The decision to become a single mama.
I didn’t plan this journey of mamahood intending to be a single mama, but three months into my pregnancy I was crushed with the reality that my partner was unable to support me in this huge transformation. I made the choice to leave. I made the choice to choose the unknown because it felt safer than staying in my current situation.
Did I know this was how my story would unfold when we were consciously conceiving this child? Perhaps I did, deep in the quiet recesses of my heart. A voice not quite loud enough for me to consciously acknowledge. The desire to be a mama dominating the softer ones.
But by three months the voice was quite loud. Begging for me to listen. Begging me to be stronger than staying. Letting me know I/we would be ok if we left. And so I did, and I felt my community catch me like the net below a high flying trapeze artist. I felt the hearts of dear ones helping me rewrite this story that could be spun into such tragedy. Determination and deep faith would not allow me to sink into a story of victimhood and suffering. Step by step, I wrote a new story.
"Determination and deep faith would not allow me to sink into a story of victimhood and suffering. Step by step, I wrote a new story."
I continue to write this new story but there are days, like today, that my heart aches for that person to be by my side sharing in this intimate wonder of new life. Someone who holds me as I hold my baby. Someone who is handling the outer life needs like finances and bills and meals and laundry. Someone who says ‘I’ve got you, so you can have her’.
I heard a woman say on Father’s Day that sometimes the best fathers are the single mothers. I feel my strength in that statement. I feel my capacity to offer stability and presence. I feel my gratitude for all my hours on the cushion cultivating this steadfast beingness. And today, I simultaneously feel the one in me that wants to crumble. That wants to scream and rage and blame the masculine for abandoning me in my most feminine moment. The one in me who’s so heartbroken she doesn’t know if she’ll ever trust again.
And then I turn back to this innocence resting on my body. Her heart beating against mine. Her chest rising and falling with each cycle of breath. Now is not the time to rage, now is not the time to blame. Now is the time. It’s just NOW. And so I return to my practice of lovingly presencing the arising moment. The love I feel for Anaiya, I also offer to the heartbroken parts inside me.
"Feel it all, that’s where the bliss arises from"
I acknowledge the layers of grief and pain that still swirl inside my heart. The same heart that is experiencing new levels of love and bliss. The two intimately coexisting in this vast heart cavern. As my wise midwife told me when Anaiya was born, ‘feel it all, that’s where the bliss arises from’. And so I don’t turn away from these weighted feelings. I don’t push or cast them aside. I feel my pain, I acknowledge the levels of isolation I’ve never felt before. And I keep allowing my capacity to be with it all to teach me even more about this paradox in my heart.
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