Catching up. Been on hiatus, I guess– coming into peace, acceptance — growing up again. Talking with my eldest daughter last night brought something to speak of, the richness, the bounty, the abundance she has brought to my life.
I was a frightened child when she was born, as was she. She was left alone in the nursery, one nursery after another, my tender, sensitive, vulnerable babe. She was given food, clothing and basic schooling by her adoptive family as best they could manage. They were dealing with a fantastic, wondrous creature that was beyond their understanding.
At our reunion, after the birth of her own son, my teenage trauma returned. I fought it, perceiving my failure and weakness could dishonor or discredit mothering my two younger children. It’s taken many years to get to this last year, which has been so refreshing, where I’ve risked owning my own life. It took a lot of baby steps. The biggest ones were to stand and look at what had been unbearable, unspeakable, intolerable– to bear it by speaking and acknowledging it. Sometimes I have to close my eyes for a little while, check my breathing, know I am still alive, allow the loving to rise up inside me again, knowing I always loved her. She grew in my belly physically, but she lives in my heart. She always has, always will. Always.
And now, she is still shaking some things loose, and she is part of my ‘routine life’. She’s met the family. Everyone knows she is part of the litany of what’s going on with my kids these days. And she’s brought me healing through the ability to own my life, to trust myself with my own life, instead of being afraid of being found incompetent again. I was incompetent. I failed with my first babe. But she came back to me.
I am richer and stronger for it. I am more wholly, holy, myself. I am grateful.