postpartum in winter
postpartum in winter
body echoing the land.
my womb sleeps
for now
she is like the virgin earth
belonging only to herself
she is barely stirring
the big exhale
this is crone state
this is
the old woman in the mountain.
she knows
this is the time for the heart.
kindled in the breast
milk flows
like a solstice sunrise
pouring hues of love
flowing over the sky
over the land
as I hold my babe, tired eyes stinging
but if I had been asleep
I would have missed it.
Pregnancy is one long menstrual cycle
This was the pregnancy that became embedded in me, the knowing that this particular cycle of the womb is like every other cycle of the womb and the wild earth.
The first trimester is like the bleeding, the inner winter. The woman walks alone through the bleak inner landscape, her apocalypse concealed from the world. She embodies death and the possibility of death even as life grows in the darkness of the womb. She contemplates. The death of her maiden life, the death of her life as a mother to one, to two, to more. She may be pale, retching, cramping, weak. This is the necessary first death of self she will experience as a mother to this baby.
As we move out of the first trimester and into the second we enter inner spring. Her energy rises, she feels able to emerge from her cocoon as her belly begins to sprout, maybe she even feels her baby move like a butterfly. She is called to share her gift to the world with the world. The promise of what is to come, like the blossom of the springtime. Excitement is building within and without. Anticipation. Joy.
Second to early third trimester we have summer. The ovulation of pregnancy. Radiant and in full bloom. Alive, vital and growing at an exponential rate. Strangers may smile at her as she walks past on the street, for she is a magnetic beacon of light and life, she brings to mind everything that is precious and beautiful. Everywhere she sits becomes a throne.
Late third trimester we move into inner autumn, pre-menstruation. The pregnancy begins to feel more like a burden than a blessing. There is the call to go inward, there is resistance to strangers and those who are considered threatening. Anxieties and irritations arise easily, and she can be overcome by the urge to furiously purge and rearrange the living space in anticipation of her new phase of life. She feels taut like a bow string ready to be released. She hangs heavy on the vine awaiting harvest. The pressure is rising. Each day feels long and drawn out. She is ready to descend.
August
What a messy and beautiful month. Devotions coming back in slowly... Grateful for bead practices and the accessibility of mantra and repetition when intensely mothering. A friend asked me what the difference is between working as a healer and being on maternity leave.
I call it maternity leave but really I know it will be years before I find my feet. The main difference for me is when working full time as a healer, your daily life is full of rituals, boundaries and mastery over energy. To be able to hold space for the flow, you must become a fortress. The routines that will protect your body and home from what is coming in and going out.
Magdalene, the tower.
How do I feel now? Like a marshmallow. Boundaries collapsed. Rituals blown to the wind. I am building back devotion step by step in new ways, alongside devotion to my baby. My bones have not even been closed yet and I definitely won't be ready for any work before then.
If you are hoping to work with me please join my waiting list, although I am active on social media I am not working and will not be for the foreseeable.