4 Months

So, today I sit at the birth center preparing for a long one-day childbirth class. I enjoy these classes. They are long and exhausting but I still love teaching them.

But today I wish I could be at the cemetery.

Today driving in all I could think about was 4 months ago. 4 months seems like an eternity in so many ways and in other ways it's been like the blink of an eye.

As I mentioned in my last post, something is changing in this journey of grief I am on. I feel more raw these days. I guess I feel as though the numbness is wearing off. Just when I thought I was doing pretty well, the grief lets me know I still have a long way to go. I still have much to feel and much to work through and it reminds me that it's only been 4 months.

I did 4 births in the past 4 weeks. I've been stuck close to home not wanting to be too far away when a client called. But I have a little time off now and hope to make it to the cemetery this week and hopefully up to see dad either this upcoming week or next. It's been too long. How I am looking forward to longer days. Entering grief as the days shortened and winter came upon us was hard. Spring always makes me feel more hopeful. I'm ready for the birds to sing. I'm ready for the flowers to bloom. Although I wonder if maybe Winter gave me time to hibernate a little and sit quietly with my grief and with Spring comes awakening. And with that awakening comes more reality, more understanding, more things to feel. There have certainly been many more tears. Many more "moments" of clarity.

This Spring I see the world differently. I remember driving up and down I-5 last year and thinking, "This may be the last Spring my mom sees". And I wanted to capture the images in my brain for her. And in some ways I did. I remember the snapshot moments when I wanted to remember a beautiful tree or a sunset or sunrise. I'll never forget the sunrise in the morning after spending all night long in the ER with mom when she was in the hospital in April.

This Thursday I begin a new childbirth class series. It was the one I was finishing on the night mom and dad called to tell me about mom's diagnosis. Last Spring I spent on the road. This Spring I will continue to be grieving. It's almost been a year since that phone call dropped me to my knees and changed everything.

And I'm still here. And Spring is coming again. And once again, it makes me feel hopeful. And yet, a little nervous at the same time.

I mentioned to my Aunt Judy that I feel like the only way I can survive this journey of grief is to fully surrender to it and believe in the process. It is not always easy to do so, but I'm trying.

Four months. The journey continues. The tears, the memories, the pain continues and changes from day to day. But there is happiness and smiles and laughter as well. I've said it many times, but the human spirit is amazing. How we keep going is incredible. And yet, we just do. And the world keeps turning and babies are born and good things happen. Four months ago, I didn't believe that was possible, but now I know it is. My world has gone on without my mom. It will never be the same and I miss her every single day...even more so today than 4 months ago. But today I will teach a childbirth class to 8 couples who will bring a new baby into their lives this Spring. And they remind me that just as I teach them that they will have to surrender to labor, I continue to need to surrender to my grief. Each new baby brings hope. I am blessed to be surrounded by so much new life and new hope and joy.

And if I can't make it to the cemetery today then there is no place I'd rather be than here at the birth center surrounded by families filled with joy, knowing no matter where I am, I am always carrying my mom with me in my heart.

"When the heart weeps for what it has lost; the Spirit laughs for what it has gained."

One of my Facebook friends posted this last week. It's a sufi proverb and really spoke to me.

It says pretty much everything of what I feel these days. My heart is still broken. It probably always will be. But my spirit has changed.

As I've mentioned, these past few weeks, mom has been noticeably absent. I miss her terribly. I was at a birth on Tuesday and there was a moment when my client was pushing and both her parents were in the room and her dad said, "Boy, this really makes you appreciate all your mom went through for you, huh?" And my eyes welled up with tears instantaneously and I had to physically re-compose myself.

I couldn't help but think how I probably never appreciated all my mom did for me enough. It was if, in that split second of a moment, much of my mom's life as a mother passed through me. I "felt" her pregnant with me. I "felt" her lying on the operating room table when she delivered me by cesarean. I "felt" all the motherly pangs of raising a child. It was literally a split second, but I felt like I was whisked to another time and place and came back and the tears wanted to come. But having the Doula in a heap of tears in the corner doesn't usually look good, so I composed myself and moved forward. But I don't know that I'll ever forget that moment.

Then today I was working at the birth center and a baby had recently been born. The grandparents arrived to meet their new grandbaby and I welcomed them as they entered the birth center. They were so excited and the grandmother's face was just beaming. And the tears came again. I was able to quickly compose myself once again, but these moments have surprised me lately. There have been many more tears. Last night I was finally able to let some of them out, and even that surprised me when the flood gates opened. And yet, this morning, the tears were back again.

My grief feels like it is entering a different stage...or moving backwards...or something...just different. I imagine it will be like this forever. Different stages of forever grief.

But as my heart weeps, my spirit continues to gain knowledge and strength and belief. It's a fascinating journey. If you asked me what kind of transforming experiences I've had in my life, they would be few. The birth of my children, my divorce from their father and the loss of my mom. And all those have taken place in the last 11 years. Maybe it's just a person's 30s and 40s. Maybe that's when the transformations begin. I don't know. I just know that those 4 events are the moments when I felt a shift in my being. A shift in who I was. A shift in who I became as a result. I'm still in the "becoming" stage after mom's death but the transformation is apparent...at least to me.

"When the heart weeps for what it has lost; the Spirit laughs for what it has gained."

I couldn't agree more.