SHARES

This is when I dropped in. I sat on the toilet saying I can't do this. Trying to breathe. Saying I don't want to do this. The fear climbing in me.

Finally I moved onto the bed. Aleks and Carson rooting me on, telling me I can do this. I was tired, I wanted to sleep, to take a break. Resume later. But it was now or a transfer.

I wanted to give up. I wanted someone else to take over. I wanted someone else to do it. I wanted to feel like it couldn't be me. It was too much responsibility. It scared me. I was so close to being transferred. I kept saying that I couldn't do it. That I didn't want to do it. That I should just go to the hospital. That I should let them take care of it. Giving away my power yet again. Not believing in myself.

Carson said "it won't be any easier there". U kept repeating that I couldn't do it and then I started pushing.

Waiting for the contractions to come, learning to push through my body instead of out of my body. Instead of from the inside out, from the inside through my body, and into my womb. It was a lot of work. I could feel it stinging. Aleks massaging my perennial and vaginal opening. Lying on my back holding my right leg up with my arm, using it to help transfer the power through and to my womb. Each time a contraction hit, I would pull that leg close to me, hug it in to my chest.

Any time I would attempt to scream, they would remind me to push it down though the body.

The next time, Carson gets so excited and yells "yes, her head. You're doing it, we can see her head".

Aleks tells me to feel it. I felt it. Soft, squishy. The stinging was there, and growing. I said I was scared of it. Don't remember what they said but kept pushing until her head came out and she started crying. I could hear her. Aleks told me I was going to do one more push and pull her out. I felt like "how the hell am I going to do that?!", she grabbed my hands, put them around my baby's head and said "on the next push, pull her out". And I did.

She was here.

Crying, slimy, small, long. Gorgeous. Amazing. perfect.

She was here.

I laid her on my stomach. she was so tiny. so sweet. so beautiful. 

Aleks said there will be another contraction for the placenta. so she needs one more push. and out came that.

She was here.

It felt like all was good. Aleks checked me, no tears. I was good.

Checked the baby, cleaned her off. she was good.

Asked if I wanted to cut the cord. I did. Then she was weighed, checked, measured, before finally reunited to breastfeed.

She latched had a great suck. showed me how to make sure it was a good latch, and so much more info. I felt relieved. happy, ecstatic, tired, at ease. Just in love with this new little thing that came out of me.

Then there was her "name".

A few hours later, contractions were still happening, getting stronger and closer, but still manageable.

Carson texted me saying to let her know when she should come over. I told her to come now.
As the contractions kept coming, she applied pressure to my back, massaged the lower back as they came. it really helped. she also helped me set up my pillows to place between my legs to help open the pelvis. A glass of water w/ a straw was offered to me multiple times. That was also just a small amazing piece.

After at least a few hours, and introducing the ball, Carson wanted to reach out to Aleks (my midwife) to get her to start coming. She thought I was in my second stage - active labor.
I remember thinking "are you sure, cuz I can still think straight".

In any case, she contacted Aleks who showed up at some point.
She checked my blood pressure and temperature, and then asked if I would be ready for a vaginal exam to see how far along I was. I remember asking what kind of exam b/c I didn't put 2+2 together lol

She examined me, and stated that I was already at 9 1/2 cm. She asked me how I was still lucid and having a conversation with her. Carson also stated that I was doing amazing and how strong I was. I really did appreciate that.
It confirmed again to me that I was just meant to have this baby. I felt like I was meant to have this baby, to be a mother. I told Carson the story of my bellybutton:

I always used to think it was a star but now with the pregnancy, it looks more like a person, as if it were the stamp of a human making
machine lol

Aleks mentioned that she was going to set up the tub downstairs, but that she wasn't too sure about how to fill it, as I didn't have an adapter and the faucets were weird. She asked if I would want to do it in the tub. I said the tub was fine. Carson confirmed that it might be better as it's upstairs, close to the toilet and close to the bed, where I've been all morning, and that it was just more comfortable and familiar. They filled up the tub for me, and helped me get in.

Before this though, Carson would brings me to the toilet during contractions to see if it would help. I ended up liking the reverse seating
position with a pillow to lay my head on.

Being in the water felt amazing. It was warm, comforting, peaceful. Carson stayed with me the whole time.

Aleks asked me if I was ready to push and I said No.

While in the tub and waiting for Chris to arrive, the song "good company" from Oliver and Company came to mind. I started singing it in my head. When Carson came back she asked if I wanted to listen to any music and I brought that up. She looked it up and commented on how the girl in the story looks like me. I thought maybe that would be her name, but it turned out her name was Jenni. A little ironic.

She played the song for me and I cried:

"You and me together we'll be
forever you'll see.
We'll always be good company
You and me
wait and see."

The day went by and still no baby. Aleks talked to me trying to get me to understand that it was a very high possibility that Chris wasn't going to make it. This did not sit well with me. I wanted him there. A part of me knew I could do it without him, but I knew he would regret not being there forever.

Going through the contractions was more distracting than painful. I would get annoyed at them getting closer thinking, yeez give me a minute.

Then I stalled. Not wanting to give birth w/o Chris but then the deeper thought of being afraid of the actual birth, the pain, the change, taking control. Knowing that no one but me could do it. Not realizing this kept me from moving into the next stage.

Before we went for a walk, I told Aleks I was ready to push. She asked me if I really was, and if my body was ready. That there was no need to rush. To let it come naturally.

Aleks picked out a dress for me to wear. Climbing down those stairs was an interesting moment, With each step I felt like it brought on a contraction.

Carson took a pic of Shane and me. Then we went for a walk. Came into contact with Simon + Sofia. They were so sweet wishing me luck and Sofia said the baby will come when she's ready. I remember thinking, ok great, please just go away.

We walked a bit further and I said I wanted to go back and try pushing. I got back in the bathtub, but nothing.

Aleks and Carson took a break and sat in the bedroom.

I took some time trying to get there on my own. I felt inside me and would feel the soft squishy part of her head. It scared me. She was real. This was real. There is/was no going back I wanted this but was scared to admit it. Admitting it, meant taking responsibility. And then all the decisions that come with it.

Pushing or trying to push in the tub by myself. Knowing that I just know how to do things by myself. A confirmation of that again.

Aleks pulled me out of the water, said I was coming up on 24hrs and that if I don't start pushing I might have to consider transferring. We tried a birthing stool, the bed on the birthing ball.  Nothing.

To be continued…

It all started Saturday night as I was about to lay down. 

I got ready for bed expecting to fall asleep, wake up the next day and get back to planning the last minute things I needed for the birth. 

Only just over a week until my due date, secretly praying that she’d come a few days early to avoid any unnecessary interventions.

I lay down in bed feeling some discomfort in my stomach area. Due to my increased heartburn, I’d been sleeping on top of two pillows turned the long way to support my back and lift/tilt me upward, and my body pillow to help keep the pressure off of my belly. Still feeling pressure, I decided to turn over and stick my ass in the air - seemed to release the pressure just enough. 

Then it happened.

A huge release. Liquid everywhere. 

On the bed - mattress, sheets, covers. Then as I stood up, more liquid. On the floor. Just leaking. Continuously.

Breathe.

My mind was trying to rationalize what had happened. I could hear it saying it was just a large pee. But I knew better. My mind was scattered. What do I do now? Am I sure my water just broke?!

For some reason, mostly out of disbelief, I kept thinking this hadn’t happened yet. I went to the toilet. Tried to think of a way to catch the leaking. I didn’t realise that after a gushing water break, I’d continue to leak. Thought it was one or the other.

I went to find Chris (my husband). All the while repeating “OK” to myself, over and over. Trying to accept and acknowledge what had just happened.

I find Chris in the barn and say “baby, I think my water just broke, will you come take a look?”. His face lights up as he responds “well, that’s exciting!”. I am shaking a little at this point. Scared. Excited. In disbelief of what is about to come. I don’t know if I am ready. What to do now? What is next? I ask him again “Will you come look?”, he responds with “I’m sure you know. Why don’t you go get packed up and I will fix up the car so you can drive it in”.

I returned back to the bedroom trying to wrap my head around what was happening. Still repeating “OK” to myself. I decided to look for my book from my midwife, Aleks. I was sure it said to call her, but wanted to make sure it was when my water broke vs when the contractions start.

Found my book. Called Aleks. Calmly told her that my water broke, that Chris was fixing the car, and that I was about to leave to drive in to Topanga. She asked about contractions. I wasn’t having any yet. She then told me to let her know when they start and when I get to Topanga.

I kept going back to the bathroom, to the toilet. I was still leaking. I didn’t have any pads with me, they were all in Topanga. So I tried switching underwear, stuffing each pair with tissues. In the end I wound up using a hand towel wrapped with one of those elastic straps to keep it up, like a diaper. That worked.

I got my head straight, decided I needed to strip the bed. I think I may have called my mam at this point. To which she reacted so excited and asked if I told Shane (my brother) yet. Which I had not. When I hung up, I knocked on Shane’s door, told him, he gave me a half asleep acknowledgement and went back to sleep.

I then proceeded to clean up the water on the bedroom floor. Took the sheets off the bed. Knew I had to take them with me as I didn’t have any Cal King sheets in Topanga, thinking it was going to be a queen bed - last minute changes. I stripped the bed, left what I didn’t need on the floor. 

Decided next that we would need food. So packed up the cooler with anything from the fridge that seemed to make sense. Had to wake Shane up and ask him to bring the cooler in; it was still on the front steps from the previous trip.

Chris, still working on the car, tells me Shane should drive me in to make sure I get to whom I need to on time and he’d be right behind in the Tundra. It would only take him a bit to fix it, and it would be much more comfortable to drive all three of us back in.

I packed up the cooler, then also the small cooler with fruit and veggies. Made sure I had all the sheets for a Cal King, my pillows, body pillow, his pillows. And just double checking that I had everything I needed. Woke Shane up to get him to move everything onto the porch. Walked over to Chris to find him getting mad at himself for trying to fix something that didn’t need fixing. So, he put it back together, and made sure what did need fixing got fixed. I wanted him to drive in with me, but he insisted he would be right behind me. 

As I was standing waiting for him to finish the car, I started to feel the contractions starting. He seemed to be of the opinion that we had loads of time. I on the other hand, was more of the opinion that I needed to just leave. NOW.

He finally pulled the car around to the front of the house. The big cooler wouldn’t fit, so I took the important stuff out and put them in the small one. Stuffed some stuff in the front with me. Told Shane to leave his things as Chris would be right behind us. Managed to get what I thought was important. Don’t remember if I kissed Chris goodbye or not. Shane and I drove off.

The contractions started getting stronger. I had already texted Carson, my Doula, to let her know. She said to tell her when we arrived and to get as much sleep as I could. 

We got in. It took the usual 3hrs, maybe 3 cause we had to get gas. Shane unpacked the car and we went to sleep.

To be continued…

Some people say that the truth hurts.

There are many ways I could interpret this. For now, I will go with this thought.

I personally believe that the truth just is. It isn’t good or bad. It’s not right or wrong.

It just is.

If I choose to react. That’s my choice. I am choosing to attach to it. To make it something more than it actually is.

And then it’s also up to me to become aware of this. Do I need to react? Why am I reacting? Am I reacting negatively or positively?

What path is this taking me down?

Right now in this moment. I can choose to continue reacting. OR. I can choose to reflect on it. To dive deeper. To see what is really being asked of me. What is my inner self trying to bring forth? What am I wanting to learn here?

The truth plays such a huge role in my healing journey. It’s a mirror. A teacher. A friend.

It wants to help me see things clearly. To understand. To acknowledge. To accept.

It takes me down different paths. It shows me my shadow. My patterns. The things I repeat unconsciously. The things I long to change and cannot yet see.

Until I shine a light on those dark places. Until I acknowledge them. Until I accept them. I cannot change them.

The truth is powerful. When I am ready I will see it.

When I are ready I will understand. And I will begin to shift. To become who I am meant to be. To release and let go of everything that keeps me small, that does not serve me.

The truth leads to the truth about myself.

Sending you so much love.

This week I changed.

This week, I felt something I haven’t felt in a long time.

I recognize the feeling. I never really took the time to acknowledge it before.

I always classified it as “something new is coming”.

I realized this week, for the first time ever, that that feeling is me coming home to myself.

It’s the feeling of choosing myself. Choosing to believe in me. To trust me. To follow me.

This work - the journey of self healing. From embodiment with Alexandra Roxo and Radical Awakenings, conscious parenting with Wellynest to creating my own practice with Life’s Tiny Adventures - it all plays such an amazing role. It changes so much.

At first I asked myself:

“how do I know?”

“Am I doing it right?”

“Will I ever figure this out?”

And then it happened.

Slowly. Something shifted.

One small change.

Then another.

Having a kid has definitely changed things up. I can’t always put 40min aside to go deep - uninterrupted - I try to bring the practice into my every day.

Taking that deep belly breath in moments where in the past I may have lost it.

Reflecting the situation back on me instead of focusing on the external “how am I contributing to this” instead of “they/you did this to me”.

So many changes.

And this week was a huge one.

I am taking this moment to celebrate.

This is exciting.

The realization. The excitement. That feeling. I love that feeling. It’s the sweet feeling of freedom. I chose me. I trusted me. I didn’t abandon myself. Sigh. No cluster of built up regret. Anger. Frustration.

Just excitement. Relief.

I believe.

I now know that feeling. I have named it, it’s not just something that “happens” to me. It’s when I chose me. It’s definite. It’s mine. And I love it.

Trust yourself. Believe in yourself. Love yourself. Take the time to forgive yourself when you don’t and allow yourself time to get there. You’ll have plenty chances to make that shift.

Sending you so much love.

That’s what I hear when I ask the question “what should I do?”.

It’s fucking hard though. Because I often feel that what I want to do, what I want to believe in, what trusting myself means, doesn’t make sense to anyone else.

So I start doubting myself.

I start wondering if what I want is really what I want. 

I start asking myself what is wrong with me that no one understands where I am coming from? Why does no one agree with me?

And so I am left with 2 options: either I follow what everyone else is saying and I abandon myself yet am surrounded by support or I do what I feel is what I need to do and lose the support.

For years I have done the first. And it is a very lonely path. While surrounded by external support, I am left feeling wrong, empty, unexcited about life. I fall into deep depression. “That’s just the way it is”. “That’s life”.

I continue to abandon myself because if I chose myself, even if what I am choosing ends up being the wrong one, I am left alone. Or I get a “told you so”. 

Maybe it’s not about right or wrong? 

Maybe it’s about experience. 

Maybe it’s about feeling. 

Maybe it’s about learning to trust yourself, and knowing that even if no one believes you, even if no one agrees with you, and even if it ends up being the wrong path - in the end it was your choice. In which case I say how could it ever be the wrong path?

To me abandoning myself sounds like the wrong choice, and even then I ask is it though?

By abandoning myself, I am forcing myself to take a look at the pain I am causing myself. I am asking myself the question is this really how you want to feel?

And by asking that question, feeling the pain, abandoning myself - I find my way back to myself.

I am not here to be agreed with. I am not here to make life more comfortable for others. I am here to experience myself. To learn about myself. To trust myself. To know that I know. And to just trust that.

So again, is there ever really a wrong choice?

I guess like everything, it’s relative.

I always thought I needed to change to fit in. That I was misunderstood because there was something wrong with me.

What if I’m just different? What if how I see, how I feel, how I process is just different. 

What if I just don’t fit into one of those boxes? 

What if I need to create my own box? And find those who fit into my box?

Why am I trying so hard to change? It’s destroying me.

I don’t fit in. 

And I no longer want to.

I just want to be me. 

Be loved for me. 

Be accepted for me. 

Be understood as me.

Where do I go from here? 

How do I do this alone?

I feel like I’ll be fine.

I’m just at a crossroads.

I need to keep believing.

I need to just trust that I know what I am doing.

Whether others think it’s right or wrong.

Sending you so much love.

To express. 

To be seen. 

To be heard.

I’ve started noticing the resistance. 

The fear that creeps in. 

And then I start writing for you. 

What will you think? 

How will you react? 

Does this make sense? 

Will you understand? 

What if you don’t get what I’m trying to say?

So many thoughts. 

Filling my head. 

Moving away from authenticity. 

Editing. 

Controlling.

The illusion that I can create something from deep within me, edit it, morph it. 

Make it so that anyone and everyone can understand. 

Moving away from what I wanted to share.

What’s the point then? 

Originally - I want to create comfort around just being. 

Now - editing to control the response.

Why?  

Protection.

Protecting myself from judgment. 

Falling for the belief that when others judge me, it’s about me. 

Coming back to the realization and remembrance that it’s actually not about me.

Such fear in judgment. Linked to my deep seeded wound around abandonment. Feeling the need to please others so they won’t leave me.

Trying to move into the space where I surround myself with those who are around me because of who I am not who I am pretending to be.

So much pain around this. Constantly being challenged. Opportunities popping up. 

Chances to live fully as me. To stop hiding.

Authentically me. 

Just me. 

No pretending. 

My thoughts. 

My experiences. 

My mistakes. 

My opinions.

Letting it all just be. 

No judgment. 

No fear. 

No worries.

Just acceptance. 

Acknowledging. 

Taking responsibility.

Understanding. 

Learning. 

Trusting. 

Leaving control behind.

Embracing how hard it can be. 

How long it can take.

Breathing. 

Not making sense.

Not making sense. 

Being judged.

Accepting that it’s inevitable. 

People will be people. 

I cannot control them. 

I cannot edit myself to fit everyone.

So why edit at all? 

It’s scary. 

I’m not used to it.

I used to pride myself in my ability to fit it. 

Now I know it’s not a skill. 

It’s a coping mechanism.

I am flawed. 

And that’s perfect. 

I am human. 

It’s part of the journey.

The experience that comes with not knowing. 

It’s always so powerful. 

Every time.

When I try to control. 

It’s boring.

I lose myself. 

My joy. 

My fire. 

My excitement.

Around. And around I go. 

Until I finally chose something different.

Taking responsibility. 

For myself. 

For my actions. 

For my choices.

Knowing that it’s always me. 

No one can take anything from me unless I let them. 

It’s all me.

Growth. 

Chaos. 

Confusion. 

Unity.

Everything and nothing. 

Balance. 

Trust. 

Love.

Moving towards the new. 

Embracing the pain. 

Embracing everything.

No longer walking back. 

No longer talking myself out of stuff.

Sharing to share. 

To be witnessed. 

To be seen. 

To reach anyone who understands. 

Anyone who feels the same way.

Letting myself know that it’s ok. 

I am safe. 

I am creating the space I have always longed for.

I am just me. 

I am here. 

Being. 

Period.

Sending so much love.

Teething. Fever. Restless. Irritability. Draining.

Energy leaving my body. Just a little bit more every minute.

Sleep seeping in. Eyes closing.

Dosing off. Almost there.

Scream. Cry. Restlessness.

I’m awake. I got you. You’re safe.

Repeat.

Now even less energy. Even more tired.

Irritability. Restlessness. Screams.

Doesn’t want to be in my arms, but doesn’t want to be on the floor.

Doesn’t like lying on her back, her stomach, her side, on me, beside me. Other options? Maybe upside down? Nope.

Sleep seeping in. Eyes so heavy.

Breathing slowing down. Heart racing from exhaustion.

Starting to dose. Finally. Quiet. About to fade.

Movement.

I freeze. Don’t move and she will just go back to sleep.

Sigh. She is still asleep.

Back to closing eyes. Dosing off. Breath slowing down.

Crying. Scream. Movement.

Repeat.

Maybe one day I will get some sleep.

And the I’ll look back on this moment with joy and wish I could experience it again.

To my little girl: “Love you with everything I have little girl! Every day, all day! In any shape or form!

Always. Forever.”

Sending you so much love.

Part 1.2 - Trust. Again.

What if I’m wrong?

That right there is what keeps me from fully embracing my truth. From fully trusting myself. What if I’m wrong?

When did being wrong become such a bad thing? When did we decide that being right was the better path? Where the fuck does that take us? If I’m always right then there’s nothing for me to learn, and what’s the point then? How can I grow if there’s nothing to notice, nothing to change, nothing to embrace?

Where does that leave me? I know I’m not perfect. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. And why would I want to be anyway?

It’s way more fun going deep into the darkness and coming out the other side with bigger brighter eyes. Open. Relieved. Grateful. Excited.

So again. Why is it such a big deal to be wrong?

Isn’t being wrong what helps in being right anyway? Like a steppingstone you needed to get across that stream. Then again if it’s a warm day out, maybe you were better off getting your feet wet - refreshed.

Where am I going with this? I have no clue.

I’m just pondering.

Asking myself that question. Over. And over. To see what comes up. Where it takes me. What I unravel. What I encounter.

It’s a question that sits in the back of my mind. Keeping me from fully trusting myself.

It’s hard, when that’s part of your autopilot because you’ve been doing it for so long.

It takes time. Becoming aware. Acknowledging. Noticing. Witnessing. Observing. Understanding. Acknowledging again. Breathing. And finally catching.

Catching yourself. Right in the middle.

AHA! I see what you did there. I see the feelings rising, the thoughts rushing, the reaction happening.

It’s quite fascinating. The process.

I’m going through it.

Then add a baby.

Holy!

How the hell am I supposed to do this?

Then that voice in the back of my mind: it’s part of your practice.

Sending you so much love.

Deep reflection.

Darkest shadows.

Unforgiving realizations.

I’ve been in a space, diving deep, or at least as deep as I can with a 1year old around.

And yet, I’ve still managed to dig up stuff.

Learning how to embrace this process with a child. Constantly being disrupted. Having my attention pulled in various different directions.

It’s hard. It’s taken me this long.

I’ve been angry. Frustrated. Sad. So many times feeling “what is the fucking point”.

And yet. I get past it. I try again. And again. And every now and again I succeed.

I find it. That connection. To myself. To me.

There she is…

Hello love. Welcome back!

I’ve missed you.

Sending you so much love.

On this date. 12:06am. A year ago - I crossed the threshold.

From Maiden to Mother.

A step into the most unknown of all unknown places.

Complete and utter surrender.

The acceptance and understanding of a whole new world. A whole new way of life.

A new me. A new path. A new breath.

Today my beautiful daughter turns 1.

And I as a mother turn 1.

Together we embark on this adventure.

Every moment precious.

Unpredictable.

And always full of love.

Sometimes a longing for a moment to myself.

Forever grateful for every moment with her.

Happy birth day to all mothers on their day. Never forget - a new you was born alongside your baby. You are both precious. You are both loved. You are both amazing.

Most grateful for my midwide Aleksandra Evanguelidi, my doula Carson Meyer, and my brother - love you forever.

Photo by my amazing doula Carson Meyer.

Sending you so much love.

Last Photo of my pregnancy - at 36 weeks.

Same Dress. Same Dog.

New Baby. New Me.

At 38 weeks. On this date - 6/13. Around 10pm PST. A year ago - my water broke.

12 days early. 90% prepared. 80% ready.

Location - In the desert. Goal - Topanga.

Writing Part 1 of my birth story. Will share soon!

Sending you so much love.

The questions.

The answers.

The doubts.

The certainties.

Always moving.

Never still.

A moment of quiet.

A deep breath.

Sometimes that’s all it takes.

And other times it seems impossible.

To let out the pain.

The discomfort.

To remain the same is just too much.

But to change can seem too scary.

Where does this road lead?

Where is it taking me.

A part of me - the old me. Doesn’t want to find out.

It’s safe here.

I know what to expect.

I know what’s coming.

I can control this.

But where is the fun in that?

Where is the spontaneity.

How could I possibly live with myself, if I knew I just stood by.

As the world kept moving.

As my daughter kept growing.

To be a part of this world.

To experience it the way it was meant to be experienced.

I need to embrace the change.

I really want to.

It’s taking a minute.

But I am on my way.

There is no turning back.

I’ve been on this path for a long time.

The realizations setting in.

The knowledge.

The courage.

The decision.

Just keep going.

The light is always at the end of the tunnel.

Just because we can’t see it now.

Doesn’t mean it’s not there.

It’s always there.

Every time.

Not once have I gone down a similar path and not found that light.

Trust.

Such a hard thing to do.

What a concept.

Trust.

So deep. Yet so underrated.

Does anyone even talk about it anymore?

Where am I going with this now?

Questions.

Again.

Doubt.

Again.

Circles.

Time.

Trust.

So many different things.

Time to experience.

Time for self love.

For self forgiveness.

I am on my way.

I am exactly where I am meant to be.

And I always will be.

Doing exactly what I am meant to.

Because I trust myself.

I no longer need outside permission.

This is huge.

A step forward.

Towards freedom.

How will I get there?

Who knows.

But I will.

Sending you so much love.

The return.

To self.

To love.

To compassion.

To be witnessed.

To be seen.

To be heard.

To be acknowledged.

To open.

To love. To be loved.

To be understood.

To understand.

To be.

To learn.

To know.

Sitting in darkness.

Glimpsing the light.

Holding space.

Feeling held.

Cracks opening.

Change emerging.

A new you.

The same you.

Meeting. Talking. Embracing. Merging.

Wounds showing.

Tears flowing.

Soft laughter.

Loud screams.

“FUCK YOU”s.

Deep growls.

Sweet embrace.

A journey.

A ride.

An unexpected yet necessary path.

Pain. Joy. Anger. Fear. Love. Compassion. Realization. Forgiveness.

Dance. Release. More movement.

Touch. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Mentally.

So much love, so much gratitude.

I love you.

I see you.

Always.

Sending you so much love.

So much I want to write about. But nothing comes out.

I keep typing and typing but it’s just bla.

I’m not feeling it. I’m not seeing it.

It’s just bla.

Maybe that’s ok. Maybe that’s just where I’m at right now.

Stuck. Bored. Overwhelmed.

Everything all at once.

Can’t seem to focus. There’s too much to do.

Yet what is there really to do.

So much and nothing at all.

Why is this so overwhelming. Why do I feel so confused. Exhausted. From nothing.

Is it really nothing. Is that really it.

Or am I taking care of another human being. Constantly. Looking for small breaks so I can take a nap. So I can have some food. A shower. By myself. With myself.

Not knowing how to function alone anymore.

Not understanding how to let go. Yet also yearning for quiet admits the noise.

Not wanting to let go but also just wanting to observe. Be in the background. Left alone. For a minute. For a second.

So much energy and yet nothing gets done.

It just sits there. Sitting. Waiting.

The beauty. The pain. The illusion. The reality. Both are the same. Also the opposite.

Feeling myself drift away and yet here I still am.

Being. Moving. Seeing. Feeling. Crying. Laughing. Grateful. Fearful. Fearless. Alone. Surrounded. Peaceful. Chaotic.

Around and around it goes.

When does it stop. Do I want it to.

Questions I don’t want the answers to. In this moment. Maybe forever.

Where to go from here.

An open heart. Trust. Love. Patience. Acceptance. Surrender. Allowing. Unfolding. Crumbling. Letting go. Releasing. Breathing. Deep. Deep breathing.

So deep.

Back to center. Back to myself.

The journey down a dark path. Let it consume you. Let it take away all your pain and worries. Where there is no light, there can be no darkness. What a scary thought.

It’s how it grabs you. How it slowly drags you down.

Not today my friend.

Today I breath. Today I feel. Today I remember that there is always darkness and there is always light. It’s my choice. Where do I want to reside. Where do I want to thrive.

Neither is right or wrong. It just is.

It’s simply a choice.

And today I choose light.

To all you mamas out there: I see you. I love you. You are amazing.

Sending you so much love.

Trust seems like such an easy thing to do. And yet, I am left feeling uncertain. Unsure. Confused about what it really is. What if it’s not a simple task?

Diving deep into trust - a journey I never thought I needed to take.

Left with so many thoughts. So many questions. Realizations.

What is trust, really? Are we born with it or is it something we learn - or maybe a bit of both?

How do you know if you really do trust someone? And I don’t mean if they are trustworthy, but if YOU are actually capable of trusting another person.

This has been a question sitting in the back of my mind for a while.

Can I trust? Am I capable of it? What does it feel like? How do I know if I’m doing it?

What about the difference between trusting someone and trusting yourself - where does that come in to play?

I’ve never really taken the time to contemplate whether or not I actually trust myself... isn’t that really where it all begins - with trusting yourself? 

Have you thought about that? Asked yourself if you trust yourself?

Where to go from here? Relearn. Remember. Slow down. Dive deeper.

The beginning of a new self?

To reconnect. What a peaceful thought.

Such an amazing journey. A path of discovery. Rediscovery. Perhaps even the shattering of an/many illusion/s.

A friendship. Partnership. With the self. Yourself. The love. The understanding. The commitment. The trust.

I can feel it slowly building. That connection. The link. The inevitable.

It’s clear. It’s unconditional. It’s waiting.

It’s waiting. It’s been there this whole time. Did I abandon myself? Did I at some point in my life choose to shut out my own trust. My connection to myself?

Why? For love.

But not real love. The kind I thought I deserved. The kind that is conditional.

Why? I was unaware. Scared. Lonely. Unsure.

There it is. So simple. Yet one of the hardest things to admit => it was me.

It’s always me. Never anyone else.

I chose this as a child. To feel love. To feel safe.

Now I am aware. Now I want to change. And so the path begins.

Easy? Probably not.

Will it seem impossible? Most likely.

Will it be impossible? No.

Self love. Self trust. Here I come. Let’s do this. I know you’ve been waiting for me. Thank you! I am on my way.

To all the mamas out there! Trust yourself. Trust in yourself. Your baby chose you. You know what you are doing and you are doing amazing! You are amazing! I see you! I love you! You’ve got this!

Sending you so much love.

A short post

A huge burden off my shoulders

The greatest kid

The biggest love

A little of everything

A lot of nothing

Sometimes 

Never

It’s funny

It’s sad

It’s rainy

It’s full of sunshine

Time - time

Let’s not go there today

A lot of love

A ton of support

Forever and Always

A short post.

Sometimes I forget how breath brings me back. How it calms my mind, slows my racing heart - A practice I started about 2 years ago.

Now, add a baby.

The noise. The attention. The hunger. The longing.

It’s constant.

I have lost myself in it numerous times. Again and again. Sitting in the darkness not realizing where I am.

Trying to take care of myself while taking care of another.

It’s hard!

But I am getting there. Slowly. One day at a time.

Remembering to take a moment. Anytime I notice I have one.

Taking a breath. Closing my eyes. Feeling the calmness return. The vast universe surrounding me. The light of the stars shining through me. A rush over my entire body.

The adjustment of my spine. The dropping of the jaw. The release of any tension. The warmth. The peace. The quiet. The truth.

Breathe.

Letting everything flow through me. Letting everything remain still. Just for that one moment.

Observing the feelings that come up. Acknowledging them. No attachment. No judgment. Just letting them be.

Breathe.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth.

A wave of serenity.

Then! 

A noise. A cry. A need for my attention.

-> Pulled right back into the here and now.

The craziness of having a baby.

Loving it. Being so grateful for it. Appreciating it.

A simple breath - if it’s 2min or 40min - it’s just so powerful. It realigns. It shifts. It guides.

To all you mamas out there: take a second to breathe! Even just that one second! I see you. I love you. You are amazing.

Sending you so much love.

Sometimes I forget that it takes as long as it takes.

To realize what was meant by the experience.

A moment in life when everything feels so overwhelming, so inconsolable. No possible outcome in sight.

The feeling of hopelessness. Tightness. Restriction. Restraint.

How could anything possibly get better? How could anything ever be ok again?

The truth - It won’t ever be the same. Isn’t that the the point?

But when you’re stuck in that space, unable to see the lesson before you. Letting your wounds take over.

=> Autopilot! = You stay stuck.

But when you embrace it. And give in. Not in the sense of letting it take over, but by acknowledging. Surrendering. Accepting that there’s nothing you can do in that given moment. Observing. Letting what is be. Understanding that it just is. That it is the reality of that moment.

The hardest part of this journey!

And then! The next moment. 

That’s when you can choose. Choose to continue to stay stuck or choose to see.

See that you are in control. That there’s so much more coming. That every moment is a lesson. That every time you choose to see, you learn. That some lessons pass through you. And some get harder.

Breakthrough + Realization.

It’s never ending. And it feels so dark, so heavy, so hopeless at times.

But when you experience a breakthrough. Oh man! You look back. You see. Everything you went through was not only worth it, but fuck! How incredibly strong you must be to have made it to the other side!

We tend to forget that part. We made it. Time and time again. We made it. And we’re fucking strong because of it.

Here’s to every breakthrough. To the ones that help us become who we want to be. The ones that show us the truth behind the struggles. Life’s little lessons guiding us. 

Lighting the path so we can be our best selves.

Mamas, I see you. I love you. I am with you. You are strong!

Embrace those moments. Let the breakthroughs come. Give them the time they need.

Sending you so much love.

Pain - I used to think you were my greatest enemy. 

Always trying to avoid you. 

Always running away. 

Afraid of what you would do to me.

Afraid of where you would take me.

I thought you and the darkness were working together. Trying to entrap me. Trying to manipulate me into falling for you. Trying to lead me down the path of darkness. That you would grab me and keep me forever. In a state of torment. A state of fear. Guilt. Shame. Sadness. Confusion. A place of constant pain.

Now I see you clearly.

Pain. You are my greatest friend. 

You want to hold my hand as I walk through you.

You want me to feel you so I can let you go.

You want to help me grow. Become a better person. To be a better mother. So I can understand you. So I can help my daughter understand you.

You know it’s not easy. You know it’s fucking hard. But you try an remind me that dealing with pain is less painful than ignoring it.

The number of times I turned away. I denied it’s existence. The pain would grow. Trying to get my attention. Trying to help me work through it. Instead I let it linger. Fester. Become so painful that it was unbearable. Until one day I stopped.

I stopped.

I decided to embrace it. To feel it. To acknowledge it.

And slowly. Very slowly. The pain started to lessen.

Is it gone? No.

Is it worse? No.

Is it the last time I will feel it? No.

So I might as well feel it when it comes. Feel the pain. Love the pain. Know that it is your friend. Welcome it. Embrace it. Learn from it.

Pain. You are my greatest gift. 

You are filled with love.

You are inevitable.

I see it now.

Thank you for being there.

Thank you for holding me.

For wanting me to express you, not hold you in.

Thank you for walking beside my all these years.

For wanting what is best for me.

I see you. I appreciate you. I love you.

Sending you so much love.

The joy. The work. The thoughts. The expectations. The distress. The loneliness. The excitement. The unknown. The love. 

OMG the love. 

The discomfort. The fear. The truth. The feelings. 

OMG the feelings. 

The disarray. The confusion. The control. The letting go. The learning. The reminders. The lack of sleep. 

OMG the lack of sleep.

So much all at once. No time to process. No time to understand. It just is. And it keeps going. 

Stuck in a place of questioning. Fear of failure. OMG, it’s so strong. It’s ridiculous and yet so totally understandable.

The things I manage to get done, and the very many things I don’t. The lessons in forgiveness, acceptance, love, and letting go are just turned on. There. Everywhere I look. Just there. Every decision I make, every thought I have, every reaction, just everything. It’s there. Testing me. Asking me to become the observer. Observing myself. Noticing the things I’ve been trying to ignore. The things I’ve wanted to keep hidden, especially the things I convinced myself never existed.

Oh what a ride. And it’s just the beginning! Would I wish to go back - abso-fucking-lutely not!

To all the mamas out there: I’ve got you. I’m right there with you. You are amazing! You are the best! Your baby chose you! You are loved!

Sending you so much love.

So much going on.

So many things changing.

So much up in the air.

My mind playing tricks.

My heart breaking.

Not understanding why. Asking why. Crying. Breathing. Denying. Questioning. Repeat.

So much happening. Why now? Am I really equipped to handle this? Am I making the right decisions? 

So many lessons. Where do I start? Which one do I pick?

What if I chose the wrong one? Is there a wrong one?

Deep breath. Looking for distractions. Feeling exhausted. Being pulled in so many different directions.

June. Work. Self care. 

Saying it out loud, it doesn’t sound like a lot. Yet, I am overwhelmed. Feeling alone. Having to make decisions I don’t feel ready to make.

Escape - wouldn’t that be nice.

A fresh start. A clean slate. 

And then a sweet reminder: You are exactly where you are meant to be.

Surrender. 

That word again. Surrender.

I am still learning how to. I am still remembering that it is the answer. 

Sometimes it is hard. Sometimes it feels like “how the fuck do I surrender to this”. And yet, when I manage to find a moment, it works. I feel my chest open. My breath pass through. A sense of calm take over. The panic subsides. 

A moment of peace.

Sending so much love to all those who are pregnant, all those on their postpartum journey and anyone who needs to hear this: You are amazing. You are loved. You are exactly where you are meant to be. I love you.

Sending you so much love.

It’s crazy to think how darkness can inspire. How it can uplift, uphold,push, create.

We get so caught up in having to be in the light, having to be good, polite, nice, respectful, considerate.

But what about authentic?

Isn’t that what we really yearn for? Isn’t that what we all really want?

Authenticity.

The ok to be who we are, who we want to be.

To be free to release the pent up emotions, the anger, the frustration that we all feel all the time. Why hide it? Why pretend it isn’t there? Why bother closing the doors on what really matters just to get someone’s attention.

I am guilty. 100%. I’ve done it.

I’ve hidden away parts of myself so I could be loved. In fear that if I was authentically me no one would love me.

I’d be too much, too emotional, too loud,too crazy, too weird, not normal.

When was “normal” defined?

Why can’t we redefine it to mean “whoever you are”. Why are we all trying to be the same when we are so different.

When did the same ever spark anything?

If anything, more of the same is just boring,stagnant, annoying, predictable.

I guess that’s it -> predictable.

Predictable = Safe. We just want to feel safe.

But safe isn’t living. Safe isn’t authentic. It’s a miss belief, a manipulation in letting us think we have control over our lives.

If you think about it, where’s the fun in that? Where’s the mystery, the thrill, the spark, the inspiration, the adventure.

Why settle for the mundane when you can have the extraordinary?

I started this post with “the darkest of all days still holds some light”.

Is it scary to not know? FUCK YES.

Is it worth it to try anyway? FUCK YES.

Do I always follow that/my own advice, guidance? FUCK NO! 

We’re all human. The good. The bad. The beautiful. The ugly.

We each have a bit of it all, that’s what makes us so damn fucking amazing. Embrace it. Love it. Hate it. Ignore it. Do it ALL. Don’t pick just one, pick them all. 

Why did we ever believe we couldn’t have it all? Why did we let that sink in? If we can believe that, then why not the opposite? It’s just a belief. It’s just a thought. Change it. Today. Now.

Sending you so much love.

I wrote this a few weeks ago, and didn’t get around to sharing til now.

I am tired of people pleasing.

I am tired of feeling alone.

I am tired of feeling worthless.

I am tired of being lied to.

I am tired of lying.

I am tired of being tired.

I am tired of trying to be the old me.

I am tired of resisting the new me.

I am tired of not wanting to let go.

I am tired of being afraid.

I am tired of not trusting.

I am tired of everything.

The battle between the old me - the one without a baby - and the new me is exhausting. It feels never ending.

The ups, the downs, the disappointment, the frustration.

It all comes and goes. In waves. Just as as I think I have it all figured out, it changes. Just as I think I’m going to be ok, it hits me.

I feel like the work I was doing before the birth has become null and void.

I feel like everything I set out to accomplish has vanished - had become a distant though.

Patience.

The one thing I need, the one thing I can’t seem to grasp.

The good days, I know. Everything is exactly as it should be. I will get done what needs to be done when I get it done. No stress, no pressure.

The bad days, I’m lost. Confused. Feeling alone. Abandoned. All my wounds just surfacing all at once. Feeling the need to get everything done. Feeling like a failure when I can’t.

Trying to process. Trying to remember my practice. I haven’t resumed it since the birth.

I know that is why. Yet, I don’t jump back in.

Am I afraid of what I will find? Or what is no longer there? Of the shift that has been occurring? Of the changes that come with the continuation of it?

Fear. Fear. Fear.

Always getting in the way. Never letting me do what I want, what I feel.

Then again - it’s my choice, isn’t it?! I am choosing to let it take over. I am letting it consume me.

Why?

Why would I let it? Is it because it’s easier, because it’s less stressful, too much work, too much energy to stop it?

Am I giving in? Does this make me a weak person? A victim?

Where do I go from here. It wants me to stay. It’s so seductive. It seems like the easy choice, but really it takes so much energy from me.

I am tired.

My tiredness loves fear. They are best friends. They laugh together. Tell me stories. So believable. But are they really?

What is that word?

Release.

Release.

Breath and release.

That is my key word. That is what I need to remind myself of and what I have been neglecting these past 2 months.

I have been choosing to stay in misery. To let the stories convince me that they are true. Choosing to ignore myself, to ignore my inner most truth.

It’s time. Time to move on. Time to choose differently.

Is it bad that it took me this long? No!

It took as long as it needed. And I’m sure it will be back. And will keep coming back.

But here, now, today. I am choosing to release.

To all the mamas out there - ride that wave! It’s ok to feel whatever you’re feeling. It’s ok to give in. Just remember that when you’re ready, you’ll come back.

Sending you so much love.

Deep breaths. Eyes closing. Feeling the mind quiet as the body starts to take over.

Noticing the chatter. Still there but fading. The gentle wave of stillness come over you.

A small thought passes by. A larger one grabs your attention, wakes you up and boom - you’re back in your head.

The chatter is loud, the things you still have to do being repeated. The feeling of stress that comes with everything. Hurry, hurry! Quick before it’s too late.

Then your awareness.

Do I choose to continue down this path of chaos? Of irritation, self doubt, panic, unease.

Or do I choose my breath? My stillness, confidence, trust, fluidity.

No matter which path I choose, it’s always my choice. It always has been. It always will be. Accepting this is the hardest part. It takes a lot of work, a massive amount of courage. So much Time.

But isn’t time just relative?!

Acceptance is the key. Once you truly learn to accept, you’re free. Free of obligation, free of stress, free of expectation, free of judgement, free of disappointment.

All that’s left is love.

Sending you so much love.

I woke up yesterday feeling very heavy. This pain in my chest.

At first I ignored it and tried to just go about my day.

Then that one tiny thing went wrong and I fell. Deep into the darkness. The thoughts. The blame. The hopelessness.

It’s been a while since I let it take over.

I stayed there. Cried. Let it control me. “Forgot” about my practice. Felt sorry for myself. Creating narratives in my head. Took on the role of the victim. Wanted validation from those around me; acceptance of my behavior.

Like a child. Wanting to be validated. To be seen. To be acknowledged. To be told that it’s ok to feel pain.

Then a deep breath. Retreat. Crying. Journalling. Finding my practice. Writing. Words flowing. Things I didn’t mean. Things I wasn’t feeling. But things that were masking the truth.

Then, finally, a breakthrough. Holding my pup I said “Olive, I’m scared”. I let it out. I let it go.

The control. The fear of vulnerability. A release. A sigh. Relief. Breath.

The heaviness in my chest - on my heart - lifted. The acknowledgement of the pain I was feeling. The fear. The truth.

I am scared. Rationally, I’ve walked through it. I know what is to come. I know that I can handle it. I know that everything will be fine. But I haven’t yet taken the time to FEEL it. To embrace it. To sink into my body and hold that space for myself. So I am scared.

And here I am acknowledging it. I am witnessing it. Accepting it. And it’s ok. I am allowed to be scared. I don’t always have to have everything planned. Everything prepared. I can let go. Being scared doesn’t mean I am weak. Doesn’t mean I will fail. It just means I am being honest with myself. I am feeling the feelings inside me instead of rationalizing them away. I see now, how often I have done that. How often my feelings get put aside through logic and thinking. And then they overflow and I loose control.

Here’s to me! Feeling! Here’s to all of you! Feeling! It’s scary. It’s hard. It’s terrifying. It’s a huge release. A huge sigh. Comfort. Freedom from yourself.

May you always find your breath in those moments. The courage. The strength. The truth. The release.

Love.

Sending you so much love.

Why would anyone want to take responsibility for their actions? It’s hard, it’s painful. If it’s easier to blame someone else for all the shit in your life, why wouldn’t you?

The darkness, the loneliness, the pain, the frustration, the illusion of control, the difficulties, the struggle, the pain, the pain, the pain - the hidden pain.

When you spend so much time avoiding, you accumulate the pain attached to whatever you’re trying to avoid. It never goes away. We tell ourselves it does, with “control”, and materialistic things. But really, we’re just pushing it down. Letting it sit. Until it can no longer be quiet. Until you’ve experienced so much of the same pain over and over that there’s no room to hide it. It spills over, into your thoughts, into your life.

Why? Why does this keep happening to me? No matter what I do, the same shit just keeps happening over and over. Why me? Why?

That tiny dim voice you hear in the back of your mind. You can’t really tell what it’s saying and most of the time you try to ignore it. But this time, there’s something about it. Something soothing. Maybe I should give it a listen. Just see what it’s been trying to tell me all these days/months/years.

Acknowledgement.

What?

Acknowledgement.

The ego. The fear. The darkness. The pain. It all rises at once. Trying to protect you from feeling that pain. Stop! Don’t go there! You hid it away for a reason! You don’t want to feel that! It’s uncomfortable, it’s raw, you can’t handle it, you don’t want to remember - the pain. The pain. It’s safer buried deep down where it can no longer hurt you.

The ironic thing is - when you bury the pain, it’s still there. Festering. Growing. Trying to get your attention. Because the only way you can truly get rid of pain is by sitting with it. Feeling it. Owning it. Acknowledging it.

It takes courage - I want to take a moment to acknowledge anyone out there who has gone/is going/will go through this! You are brave, courageous, strong! Even when at times it feels lonely and hopeless, like you’re not getting anywhere, like you’ve fallen back to your old ways, when you feel like giving up, giving in - keep pushing through, you’ve got this! Repeat “YOU’VE GOT THIS”!

The way things have been lining up throughout this pregnancy is crazy! From when I joined Radical Awakenings, started my practice with Alexandra Roxo to finding out I was pregnant. The lessons. The journey. The insights. The pain. The comfort. The love.

Sending you so much love.

The cycle ends here. Wounds carried from one generation down to the next. It stops with me.

If I were to pick the most terrifying thing I’ve learned throughout this pregnancy, it’s that our wounds/family wounds get passed down through our wombs. Unconsciously repeated until someone stops to ask why.

When I started working with Alexandra Roxo, she helped me learn to take a step back and observe. Witness. Breath. Question. Become aware.

This was everything. Once I became aware, nothing was the same. A crack in the doorway that could no longer be unseen.

I stopped blaming myself for unnecessary things. I practiced accepting that it was ok! That was my key word “ok”.

Slowly, that really loud tormenting voice quieted. I started getting things done instead of procrastinating, pushing things off just to add fuel to and confirm the shit I was telling myself.

One day I realized I hadn’t heard that voice in days, then weeks.

Now, I get things done when I get them done. No guilt, no shame, no blame.

Awareness is a release. A relief. A new beginning. That small crack of light in the darkness. The key to that locked door. The first step on the path you’ve been scared to take.

I am so grateful for Radical Awakenings and the amazing women in my Initiation group. Their love and support has made all the difference in my journey.

I am evolving. Growing. Opening. Experiencing. Loving. Trusting. Changing. Becoming.

It’s not always easy, but definitely worth it. It sneaks up on you. One day you just realize that you’re different.

Each breath is a reminder. One step at a time.

A note to my daughter: I may not yet have met you, but I love you more than anything already. You are amazing just by being you. Now and always.    

Sending you so much love.

Pregnancy isn’t just happy, full of excitement, that beautiful glow everyone talks about.

Sometimes it’s hard. Dark. Scary. Lonely. Overwhelming. It’s important to acknowledge that side as well.

Decisions - overwhelm - roller coaster

So many decisions to make, so many options to choose from, so much information to sift through, so many different and sometimes contradictory opinions to research.

Where do you start, who do you trust, believe? Where is the line between your intuition and fact? What happens if I make the wrong decision? Can I still change it? Will I even realize it in time?

So many thoughts, questions accumulating day by day. The list keeps growing - almost like every time something gets crossed off, 5 more things pop up.

So much to do, so little time. Yet time isn’t the issue. My fluctuating abilities are. One day I can do it the next I cannot. How do I plan when I don’t know my own capability anymore? No wonder time feels like it’s slipping away. Overwhelmed with thoughts, feelings, lingering things - what is even important? Am I focusing on the right things?

A roller coaster of emotions. Feeling confident thinking “I’ve got this” to “how the hell am I supposed to get all this shit done?”.

A wave of pride when things get done then confusion when the simplest of things are a struggle.

Take a moment, breathe, slow down. The key to it all. So simple yet so hard. One day at a time, not taking it too seriously. Knowing that I am exactly where I need to be. Trusting that I will get done what needs to be done. Surrendering to my new wave of energy, embracing the quiet, the stillness. Listening. Hearing. Receiving. Remembering.

To all the pregnant mamma’s to be out there: I feel you! I love you! I support you! We’ve got this! ❤️

Sending you so much love.

Surrender is a very powerful thing. But letting go is scary.

The illusion of control seeps in and convinces you that you need it. The fear is planted, and it grows to the point where it consumes you. You become paralyzed, frozen in place, stuck, unable to feel, see, trust, believe.

Your decisions are no longer your truth, your choices no longer a choice. Obligation, expectation, frustration, anger, confusion, and eventually the loss of self connection. Depression. Feelings of inadequacy. Feelings of abandonment. Rage. Hate. Despair. Darkness.

Feeling trapped, convinced it’s because of the world. People. They just don’t get it, they just don’t understand. ‘Why am I so alone?’, ‘I did everything I was supposed to, everything I was told. Why am I left with this feeling of emptiness, this feeling of failure?’.

Crying, pain, hopelessness, fear, loneliness, more pain.

Distraction. Temporary happiness. Change of venue, change of scenery, start over. Temporary happiness.

Me age 18-32. Back and forth. Blindly following the same routine, the same beliefs, the same patterns.

Creating the same reality, over and over. Searching for help. Not finding it. Knowing this cannot be it, while battling that voice trying to convince me it is.

Then, suddenly, a shift in thinking, in belief. Just something small, something you’ve already heard, already known, but now, today it sounds different.

A crack in the darkness. All of a sudden it looks and feels different.

The sense of enough is enough.

Then the realization. It dawns on you: help has always been there. Inside you. Waiting patiently for you to take notice. Unlike fear, it doesn’t want to control you. It doesn’t want to take over, keep you small, keep you in that place of darkness convincing you it’s protecting you. It wants to connect. It wants to shift the power back to you. It wants to give you the freedom you long for, you crave. It knows how strong you are, how capable. All it wants is for you to know it too. To feel it. To embrace it. To express it. To embody it.

The moment you get quiet, silent. It comes through.

This pregnancy has brought so much of my darkness to light. Helped me learn to let go. To surrender. To acknowledge that control is a huge part of my shadow. That it’s something I am going to be working with for a while. So much more to explore and share on this topic but will leave it here for now.

To anyone pregnant out there: know that you are loved, that you are capable, that you are strong, that you are supported!

Sending you so much love.

Officially 30 weeks today, carrying this amazing little girl who is due at the end of June.

This pregnancy has been the most amazing experience -> from diving into deep wounds and healing to truly surrendering and witnessing the mind-blowing strength and intuitive knowledge of the female body.

Watching my own body grow and create another human without any control or decisions from me/my mind, letting go and surrendering has been one of the hardest lessons to learn. The strength and courage it takes to fully trust in the unknown and acknowledge that there is only so much you can do, you can offer. Knowing that that is enough, that that is all you need, is another lesson in itself.

Reaching depths you knew you had but thought were untouchable. Understanding that the knowledge is there waiting for you to open and accept.

Ready to love you just as you are - every inch of you.

No judgment, no expectations, just love. Pure love.

The feeling of ecstasy.

Embracing, engulfing, embodying.

Knowing that you’ve crossed that bridge, that doorway into a whole new way of thinking, seeing, feeling.

Being open to pain, understanding that without it you couldn’t know, learn, grow. Accepting it and using it as a tool to better yourself, not only for you but for those around you, for the one growing inside you.

The changes, the newness, the untouched, the path not yet wandered - all things that make up life’s tiny adventures.

To all my fellow pregnant women out there: you are amazing, you are strong, beautiful, fierce, powerful, and loved. I believe in you, and know you believe in me. We are in this together, never alone, always connected!

Sending you so much love.