Brought by the sea

This morning I took a long walk on the beach. I walked all the way to the end of the wavebreaker and stood for a long time (it was probably three and a half minutes but it felt like a really long time) looking out over the sea.

It is amazing how much breathing and feeling space I have given myself by opening up about my fears right here on the blog. Through sharing my fear I have created room to move. And through moving I loosen the bonds of fear further.

I find it a terrible terrifying thought that Isabelle will ever suffer pain. I find it a terrible and terrifying thought that I will not be able to protect her against this pain. I find it unbearable to think that I will in fact be causing some of it (if not most). And yet, it is a certainty that she will suffer, and it is a certainty that she will suffer through me. How can I live knowing this?

In my enlightened moments (the beach being a very enlightening place), though, I know that for me to stand between Isabelle and pain is not a good idea. I know that it is not helpful to me. I know that it is not helpful to her. I know that it is not what my role as her mother is. I know that it is robbing her, and me, of something essential. I know it is not love, but fear.

By taking pain away from her, I am teaching her to depend on others to deal with pain. I teach her that she is unable to cope with pain herself. I teach her that without me (or someone else) she will in fact die. I am robbing her of her own strength.

I am here to be an example to her, and a guide. I am here to show her through my own experience that pain is an important phase of growth, and that she is strong enough to bear all the pain in the world and come out on the other side a wiser stronger person. To do so, I need to believe this about myself. And to act on this belief.

I believe children come to us bearing great gifts. Isabelle came into my life, she took me by the hand and brought me to a place inside myself where there is peace, trust and unbridled creativity. A place I had no idea existed. She did this simply by being her own gentle self and by letting me love her. I have no words to thank her.

The child inside me is bringing gifts of its own. Already now, from the height of its unborn three inches, it is challenging me to take risks, ruffling my feathers, cutting off fake easy options, confronting me, helping me and guiding me out of my fear, right through my pain, into healing.