Finally I Saw Therapist

Finally I got some face to face help. Two sessions today after calling around yesterday to see if I could talk to someone. I felt the dark wave of grief and despair rolling over me yesterday. I know this feeling. I know it very well since having my child. It was a very traumatic experience for me and I haven’t felt confident to seek a qualified professional as I didn’t have Permanent Residency and didn’t want to jeopardise my chances of getting to stay with my family here in Australia. Now I do have PR and I am working through this now.

The first session was a woo woo style practitioner. She let me ramble and ramble, and that’s what I did. I cried a bit, told my story, described how I felt in creative ways, and at the end did some sand play where I just created what was circling in me and brought it to the surface. That was fun, I always enjoy these kinds of ways of bringing out creativity and to help gain insight. I described what I thought about each piece I chose to add from her shelves of figurines. I chose a mini pot of flowers to add beauty and symbolise the circular path that life seems to be. I chose a native woman carrying a child on her back and a golly wog doll which is an inherently racist black doll that is very kitsch Australian, and I chose these because I feel empathy for them, and in my own plight I understand theirs better. I chose Merlin with a unicorn to help represent how magic is all around, I just have to ask and see it. I chose a happy smiling buddha because I want more of that in my life, but am not sure how to fully detach to get to that stage these days. In the middle I drew out two big eyes, like that Grateful Dead song that goes “wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world” as it’s been running through my head for days now. All in all, it was a good session and I appreciated having that kind of very soft space to talk about things.

The second session was just a few doors down, also upstairs in this downtown charming historic town. When I walked into the stairwell it smelt like beauty parlour that specialises in waxing, and it took me by surprise. I guess that smell went with how I felt when I was in the session, very similar to when you are going in for a wax, you know you need to do it, you know you’ll love the results, but for christ sakes the process is painful, but some areas are strangely very satisfying and almost enjoyable in their pain. The psychologist was an older woman who I can only guess has hair that reaches all the way down her back, she had it piled up high on her head into a bun, she’s of retirement age, but so youthful and full of energy as soon as she opened her mouth with a bright sparkle in her eyes. She wore older woman nice clothes, you know the kind that were popular ages ago and they’re still in fine knick but not necessarily up to date. She also wore a beautiful broach that coordinated with her maroon pantsuit which gave me a sense of comfort thinking about how my grandmother used to wear broaches.

We got down to business after I sat in her narrow office. I had already filled out the paperwork, which thankfully my husband’s work pays for these sessions so we don’t have to pay out the $175 per visit as the contract had read. I get five sessions with her under his program and I will use them all. She asked me to give her a summary of why I am there and what I’ve been up to. So I backtracked to 2010 and mentioned that after a head on collision that happened just months after arriving in Australia, that I received counselling which was very helpful. I mentioned that due to a Medical Treatment visa I was able to stay here, and that’s in the timeframe that I met my husband. I mentioned about going back to University and finishing my bachelors. I mentioned that although my husband and I both had chosen in our earlier lives to not have children, that together we changed our direction and intentionally created our son who was conceived on our wedding day out of love, and that he is all love. I then talked about how that pregnancy went haywire, and I ended up in hospital for nearly three weeks until an emergency caesar where he was extracted from my body, and put into the NICU in a  plexiglass box and that a couple days later I was able to see him and all of it was very disorienting. I told her that before I was put under with the gas that I made peace with my life because I thought I was going to die, and how I had just left my husband’s hand in this stark white corridor on the way to the surgery area. I talked about how I had been so straight during my pregnancy with everything I was consuming and then all of a sudden I was taking major drugs to help me cope with the pain, and how that along with having to inject myself with a needle to help prevent dissolve the blood clot that had formed in my groin, was the worst kind of self harm I’ve ever known physically, and all of it took me so far from my natural clear headed state. I talked about the uncertainty when bringing home our child, and being all alone in Sydney with my husband working shifts of four days on and four days off, and not having any additional help and those first months were the darkest of my entire life. I shared how when I think of the newborn phase I think of the smell of Aquim hand sanitiser, chords, beeping, uncertainty, pain, hurt, and grief. I shared with her out loud things that I have never shared with anyone else that went on in my mind during that stage and I wept so loudly and it all came out. I completely lost it, and it may have only been in the first ten minutes of me walking in. Progress was being made.

She talked about the amygdala and how it stores all of our past experiences and how it’s like a volcano that has many layers and how when something gets triggered it then accesses every time I’ve ever had that feeling, and this made perfect sense to me. I had thought of it as wells of emotion within me, something I was holding, something I was internalising, something that was there always with me. She helped me to see that the release can happen by changing it to be a volcano versus a well, and to do whatever I need to in order to get the hell out of the fucking well. She didn’t say it quite like that but this was definitely how I heard it.

She talked about how this kind of trauma creates spikes in my cortisol levels and with that comes fight, flight or freeze. This was also an ah-ha moment to me. I know that my cortisol levels have been spiked from childhood due to having a very traumatic upbringing, and over the years it was clear to me what I was doing I was definitely fighting or fleeing the situation. This time around I have been full on in freeze mode. I hadn’t even considered that freeze was an option, and that’s exactly where I’ve been for the past three years. Adding on the waiting for Permanent Residency and that just created a stronger freeze feeling for me. So I’ve been on edge pretty much my whole life and in this last stretch, it has become freeze and now I get to fucking work it out so I can move forward. No more internalising. I see it, I understand, I have ways to move past this, and now that is what I am doing.

She talked about the importance of getting my levels checked to make sure all of my vitamins, thyroid and all other blood markers are normal in case that needed attention. Thankfully I’ve had those earlier this year due to the endometriosis. Oh speaking of endometriosis, she also said that by keeping all of this in my “well” rather that in a volcano, it would create disease in my body, and then I told her about the endometriosis, which completely makes sense. It came on strong and seemingly all of a sudden, and lasted about ten months. After using the Mirena IUD and getting PR, it’s amazing how it’s settled down, but not at all surprising as I’m not as on edge about everything.

She talked about the importance of deep breathing. 3 count in, hold for 3 and release for 5. She said that if I’m in freeze mode and I’m shallow breathing all of my cells think that they are also in survival mode. She gave an extra oomph to it by talking about Taming the Tiger, and with the breathing to clench my fists in the in breath, and release my hands completely in the out breath to signal to my body physically as well that it’s time for this to go. I loved this. I love that this is actionable and we did it in her office, and I could feel the difference. I will continue to do this.

Overall I feel completely drained from today. My eyes are so tired and dry from all of the crying I’ve done, by far more than I’ve cried anytime in the past couple years, probably not since my father died two years ago. Interesting that it’s also his birthday today, feels very auspicious. I don’t want to be that kind of parent and it almost feels like I’m honouring that by getting help now.

I see her next week and I really look forward to it. I am writing it out. I am moving past this. Thank fucking god. I’m so ready.

A Pivotal Moment

The last time I had a scare in the feminine area, I had some precancerous cells taken off of my cervix. This was enough to scare the hell out of me and enough to light a major fire under my bum to change my life. I had been working for a corporation for about nine years at the time and at that stage I was the Accounting Manager for our operation at the Grand Canyon, and wasn’t really enjoying it all that much. I found that just because you are relatively good at something doesn’t mean that’s what you are meant to be doing. I had also recently left a long term relationship with a person who I should have stopped dating six months into it, but I was young, naive, and really he was emotionally abusive, specifically with mind games and I had a hard time navigating out of it, until right before I got the call about my very abnormal pap smear.

I was twenty six just made the cut-off age for the Gardasil vaccine to prevent anything else like that happening down there for me, I was living on my own, dating various guys one after another in a very short time frame, and was really lost. Eventually came this over the top very passionate Brazilian man into my life and I just needed everything about that at the time. I ended up resigning from my job and gave away everything I owned and moved to Brazil.

This crazy time prompted a total life change. A complete jumping of timelines into a complete different path and universe. I am so thankful that it happened and I did what I did because I am here now with this beautiful son and husband that I have.

So my mind goes into thoughts about what is going on in my life, and what needs to change because something major needs to shift externally as well. I am unwell in my body for some reason, yes it can just be a random event that is happening in my body, but I do strongly believe that my mind and personal well being really does have an impact on my health. It will be essential for me to create an environment that is more aligned with my values and life. I know this. I know this means not being in the suburbs even though I have a great group of friends from my mum and bub group.

I am open to change. I am specifically open to positive change that is beneficial for myself and my loved ones.

Navigating the Waters

In the last week, I have turned a corner, a major corner. I have started to allow someone else to look after my child in a maximum of 2 hour increments. This is a big deal. He’s now almost 22 months, and prior to now, I pretty much count on one hand the number of times someone else has looked after him besides my husband or myself.

I have so many feelings that are arising from this. Perhaps this is what primary carers of little people go through with this transition. Simultaneously wanting to have freedom and independence, but at the same time wanting to make sure that my little person is completely taken care of. The feeling of, YES FINALLY, I’m Doing Something For Myself, AND the feeling of guilt that someone else is looking after my most precious being, who is completely defenceless, completely incapable of articulating with words anything that goes on.

Exhale. I am doing that a lot, deep breathing. He is going to the day care option that is available at the gym I have joined. It’s all super new, totally customer oriented, and really top of the line. The classes are incredible, the machines are the newest available, the instructors are top notch, the child care is incredible. Even in the baby area, they have a huge play section that rivals the places you have to pay to go into for $12 for 2 hours where you have to buy an obligatory coffee as well. The carers are so lovely, so friendly, so very obviously kid people with big hearts and huge smiles.

All of this is good, I know it. I do. Me progressing forward by moving my body and getting back into shape, along with allowing the next stage of our lives to happen by me letting go and accepting help with my child. I know all of this, I know it’s truly all good. There is still a fountain of feelings coming up and I can’t ignore them. I even invited a fellow Mum from my mum and bub group to come over and watch a tear jerking movie that left us both sobbing, just so we could let the emotions out in a safe place.

The new chapter is beginning and I am grieving the last one. It’s normal, and it’s okay. I have loads of self compassion for myself and am being as gentle with me as I possibly can in this transition. I am also doing my best to be there for my son while he transitions, because it’s also a major shift for him as well. Such a big deal.

Full Cup

My cup feels so incredibly full right now. So full of joy, so full of warmth and love. It’s in the Northern Rivers where I feel this kind of ease and peace. When I was driving back from the shops, I saw my moon, the sliver that looks like a smile in the sky. Its the moon that I see as a reminder that I am in the right place. I looked up as I drove and said out loud in the car by myself “I know, I know”. This is the place where we need to be, where I and my family need to be.

I started to demand that the Universe show the steps, show the way now for this to happen. I am ready, I have never been more ready than right now. Our child is ready and it’s time for him to be spending more time with his grandparents while they are still able. It’s time for us to have the comforts and security of having money along with healthcare. It’s time for all of this. I love this feeling of a full cup, and I want more please. Thank you.

One Million Dollars

Truth is we really do need one million dollars. Well, specifically Nine Hundred and Ninety-Five Thousand dollars plus fees for buying the land. It’s my husband’s family’s farm, the bulk of the acreage. The family does need the money, his parents are in their 80s and they need to look after this next stage of life, which includes building a specific place to grower in, and having a carer. The other part of the farm, the smaller acreage is still theirs, but it only has about 3 usable acres, with the rest on a slope with trees they planted years ago, which apparently now they can’t cut down due to the possibility of koalas going through there. As much as I understand the koala situation, I also have never once seen a koala there and haven’t heard of seeing one ever.

We need to be the ones to buy that portion of the farm. It needs to be us because we will continue to treat the land fairly, we won’t infringe on his parents, we will allow the poultry processing plant which is on the smaller acreage to continue, and we will be great neighbours. We want to build a house on the farmland so that we can raise our son, and possibly other children if we have them, there too, just like my husband was raised there.

I ought to not go into too many details but I can say that the family farm and land is all under a trust and because of that the members have to vote on what happens, and not everyone wants the land to be kept. Not everyone has the attachment, and not everyone has the keen desire to see it kept in the family either. I’m not going to judge, but it certainly affects us and we have to deal with it.

After calling council and realising that they have a rule in place where a farm zoned area cannot be broken into smaller acreages other than by two, apparently, then the 110 acres must be sold in two lots as they are. They do this in order to stop people from whittling down the land to keep it farmland. Honestly there is no way in hell that a property that is one million dollars would ever recoup that running cattle, or chickens or any other animal that is suitable for that hilly land. So farmers are cut out of the option. Next would be someone who wants to buy the land and build a house on the “million dollar view” land, but surely they wouldn’t use it for farm land, unless it was a hobby farm and they didn’t need to generate money from it.

Since we are in the start up phase of our family life, we are not in the position to have that kind of money laying around, especially because I chose for me to stay at home with the baby to be the primary carer and to ensure that he is well looked after. I do not regret this one bit, AND I’d like to have the money to do this anyway.

So in essence I felt very sad, frustrated, dismayed and physically in pain when I saw the farm posted up on the real estate web page. There it was, with my mother-in-law’s Simmental cows grazing in the paddocks. It’s been talked about for a while and I’ve know this was coming, but something made it all too real seeing it posted along with every other property that is out there. It’s just so sad to me and I want to change this. We want it for all the right reasons, and I know life isn’t always fair, but I really want it to go in our favour, very soon and now, please.

Birthing a New World Part 1

My son was conceived on a glorious day of love, a celebration of my marriage, which is also my birthday, specifically on our wedding day. We intentionally created him with love, had just weeks prior made a wish at a Shiva celebration asking for a healthy, fun, baby boy. We offered up our milk, ate some lovely Indian food, and made love each time with full intention and presence.

I started to get sick on the honeymoon, but didn’t think I was pregnant, just thought the circumstances of stress from the farm, getting over a flu, the exhale moment when the wedding is done and life moves along, and being out on an island in the Whitsundays taking trips out in the Great Barrier Reef.

By time we got back home, I knew I was pregnant. I still took a test to confirm at 4am with my first mornings urine which is supposed to have the best rate of truth, I wanted to be sure, and I was. I woke my husband up and told him excitedly, he smiled at me and then we went back to sleep. I was pregnant and it certainly didn’t take long, I had only taken my IUD out less than a month before hand. Everything was happening very quickly!

I had what seemed like a mini period after that, which caused concern, even though I was feeling nauseated. The GP suggested I go in to the radiologist to have a sonogram as soon as I could, so I booked the next appointment I could, and went in. As I laid on the table, I was scared, what if I had lost the baby? I was so new to all of this. My husband wasn’t available to come with me, so I was there alone, and I felt just that, all alone. Then all of a sudden there was a heartbeat, and I was both relieved that it was there and also sad that I couldn’t share this first heartbeat experience with my husband. I saw my insides on the monitor and baby looked like a little dot amongst it all, but alas baby was there. It turns out that was implantation bleeding, which can occur for some women when the egg plants itself into the lining of the uterus.

For the rest of the first trimester, I experienced the most nausea I have ever had in my life. I took ginger, I went to acupuncture, I ate small bites of food regularly, and it never subsided. I really pride myself in the fact that I can avoid puking if I want, every so often I just cannot handle it and I have to vomit, but in this case, for weeks, months actually I was so sick but never actually vomiting. I was hot, like burning up hot most of the time. The acupuncturist would try to lower my heat from my upper body into my legs, and it did work a bit, it at least gave me peace of mind and I was able to cope a little better. During that first trimester I had to really take it easy, but I couldn’t, not really.

Also during the first trimester, the climax of a big dispute of the processing plant tenants at the farm came, it had been building as they had not been taking care of the animals and we even had to intervene and feed the starving animals ourselves on the eve of our wedding night. The whole time during our honeymoon, we, more so my husband, had to deal with the issue, and it was intense. When we got back my husband had to get to work in Sydney, so I was there at the farm with his parents and a few woofers trying to make a presence and not let anything happen. They were hostile and very volatile and we did not trust them at all to leave peacefully. I was on edge and I know that certainly did not help my pregnancy. Along with that, the farmhouse upstairs has this incredible way of syphoning all of the cooking smell from downstairs to the upstairs where the rooms are. So every day I would have nausea and have to smell cooking flesh on the stove, it was almost more than I could bear. I had to ask the woofers to wear deodorant, but only a non fragrant kind. Nausea and farm life really don’t go so well together, with animals being slaughtered, carcases decomposing, and all of the chicken poop and animal smells that come along with a farm.

It was so hard for me to be away from my husband, but I did not want to move to Sydney. I did not want to raise our son in the city, I did not want to move away from the group of friends I had made in country, but I missed him so much, that eventually in the 2nd trimester, I made the move down with him full time. As soon as I was in Sydney, in our new penthouse apartment, I hardly had nausea or morning sickness. By the way, whomever called it morning sickness may have been thinking globally at the time, because it is certainly not contained to one morning in one hemisphere, mine lasted all day and night every day at the farm.

During all of this, I had many different projects going on. I had hired on a coaching team to help me build my own business from scratch, which was becoming harder and harder to manage with my fluctuating levels of energy, feeling unwell, and a totally spacey head. I had a very candid conversation with one of the coaches, and she told me to stop doing it, if there was any advice she would give it would be to stop and not do it, being a soon to be new mother and trying to start a business at the same time was a disaster recipe, and that the most important thing was my child and to not make the same mistake she made by trying to do it all. She also suggested getting a really comfortable reclining chair to live in with the baby. I took her suggestions on board and she was right, although I will get back to it and finish what I started, when the time is right.

We also had the closing of the abattoir at the farm, which was a very big deal. There was also an internet business that my husband and I were getting into, which long story short, over a year of being dragged along, paying out our noses and still not getting to the point where we could sell the internet to others, Telstra finally got back to my husband with the contract. It’s such bologna that any independent resellers have to go through the one company which owns all the lines in Australia that were actually paid fro by the people before they fave it over to this private corporation, who more or less has a monopoly over all the lines across the country. Of course they don’t want competition, there is no reason for them to help someone compete with them, it’s a very flawed system. We didn’t think it was going to be such a big issue, but it was, had we have known we wouldn’t have been stuck into it as long as we did with our finances draining by the month.

Along with this I was still contemplating whether or not to take up the offer for Honours at University and to teach the Digital Marketing class part time. It would have to be all out of pocket as I didn’t have PR, and was considered an international student. The next question was whether or not I would be able to handle having a newborn, living in the Northern Rivers while my husband was in Sydney and trying to do it all. This had to wait as well.

I also started up a mini little network marketing business to help generate some income, which ended up me just spending a lot of money in the way of their products, which while the dollar was one to one, it wasn’t so bad. I sent out heaps of greeting cards and that felt really good, until the realisation that the only way you make money is not by having others buy your greeting cards, but they have to be distributors as well, it felt a bit strange, and I found that it didn’t work as well in Australia, especially as the US dollar increased in value, it became really expensive to keep this going. Eventually I stopped paying and my account has just enough to send a few more cards and then its done.

So there were all of these projects happening, lots of stress, and then a move, to a place I didn’t really want to live, but did because I wanted, err, needed, to be with my husband.

I started trying to figure out where to do antenatal classes that fit in with my husbands rotating schedule, I didn’t get into this alone and I didn’t want to do it alone. I found a birthing from within program in the Northern Rivers and it fit the dates in my 3rd trimester, and I felt better. I had luckily gotten in to the caseload midwife program at the local hospital near the farm where I could have a water birth and be assisted by lovely experienced women with the security of having the hospital as well just in case anything went awry.

There was still a lot of stress regarding the projects we had going on, but I was getting everything sorted one by one. Then at one of the ultrasound appointments, I was told that my placenta was low lying, and that if it didn’t move up, then I would have to have to have a cesarian. This was the opposite of the midwife assisted water birth I had planned to do without any kind of medication. I kept hoping it was wrong and was misdiagnosed due to me not drinking enough water so they could see inside properly with their machine. At the 20 week scan, we saw that my son was not shy at all and was showing his parts in full glory. I was going to have a boy. It was all pretty surreal and was happening.

After a quick trip back to the farm, I got back on the plane to Sydney and was required to show my letter stating I was okay to fly. I honestly didn’t feel very good at all. The day before I had spent a little time in the healing waters of Lake Ainsworth, a nearby tea tree oil infused lake, which happens to be my favourite lake in the world. I was told later that it was an aboriginal birthing lake, which maybe somehow my body knew that.

We landed in Sydney, I met up with a Uni friend and strolled the open gardens on a lovely spring day at Westmeade hospital, and I was tired, very very tired. I had only just finished my 2nd trimester, the baby wasn’t due for another almost three months, but I was so exhausted. That evening, I went to the toilet and found that I was bleeding, a lot of blood. Interestingly only a week or so before, as a precaution I booked into the local Nepean Hospital just in case I needed anything while I was in Sydney related to my pregnancy. We called and they said to come in, and this was the first of many experiences I had with the birthing suite. They wanted to monitor the baby’s heartbeat and to make sure everything was okay. Turns out everything was okay, and that bleeding was par for the course when it came to having a low lying placenta. After a couple of days they let me go home after it was clear that I wasn’t bleeding anymore. I was relieved and very tired.

Since we lived in penthouse apartment that was a walkup, that meant I had to somehow make it up 4 flights of stairs to my bedroom. It was horrendous. We had to move. We had to move for other reasons as well. We had these two older Sri Lankans who totally leached off of us for more months than I care to admit. My husband didn’t want to deal with it as he had his plate absolutely full, and they kept promising they would pay rent. We took on two additional housemates on top of them to help pay the rent, so there was a full house on top of it all. We started looking intently for another place to live that was clean, nice, and not too expensive. I had been looking when I would come to Sydney from the farm and just couldn’t find anything that would work, the one place that did was then pulled last minute and rented to a friend of the owner. By chance, we were directed by a real estate agent to a place we hadn’t even noticed online, and it was the right one, so we signed on, things were looking up. It was a ground level, stand alone two storied town house with three bedrooms and three bathrooms with a a cute backyard. Perfect for what we needed and it was brand new.

I had another bout of bleeding a week later and again, we rushed to hospital, this time there was more blood than I’ve ever seen rushing out of my body.

To be continued.

8 Hours a Day

8 Hours A Day

The only time I get

to play

to read

to cuddle

to laugh

to share meals

to learn

with my darling son.

He is 16 months old.

He sleeps

more or less

on average

16 hours in a 24 hour period.

 

With the thought of doing a job outside of the home, it’s almost like the decision has been made, almost in the same way that you know the answer before the coin drops and you find out if it’s heads or tails. I do not want to be away from my baby for 7 hours a day 4 days a week. I don’t want to see him in the morning and then not again until it’s dinner time then bath and bedtime. Just thinking about that makes my stomach turn. I chose to have Baby A. I had NO idea how much I would change in all of this, but I am not willing to sacrifice my time with him, for a pocketful of dimes. I know that we are tight financially, so I will find another way to help bring in cashflow. A way that has me still here within reach for anything that my baby needs.

 

In the last two weeks we have gotten an au pair and life has already felt so much easier in comparison. I really do a lot in my days to keep my baby and myself happy and healthy. I do a lot to help keep my husband happy and healthy. I do a lot to keep our house and our home environment happy, healthy, and clean. It’s not that I am sitting idle. Far from it. I do have some down time, and it does seem to pass by very quickly while he naps, but I need that down time.

 

I am just not ready. I don’t think he is either. We have the opportunity for it not to happen and I will find another way.

Heaviness Before Change

Heaviness upon my chest

heaviness upon my heart

slow breath

worry in my head

change is coming.

This feeling is familiar

it comes every time

just before the door opens

the door that I’ve been wanting

it’s all as I have scripted

and yet

I feel the weight of my world.

Is this how the caterpillar feels?

Is this how the fetus feels?

That feeling of being in the tunnel

seeing the small light

knowing it will only get bigger

and envelope me

changing my perspective

changing how I operate

changing how I see the world

changing how I interact.

That heavy feeling is with me.

The Au Pair starts tomorrow.

Baby is coming up to 16 months.

A huge adjustment for me

no longer the 2 hours a day I get to myself

to eat, shower, and clean up

I will not cling to this old way of being

it is time for me to emerge into the next stage

of who I am

of who I will be

of who I am evolving into.

Until then I sit with this heaviness

and thank it

for I know

major change

is happening

now.

 

So Glad I Got Out of There

I look back at all of the unnecessary immature drama that happens where I’m from and it makes me so grateful that I had the sense to get up and leave. I always knew I was different and thankfully that was a driving force.

For some reason I’ve been getting the Hanford Sentinel emailed to me, and I know I did not give them my email address, and I live on the other side of the world, so there are a lot of questions. I’ve been casually reading it when it comes in and it’s violence this, drugs that, homelessness this, down and out lives that. Its heavy. It’s where I’m from and my family still lives there. How do they do it? Do they just become immune to the way that life is there? Is that why people stay where they are? They are comfortable? Are they comfortable? Is feeling unsafe a status quo? I’m so glad that I went against the grain.

 

Struggle

You never know what people are going through.

Some hide it with a smile

Some hide it with achieving great things

Some hide it by being the centre of attention, on stage

Most quietly go through their struggles, alone.

The older I get and the more I actually talk with people about what is really happening in their lives, I realise that we all have baggage of some sort. Some of it we acknowledge because it’s painstakingly clear, but some is so obscure and its like we unintentionally continue to act it out without awareness.

I have met so very many people in my life from all over the world due to living and working on popular destinations and from living abroad. I never really knew about the struggles that people were going through. I always kept it light and tried to just be present with what was going on at the time.

Now that I’ve gone through and am still going through my own struggles relating to the emotional pain I experienced leading up and birthing my son, I notice that more people open up to me about their own struggles. I had this happen as well after the head on collision, but not in the same way, now it is so raw, it is an emotional wound that I and other women that I have been speaking to, carry within themselves, not for show in the outside world, like a scar across the face.

Part of me thinks that the internal struggle that none can physically see is the harder to bear. At least when having a scar exposed, the topic is already on the table. However, for an internal scar, a wound that maybe hasn’t healed yet, it needs to be talked about in a loving space.

For most things in life I think that its best to just move on and focus on whats happening now and by doing so, life will automatically readjust to be the best for you. However, now having experienced this major internal trauma, I find it absolutely essential to talk about it, to feel all the emotions in order to process it as best as we can, and then allow time to lessen the burn.

I found myself bawling in a mother’s group that I am a part of yesterday as another woman shared her traumatic birthing experience, it felt all so real, and I know that we were so close to being like her, losing her baby at the final moment due to the same placental abruption that I had gone through with Baby A.

I felt the pain as it was so fresh, the wound was wide open. Some days I think I have been able to come to peace with it, and then other days I am completely amidst the throes of the memory. When Baby A came down with a cold around Mother’s Day all of those same painful emotions and fears came rushing back. I wasn’t expecting it, I wasn’t prepared for it, but all I could do was try to stay present, as present as possible.

My method of staying present when the feelings come rushing in when I am taking care of bubs and cannot have the time alone to really feel the feelings to let the go, I bring it back to right now, I remind myself that we are safe, we are alive, we are healthy, this is now, and I find some way to smile, to laugh.

I need to remember this, that everyone is struggling in some way the next time I get mad at someone on the road, or get frustrated with the way I see people behaving with their children. We all have something. We all have something to learn and grow from.