The last week has felt raw, I've been in a kind of grief and exploration simultaneously. Like some vagabond gypsy, embarking on taking in the wonderment of golden horizons, but still crunching last years fallen leafs underneath my feet -as I walk away from the comforts of familiarity. It's like I'm between here and there and I'm not sure what to pack.

What the hell am I talking about? (That question surfaces a lot lately.)

Okay- let me explain:

I got baggage. Super Cutes. But heavy. And heavy comes with a hefty price tag. Airlines, camels (since I'm feeling vagabondish), trains, horses, my own arms... they give a limit, a weight limit on my baggage. I'm referring to the shit I carry around with me, day in and day out. Beliefs, stories, truths, memories, fears, lies....

I realized early on in this pregnancy journey, I needed some help packing. So after finding a midwife, the first thing I did was find a therapist specializing in maternity. She's like my travel agent, and I should have had one for every journey of my life! The things we take with us on the journey, what we make room for-says a lot about where we are going.

After last weeks session, my bags got a little lighter- we dug out a few things (fears + lies) I could leave behind. But digging, is WORK and leaving anything behind HURTS the ego. It takes courage to trust that you will find what you need, without hauling the old with you. It brings opportunity for new ideas, strengths and relationships. And sometimes new is just scary and uncomfortable.

Maybe that's where the grief is coming from- in the leaving behind, the loss of something once close to me, fears I had created that kept me safe...I thought.

I don't think it's entirely just me, it feels like there's something in the air. Whether friends close to me, or social media, politics, or seasons- I feel an energetic tug of war, between embracing change and staying put. It's tiring all this stretching, growing and releasing. In the interim, my body has reminded my mind that it's important to rest. To give the new space we create a feeling of belonging. To integrate. To avoid immediately FILLING the baggage, but to just enjoy the weightlessness.

So as the first autumn leafs lazily cascade down to the ground, and the sun simultaneously beats into your skull, there is something to be said for the beauty of the in-between. The vulnerability of the unknown, of what horizon lay ahead.

For those with curiosity and time...the unpacking of my baggage lies just beyond this awkward photo of me in Camel pose. Vagabonds and camels. Get this girl a nap.

So I mentioned my travel agent, and the following is how she helped me unravel the twisted ways we hold on to things, from so long ago...

While driving to my visit with her last week, I was reflecting on how doubt was surfacing in my body's ability to birth a baby naturally. I was feeling a lot of anxiety around it. Currently, I have an incredible midwife, with hospital privileges. So the plan is to wait until active labor and then transfer to the hospital for delivery. The reality is I would really like to just have a home birth. But, while chances are low, there are risks of complications with a VBAC. So even though I really despise hospitals during the writing of this, (hope to shift that), at this point I feel instinctually safer at one.

So last week a few things came up for me as my "truths". Fears. Raw fearful creations of truth in my mind, that have been holding me back from believing in myself. Old tattered, cozy sweaters that my therapist helped me yank out of the baggage during the summer heat. Unnecessary items.

My first "truth"-

Hospitals are for sick people, and sick people are weak.

The moment I crossed the threshold of the sliding glass doors during my labor with Atlas, A wave of quesy apathy washed over me. It was like I had left my home (a place of safety and strength) and arrived at the gates of hell. I felt like giving up. The complications that led to my C-section may have been inevitable, (or were they?) but I'm sure my feelings of apathy and fear were manageable.

This "truth" of mine, goes back to about the time I was 3. I found myself at the threshold of sliding glass doors on and off throughout my childhood. What I saw when I stepped over that hospital threshold was always my mother, with eyes I could not recognize. My best friend, that I adored, but she was missing. The roles shifted for me a lot throughout childhood, as I became caretaker while she was in the hospital, I felt abandoned and angrily concluded- Hospitals are for sick people, and sick people are weak.

The reality is, as I am learning, is that getting support or treatment for any physical sickness or chemical imbalance is not weakness. It takes a lot of strength to survive, to overcome, to heal and we all have different needs for that at one point or another.

So, to overcome this fear, to shift this "truth", I am scheduling a hospital tour soon. Doing a lot of work around what I want my new feelings of a hospital to be, for the next time I walk over the threshold.

A sanctuary of nurturing where baby girl and I can harness all our energy to a safe and natural delivery.

You know that place for comments below this blog entry....(Any other positive hospital affirmations would be greatly appreciated, as this is fresh territory for me.)

My Second "truth"-

I will be abandoned.

See how it is when your first "truth", creates your second "truth" and they hold hands and skip down the path together?

Labor is unlike anything earth side. I was fortunate to experience unmedicated labor at home for about 13 hours. Riding the waves, and surfing through this momentum of bodily force. I really enjoyed that part, being centered with myself. You have no relative concept of time or place, it's just you and this baby surging hormones to one another. Because of this vulnerable state, emotional and physical support is so vital to a mother opening up to this process. You don't think to do things, you can't quite communicate what you need, so the people that are surrounding you are the ones to fill your water, dim the lights or tune the music. Last time around, I didn't hire a doula. The emotional rock, the lighthouse on the horizon in the stormy seas. I needed that support.

So, to overcome that fear of abandonment, to shift that "truth", finding a doula is on my to-do for the weeks ahead. (Also, taking recommendations for any support/modalities that have helped you through a birth or just a really confronting time.)

What I really like about these sessions, is not only pinpointing where the fear, or false concept is coming from...removing it. But also, actively choosing how I can replace it with something healthy and positive. How I can fill the space with something that will serve me on this journey.

Baggage-Check