chrysalis.
I’ll be taking a walk with the girls; I can feel the crisp white air against my checks. I can finger and squeeze the cold little hands that grip both of mine as we climb the hill behind our house. I can see the sky weave in and out from blue to steel to white back to blue. I watch the eagle soar below the clouds, and then watch another do the same. I can feel slightly in awe that I just saw two bald eagles, but at the same time non-attached. I can sit down with the girls and press my hands against the crunchy moss, feeling the wonder of the frost against the soft of the earth. And I can hear them chattering around me. But it’s all a pleasant blur of loving sound in the background until finally Mia screams at me, MAMA!!! I WANT THE WATER BOTTLE NOW. NOW! My first reaction is to lecture, that is not the polite way to ask for things, Mia. You know that. Then I realize she probably did ask me politely the first couple times. Something tells me her request where part of the chorus of sounds all around me, sounds that just become soundtrack for each moment. I just had no ability to respond to them. My senses are glazed over like glacier from mountain to river; I am frozen in some other plane.
I guess it’s about the right time. I am 35 weeks pregnant now, give or take, and a thick and protective coating has formed around me. I no longer live totally here, present, aware of what happens around me. I live inside this shell. Waiting for the final crack. The unveiling. The birth of my baby, of me, of my whole family. I do all this work, removed and secluded, yet life seems to continue around me.
I am in the chrysalis. And simultaneously I honor this cave-like withdrawal and fight it with all my might. There are still so many things to do; make truffles and peppermint bark, send out packages, shower my circles with love for the holidays; so many projects I want to do with the kids: the solstice wreath, their altar, building a labyrinth in the yard and making sure to gather on the 21st; and then all the little things to get ready for baby: make a mobile, decal the wall with blackbirds flying, washing all the cloth diapers, cleaning, rearranging, smudging this whole place, making meals and freezing them. It’s like this driving force of energy pulls around me, trying to get me to commit in every direction, the words inside my head nag, nest, nest, nest. But the shell, it keeps me from doing much of anything. My heart draws a picture of nesting in a different way: sit down, warm by the fire, hold your belly, breath, chant, cuddle, go for slow walks, make tea…everything else will just fall in place.
I am starting to come to terms with the work I do inside this chrysalis is the real work for this birth, the silent, subtle (yet humungous) work of the inner-world. And that is where I have been living, in that world, doing work I am unable to describe. All I can say is that it’s not heady work. I’m not living in my head, thinking about past or future stories. I am not judging where I have or haven’t been or what I must or mustn’t so. I am not even thinking about the birth, really. I am in some kind of absence of space, but one that is so sweet and satisfying; I find it hard to pull myself up and out of it. It is my own bubble. And even if someone else (or myself) tries to pop it and pull me back into this world, my whole being refuses to oblige. Sure, I will get the water for the girls, throw in a load of laundry, listen to B talk about this or that, read my kids books, but I am only half there. For a second I feel guilty and sad about this, like I am neglecting my life, but I know this is the work of preparing for the journey of this birth. I know its important work; work that rarely gets honored and encouraged or supported in this culture. How many women even get to stop working during this time? How many women get to take time off being a full-time mom while the end of their gestation takes place? I am fortunate in this sense; I don’t work outside the home and right now B is with me, at home, doing all those little things for the girls that I am taking a slight sabbatical from. But in the end (or the beginning of it) this work that I do now, will bring a baby in my arms, and it will bring me once again to the role of Mother.
It’s hard to believe its right around the corner.
It’s hard to believe that the little feet that jab at my ribs and those hands that stretch and poke at my bladder will be in my bed with me, where I will kiss them, smell them and worship the delicate grandness of them. Hands and feet of my newborn tell me I am not mortal, I am indeed Creatrix, I am indeed my own God(dess) and I am blessed to be in the presence of the same.
Oh you beautiful you. I am not kidding; you have to be the hottest pregnant woman around. (Oh, and then there’s Brooke - egads, you TWO!) I love thist post. You bring me back to those moments of deep reflection during that special time. I smelled a lavendar sachet yesterday, one I’ve had for years, and it reminded me, immediately, of being pregnant with Moira. You are good on so many levels to just relax and sit with yourself and your unborn babe right now. If you don’t plan another pregnancy in your lifetime, this will make all the difference to you down the road. Love to you -
Comment by Joanna — December 10, 2007 @ 1:02 am
This is gorgeous writing AND we get a gorgeous picture as a bonus. You are too generous. Where you are at sounds blissful. Linger and enjoy, my friend!
Comment by Ninotchka — December 10, 2007 @ 1:53 am
Oh, how I know this space…this bubble of tranquility and absence, this immediacy of knowing each moment. Each day I give thanks for the gift of going inward, into the chrysalis as you say. This time, with this baby, I know that it will only last a little while longer. While welcoming a real live, flesh and blood baby is a beginning, I also grieve the ending of gestating. Of being more than myself.
Thank you for saying it all so beautifully.
And yes, you are gorgeous. Look at that bountiful belly. Pure yumminess. Btw, how was the pumpkin chocolate chip bread???? That was the night, right?
Comment by Brooke — December 10, 2007 @ 2:58 am
Blackbirds? I love that.
I’m so glad you’re owning this vision of you, and sharing it here. It’s so gorgeous.
Don’t regret your otherworldliness. It’s your soul quieting itself, and this is so good. But you already know that.
Comment by sweetsalty kate — December 10, 2007 @ 4:32 am
Brooke, pumpkin chocolate chip bread rocked…and it was gluten free!
Kate, I think I have to settle for these, not sure if they are exactly the Blackbird ’species’ but they will do (in black and gray or blue, not sure which one yet):http://www.modernnursery.com/itemsDetail.cfm/BLIKReStikFly/0/item_num/BK-RSF/pcid/11/cid/46
Comment by misplacedmama — December 10, 2007 @ 5:15 am
Oh my, you are so beautiful. I wish I could find the time and energy to do more self-portraits. You inspire me so.
Your chrysalis sounds like a lovely place, and just where you need to be right now. In a way, the space you describe reminds me of how it must be in utero. Timeless, quiet (in its own way at least), inward, peaceful, present, still. Just being. Perhaps this is an experience you are sharing with your baby. I am glad you have the opportunity to immerse yourself in it.
I keep thinking I should be reading my birth books, or working on affirmations, or somehow preparing for this birth (at 19 weeks I still have a ways to go, although I know it will pass in a flash). Yet I resist, and a quiet, still voice inside me tells me I don’t need those things. That I already have everything within that I will need to birth this baby. That I have the skills and tools and power — physical, emotional, spiritual. I don’t need to train or learn or practice. I just need to be still … and trust.
Comment by gearhead mama — December 10, 2007 @ 5:21 am
YOu are so right. This is the real work of pregnancy, of preparation, of birth.
May you give yourself to this time with abandon.
And you are gorgeous.
Comment by bella — December 10, 2007 @ 3:28 pm
It’s so true. Sometimes I’m angry with myself that I didn’t figure it out before my fourth. Although really, I did know, or at least my body knew. I just didn’t have the support in going there and somehow didn’t feel allowed to claim it for myself. But it was so important and so good.
Comment by Linda — December 10, 2007 @ 3:45 pm
Oh, you’ve got me enchanted! I remain breathless reading about the full-blown female power of pregnancy. Such mysteries you’re sharing. And that picture does but underwrite the Creatrix you are. Beautiful.
Comment by Sanne — December 10, 2007 @ 6:56 pm
Sorry, but…you are so hot. I want you on my altar. I want your photo as a gooddess image to cherish, nay to worship. God bless you MB.
Comment by Courtney Alban — December 10, 2007 @ 11:45 pm
Glorious, glorious words and image. Ya know that fire we talked about? Yeah, picture…that flame is lit withini you. You are glowing everywhere.
xoxo
Comment by Leigh — December 11, 2007 @ 3:37 am
There was a picture of you I saw when I first found this blog, one of you on the trip up here I think. It might even have just been a sillhouette shot, but I thought instantly “wow, she’s beautiful.” You have to be the most lovely pregnant woman I have ever seen. Maybe it’s because you understand the gloriousness of it all. Thank you for sharing all of this with us and taking me back to that time … beautiful.
Comment by jouette — December 11, 2007 @ 4:41 pm
You are Divine. You are The Divine. You are gestating Divinity. I can’t stop staring at that picture, and the longer I stare, the more my heart overflows.
Comment by Jane — December 13, 2007 @ 9:45 pm
Beautiful soul,
Reading your words I am
reminded of the paradox
of living.
How we can be in the chrysalis
waiting, dreaming…
and yet spreading our wings,
soaring on the
currents and rivulets of the air
at the very same time…
There is such grandeur in your
words, your beautiful picture, and the
spirit which shines from it all.
I cant help but feel
that whilst part of you is waiting
for birth and rebirth.
The other part of you is unfurling her
gossamer wings
to the endless skies ,
Holding God
tenderly
inside her womb.
Where She has always been.
Love and tender blessings to you,
Maithri
Comment by Maithri — December 13, 2007 @ 11:51 pm