Our own lives...are a series of little deaths, letting go of the old to make room for something new to be born. Each of these letting-goes entails a transition- a passage - from the way things were to the way things will be.
Joan Borysenko, Ph.D. Fire in the Soul
On the morning of June 3, I sensed my pregnancy coming to an end when amniotic fluid began to leak. Bronte, Chloe, Mom, and I packed our obscene amount of luggage into the car and drove an hour into to town. After a long day of walking up and down hills in the smoldering sun in efforts to get my labor started, we went to see my midwife who gave me the disheartening news that it could still be a few days before I deliver. Tired, hot, and uncomfortable, I began to freak out. My mom suggested we go out to dinner, rent a movie, and relax in our hotel room for the night, I happily agreed thinking that if I wasn't going to have my baby I might as well ease up and enjoy myself. We went to an adorable Italian restaurant and ordered an array of delicious salads, appetizers, and pastas. Just after finishing my salad I stood up to go to the bathroom and the fluid that had been slowly tricking out all day gushed down my leg, making me ever so thankful I had chosen to wear black pants.
Several hours later, delirious from exhaustion and in the last stages of hard labor, I stood in the shower allowing warm water to fall on my low back. I knew that I had two choices: resist the pain and fight against it or breathe and let it flow through me. As I stood in the small tiled square swaying from side to side, I rested my eyelids and breathed the mantra "Let go, Let God." A feeling of calm fell over me and though the pain was monstrous, I felt at peace. Moments after I left the shower my family begged the midwives to check my progress and I was told to start pushing. Minutes shy of an hour later, my exquisite Tallulah emerged, healthy and alert.
She was born on June 4 at 4:56 am after 9 months of emotional turmoil, pain, and nausea to name a few. I experienced 10 hours of labor, 7 of which were the worst pain I have ever faced, with no drugs at a small non-profit clinic in a spotty neighborhood of San Miguel de Allende. I was accompanied by 3 midwives, 2 who spoke little to no English, but were so supportive, endearing, and involved that it transcended any need for language.
In the few weeks since giving birth to Tallulah, my world has been turned upside down. Beside trying to recover from delivery and being awake most of the night, there is the added stress of the extensive Mexican laws preventing me from getting Tallulah's documents in a timely fashion, not having Keikai here to help and not knowing where he is, and an overall feeling of being totally lost. Through all of this my family has been helpful beyond description. Everyone has contributed much time and mind to me and I am tremendously grateful to have such a loving and giving family. Though having a newborn crying inconsolably most of the night can push you to the very edge of your sanity, when that baby ceases and looks up at you bleary-eyed and smiles, all of the feelings of frustration and exhaustion simply melt away.
Motherhood is not what I anticipated, but nothing ever is. Tallulah is more sweet and lovely than I could have ever imagined. Though I get unbearably restless at times, with the support of my family and the presence of my new love, I am reminded to slow down and let go. So many aspects of my life have changed and I am learning through my experience that instead of being attached to the way things used to be, I need to carve my way through new life chapters with an open mind and heart allowing time to heal, adjust, and enjoy the beautiful person I created.
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