The Wait.
What happens when there’s nothing to do but wait?
give this writing a listen should that be easier/better for you. click play above!
This morning Noelle and I danced in the kitchen specifically to the Grateful Dead. My little one naked except for a flowing pink scarf she chose from her basket of goodies. The freeness of watching her groove and move gave me immense joy. She arrived earth side to the tunes of the Dead so it felt like the best choice to try to coax her brother to come on out. I’m ready. Noelle says he’s big enough now and tells him “Out!”. But as I learned with my first birth, my readiness either doesn’t matter or is wrongly self perceived. Ready is when it (whatever “it” is) happens and when it comes to birth, there is no way to predict anything. Unless, perhaps, you plan a c-section which I’ve definitely been tempted by…
So here we are, in The Wait.
A friend last night used those exact words, The Wait, to describe this period of time in pregnancy, as we gathered for a small mama blessing ceremony. That’s exactly what this phase is. A deep offering to surrender and to just… wait.
What happens when we wait?
What happens when there’s nothing to do but wait?
It can feel like nothing is happening which might be why it’s so uncomfortable for me. It forces a confrontation with the parts of myself that strive to plan and strategize. The parts that think they’re in control. The confrontation always reveals the core truth that I’m never in control of anything. Absolutely nothing. While also revealing how much energy I put into seeking control of the circumstances and events of my life. At best, I’m learning, we’re invited to be willing participants for the journeys offered. But the idea we’re in the driver’s seat? Total illusion.
I can lay here and do my best act of being such an intuitive mama, that I’ll make myself believe I can “know” when my baby boy will arrive. I end up laughing, telling him only he might know and then being left mostly frustrated with that realization: I again will only hold the knowing when and after “it” happens.
What are you being invited to intentionally wait on?
To give up the act of controlling and manipulating, to instead release and open into the mysterious unknown?
With being in The Wait for a handful of days already, I notice interesting shifts. I’m officially not working, having entered my maternity pause. This time around, it’s been easier to fully disengage from things work related and to welcome this time of rest. What I notice most, is a burst of creative energy. It’s beautifully aligned with Spring, that is slower here in the North. The grass takes longer to green, the daffodils longer to bloom (still waiting on those buds to open). I desire to get my body moving and my hands filled with dirt. I try to do the outdoor things but find myself quickly exhausted. I resort to sitting on the stairs, staring at the leaves I want to rake and the gardens I wish to prepare.
A touch restless, I pulled out the paints and canvases I haven’t touched in probably a year or more. I let it rip! I poured wild colors out onto the blank invitation with no plan, no strategy, no need to know what would take shape. The symbolism to birth is apparent now as I write it but I missed it while I gave into the creative impulses.
It felt good to play.
It felt like something bold and bright needed to come out of me.
It felt good to show up and to be willing.
To be willing… to have a strong will…
I’ll have more to say about this “strong will” soon. But that intentionally needs to wait (imagine me giving you a wink here).
My own birthday is less than a week away. May has become quite the month for our family: Noelle will be turning 2, I’ll be turning 40 (new decade!) and our little guy will be part of the May club too. A birth month of celebration and a month of honoring Motherhood, as my partner put it earlier this week.
Right now, I’m sipping raspberry tea from a beloved and ironic mug. A mug that was passed around friends when we all lived in Denver in our 20’s and somehow I came to hold it in my possession as we began moving to new destinations. It states, through now well worn and washed lettering, “I’d rather be 40 than pregnant.” At that time, we were far from imagining ourselves with families and instead overly focused on our individual freedoms.
Taking a sip of my tea, I feel the truth of the mug’s message now. I would definitely rather be 40 than pregnant! I’d rather be on the other side, holding my new to the world son, with the whole family snuggled together. And… eating the layered birthday key lime pie I’m anticipating from a friend whose also baker! As I imagine it, completing this pregnancy prior to the threshold of 40 feels right and appropriately symbolic. Don’t you agree???
I again laugh at the longing to know and control. I honor what it is I want, I nod to the controlling part and I offer love for what I hope for. While also sighing with a wiser exhale that says, “And here you are, in The Wait.” And then I hear the other words I’ve often said with a humble shrug, “I’m here. I’m here simply to see what happens next…”
May I and we practice how to embrace the unknown. How to cross thresholds with an attempt at humility.
I’m currently carving out time in this waiting to consider:
What needs to be left behind to make space for what is emerging?
Who am I being asked to become now?
What parts need to be grieved so expansion can continue?
How can I simplify?
I offer these reflections to you as you may also be dancing on a threshold of transformation or you will certainly soon be. After all, the cycle is continuous.
I’d love to hear more about your thresholds or wisdoms you have from thresholds you’ve crossed. Share!!!
Much love from the north!
We saw loons on the big water yesterday and are watching the fat robins prepare their nests! Life is emerging, Light is expanding. We are waking up.
xo,
- mamabird, jess
38+ weeks pregnant and waiting…
PS: Instead of any material gifts, I invite offerings to a local cause I believe so strongly in. Friends of the Apostle Islands works to protect the sacred freshwaters and lakeshore here in Bayfield, WI, while also enhancing access and education. As we take in with heavy hearts the continued assault against National Parks and Public Lands of the current administration, work like this feel more important than ever. $900 million is projected to be cut from National Parks with ideas of selling off the lands for profit and exploitation of resources. Please pay attention. Please reach out to your local NPS and Forest Services workers. Please act to protect the places you perhaps have visited and been touched by that are now at risk.
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The Wait - a lifelong practice in patience. A period I'm in right now. This was a great read. Thanks for this!
I don’t have a right comment on this but I took a lot away from your post and I enjoyed listening to the audio version. Thank you for sharing!!