I am the mother of three beautiful children ages 13, 11 and 7. Motherhood has undoubtedly changed me, marked me. I have physical proof -actual scars- silvery grey stretch marks on my thighs and hips. The skin around my belly button was stretched beyond recovery- it is wrinkly, more loose then I like and any treats I allow myself seem to gravitate right there. I am still tired (and look it). I have become the lightest sleeper- who is able to hear any and all noises- instantly awaken ready to rescue or soothe whomever or whatever it is that is stirring in the night. My breasts, wow my breasts they changed the most- getting hugely engorged, nipples sucked raw, scratched, bitten and finally dried out and left to retire. I don't like to admit it but they are now so flexible that they pop out of my bra just about every time I lean over. I know these admissions may sound a bit dreary and like many good reasons not to become a mother but please read on… because I want to share with you the deepest most precious mark of all that made me the mother I am today.
author & her first born 2003
When I was blessed to set my eyes upon my firstborn daughter I fell deeply and irrevocably in love. The magnitude of love, which was awakened within me, was something I never imagined possible. It expanded my heart and softened my soul. I became a new woman devoted to her child’s unfolding. Our connection was so strong I often felt that she was taking care of me by guiding me in the most nourishing direction for the both us. I was no longer carefree, unattached and adventurous in the same “I-trust-that-I-am-being-taken-care-of-by-a-higher-power” kind of way. I now made sure to be very particular with my time and energy. To interact with the world in a safe, cautious way because I had a delicate new life to nurture whom depended on me for mostly everything. Swimming in the deep ocean waters chasing dolphins was out of the question. Stopping to chat with strangers, even friendly looking ones- nope. Going anywhere that people were smoking, drinking , acting reckless, ect- out of the question. I didn’t need it, wasn’t attracted to it and steered clear of it. I must persevere in the name of raising my child. My mama bear instincts were fierce and even extended to my husband- anyone who messed with him had better watch out for me!!! This shift was powerful and instinctual coming from a place of devotion to that which came forth from me- my child the beautiful light I had the honor of birthing into the world.
I changed in other ways as well. My body became more useful then I ever imagined as I awakened to the power of my feminine anatomy. I used the memory of the strength my uterus used to lower my baby down and into position to endure all night nursing sessions, incessant crying that only quelled with hours of walking and rocking and to push me get back to work & into the garden. The courage I gained through birthing at home fueled me in so many ways, giving me the confidence to hear and follow my intuition- making me the confident matriarch of my family. I discovered new ways to develop and channel my physical strength through yoga and weight training. Oh and I cannot forget to mention the new found pleasures I experienced as my yoni awakened to its power…, the awareness, calm control and connection to sensation allowed me to rediscover and enhance my bodies potential for experiencing sensual gratification.
After birthing three children at home, nursing each of them for 2+ years, tandem nursing my first and second daughter, getting pregnant many times and experiencing the intense loss miscarriage(s) I’d say motherhood has made its mark on my body, mind and soul. When I look in the mirror I do admit to being a bit shocked to see a curvier older version of how I think of myself. Yet I don’t despair. Instead I smile and acknowledge the vast accomplishments my reflection symbolizes to me. The ability to consciously create life and birth it healthy and thriving into this world, to nourish my children with tender loving care and to grow in love with my children (& husband) through time as they sprout and make motions on their own. The silvery lines are not a sign of my imperfection but a reminder of my journey down the raw, all encompassing, miraculous road of motherhood. The marks of life lived and experienced to its fullest potential.
MY PRECIOUS TRIBE 2015