want drama anymore – the drama I create with my attachment to specific images, with the domination of my ego over my spirituality, the astronomic expectations I set to myself and others and surely my rejection of forgiveness and healing. Since that night, a serene sense of calm has set in, in a way I would have never imagined. When I sit in stillness and watch my thoughts, opinions or judgements pass by like clouds on a sunny day, I regain this trust I have been longing for such a long time.
I don’t believe that I have to have everything figured out before formally becoming a mother; that I have to have faced my shadows and healed 100 %, that I am supposed to have a plan for everything and plans b to z as well – no. But I have the trust that it will work out without the need to rationally explain my next steps and to lay out the plan of parenting and schooling and nursing and all the things that seem like they fit onto a list.
Complete, 100-percent, perfect healing is something that I don’t even believe can be achieved (how would that be measured anyway?). But being on the way, being ready to sit in stillness and in calm, and allowing myself to detach from the wounds of the past in order to immerse into real feelings of the here and now, is what has been filling me with an incredible amount of strength.
As long as I believed that I had to fix my wounds and cover up my scars in an attempt to reach perfection, I was lost on the way. I was trying to fix those wounds with food, hunger, alcohol, drugs, work, cigarettes — but my wounds stayed open and stained my life — over and over and over again. Why did these feelings of emptiness keep on returning? Was it life trying to convey a message to me?
The inner void returned and returned until I found the strength through trust in the universe – a trust which let me open the wounds, sit with the pain that was holding me in the past and finally make peace with it.
From here, where I stand, I understand the lesson was that control is an illusion.
Amazed by this, I am taking this wisdom with me to the process of labor and giving birth: Control is an illusion (and, interestingly, it is often the source of more pain during labor).
Our bodies have the whole thing figured out. Mother Nature has everything figured out. And again, fear and anxiety falls off of me to make space for this trust that is unexplainable, that is beautiful beyond measure, and does not need words.
I wish for you that you are able to feel this trust, to be born into this trust, knowing that it will be alright, and that you have nothing to fear. And I promise to do what I can to help you build this trust in your time here on earth – which will sometimes be frustrating and close to impossible to believe in, but remember that you are a spiritual being just about to enter the human earth experience. You come from love and that is where you will return. I wish you a beautiful, inspiring journey here on earth.