Still healing
I started this blog a few weeks, oh my … maybe a month or two ago, and like most things in my life when it comes to things not related to work, like this blog - something that falls under that passion project umbrella, there just isn’t enough time. But I think there is such value in these shares and so here I am sharing this story of my healing journey because I know that I’m not alone in this. I’ve journeyed to a place with much healing even since starting this, with so much to go too, but that in itself is so beautiful to share.
This post began one morning recently while waiting for the car to heat up, where I opened Instagram to amuse myself in the 2 spare minutes I had before needing to very much be on my way. A LOT of my friends are having babies or just had babies, and my Instagram feed is filled with babies. It’s nothing out of the ordinary to see baby images ( I mean I document babies every day so some of these are even my images) so I was unprepared for what I was about to experience, although, at the heart of it, it’s not a shock really because, to be honest, I’m still in a place of healing, although every day better, stronger and with more understanding in my journey. And, I’m starting to really understand that and be ok with the process of it.
My friend had given birth to triplets and my heart has been overjoyed for her. I was delighted and happy for her to see they were all healthy and things were going well, and that she seems to be doing really well too (too often people are checking in on the babes in the newborn world, and the mother is overlooked, but the mother is ever so important too). I scrolled through the images to the hum of the heat warming me up, and unprepared for what happened, one photo stopped me. It stopped my heart. I froze. And, I could feel the rush of emotions flood over me with the tears coming in strong.
”Stop”, I said to myself.
But I couldn’t stop, tears filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.
I put the car in drive, ignoring my own blurry vision and as I started to drive, I tried to convince myself to just be strong, to stop, to be ok… it’s been 18 months. Just stop.
But, the fact of the matter is I’m not there yet. I’m so much I want to be. I want to be ok. But, I’m not.
I asked my therapist (admitting this publicly feels scary but also I think there shouldn’t be shame in taking care of your mental health and seeing my therapist has been such an important part of my healing journey since becoming a mother) the other day with tears in my eyes. “Why am I not ok yet? Why?!? It’s been 18 months”.
She, as she always does, with wisdom and calm in her response, pointed out that everyone’s journey is different, and that even as I might not think I am not ok, there actually is so much that is ok.
She’s right. So much is good and grouping everything into the not ok pile isn’t fair to the things that are ok.
Despite the hard stuff, which has been a lot, and up to the very end of 2019, it really was like one thing after another. But, there has been one big thing was good, better than good - great.
Oscar. My son.
It’s true, we did have a hard start. Yes, it’s still hard at times, but that’s motherhood and childhood, and having hit the tantrum stage early (cause he isn’t 2 yet so wth!?) it’s definitely been a little trickier lately. But nothing is perfect. The world isn’t perfect. I mean, I’m literally writing this while there is this intense COVD-19 thing happening. And despite that, despite it all, there is so much good.
Even with the chaos and the hard, there is so much beauty in it all. Every day it gets better, even when it doesn’t, there are little wins and such deeply joyful moments that you know deep down is great, like really really great.
I’ve worked so hard on being a good mother and every day I’m learning more and more. I’ve given so much of myself to my son, making sure that he is happy, healthy and very much loved. He’s my favourite little person and the love of my life. Seeing him grow each day, watching him learn new things daily and seeing how he understands more and more, it amazes me.
But if it’s all so good, why write this blog? And what was that photo that triggered me, you ask?
Well, the thing I cant really control, something I’ve been trying to understand and I think it’s just a matter of time before I can, is my story of his birth. And I say my story because even though it’s his birth, I don’t want him to have the trauma of what I felt. Despite the good the birth brought by bringing me my son, it was a time that caused much trauma and heartache for me personally. And the photo that triggered me was a photo from a birth that showed a moment I had looked forward to but didn’t experience it, and that absence for me triggers me to remember all the things from his birth that I have yet to heal from. A trigger for me, a deep, hard trigger is that moment a baby is born… that iconic photo of a baby entering the world. Umbilical cord still attached, covered in vernix & blood and little limbs stretched out like they never have before. And that was the photo, as beautiful as it is, that appeared without warning and set me off.
I’m almost done writing our birth story and I’m still working through it with mindfulness work. I’m still trying to be ok with the experience. I’m trying to heal, but what I’m coming to learn is that everything is a process. You can’t force it. You need to just allow it to happen for you how it needs to happen.
Now 20 months later (as I actually finish this post) and that moment a baby is born still fills my heart with emotions I can’t quite explain. That moment triggers me to rush back to my fourth trimester darkness and the days following our birth where things unraveled and I felt so very sad and isolated.
But even since starting this post, in the two months, I’ve felt stronger in it. In fact, there are two times I’ve felt stronger than before as being a photographer has brought me into the operating room for two mamas during the caesareans and those experiences provided healing for me in a beautiful way.
What I’ve learned in becoming a mother is that we all have our own journeys and stories. Everything is unique and deeply personal. And, not everyone will understand yours. And that’s ok.
Today in listening to a podcast while getting in a quick shower knowing a mile-long list of to-dos was waiting for me, I was listening to the ladies from For the Wild Femme and their podcast the Spiritual Smackdown. They were talking about Leaders. They talked about how no matter where we are, there might be someone who hasn’t learned the things we have. Even though we might not feel like we are perfect and fully really to take that leap to start “teaching” or leading, or start something new, that there is actually so much we have learned that we might not realize.
It hit me deep. It hit me so deep because one thing I know and have always believed is that there is no spot in our life where we should stop learning, or stop doing, because when we stop, that’s the most boring place to be, or maybe even the place where we are no more.
All our experiences are in us, and from those experiences, we have (I know I have) learned so much. We all have our callings, those little voices inside us telling us “do this.. follow this path”, this little urge or maybe a big urge to jump on that… to do something big. So do it.
And so while I’m in a sense figuring that out, I’m also pretty happy to know I feel it in my bones that I’m someone that believes to teach by experience, and that by human experiences, through conversation and sharing, we can help others around us heal and find solace in our words, we can find ourselves on a journey of bettering, of healing.
There will be ebs and flows, bumps…. think of them of waves. Waves can be beautiful, and you can ride a wave, conquer it and feel such triumph in riding the wave you thought you’d never be able to conquer. And that’s a beautiful thing. But don’t forget, don’t force it. Let it happen when it needs. Like healing it just takes time. Like for me, 18 months and I was someone deeply affected by a trigger when I started this post, but now 2 months later, I’m able to really breathe it in and let the emotion come out of me as it needs to and in that I am so much stronger.
Things get better. Let yourself heal. Take your time. Believe in yourself.
As always if this helps just one person, then my heart is happy in that. And, if you want to share your story or something that you think should be talked about or shared, please reach out. All my love.