to witness my heart outside of my body
with stubby legs and
tiny fingers reaching
I will cry when you cry
and laugh when you laugh
but what prepares a soul
to see their heart in
their hands?
The call of motherhood — I never knew when it would knock.
I remember the morning vividly when the sweet call came, all at once, everything was different. There’s nothing I could have done to prepare, nothing could have readied me to learn that in a few short (long) months, I would witness my heart outside of my body.
There is a divine dance that happens in these nine months. The call comes and you begin to make ready for motherhood. Full of doubts, dreams, and the idea that you’ve never met yourself yet. In these nine months, I’m laying to rest the woman I was to prepare for the woman I’m becoming. Bringing with me lessons learned.
Growing up, I didn't think much of becoming a mother one day. I felt I could never wrap my head around so much responsibility, or the idea of caring for a tiny human. When the day came, and I was called, it felt far more natural than I could have imagined. My soul leapt with joy — An excitement came up from inside of me that I had never felt before. I immediately started dreaming of who they are, who they would become.
I was instantly filled with the idea that I hadn’t met one of my favorite people yet. That there is a human, coming into my life, that would teach me how to love all over again.
These days, I have fallen inward. Praying, thinking, dwelling on what’s to come. What I need to prepare — Mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Honoring that my time of freedom and self-seeking is coming to a close. Only to step into a time of stewarding and divine responsibility for an eternal creation. Some days, I’m full of doubt and fear that the job description is way over my head. Other days, I find myself ready as ever —Born for this.
There is something so precious in the nine months. The perfect amount of time to wrestle with yourself, make peace, clean out closets, grow in excitement, learn from women before you. The nine months feel like a nine-month-long prayer, a deep refinement. A journey in themselves, each month revealing something new, while bringing me closer and preparing me to meeting my heart outside of my body.
I find myself standing in their soon-to-be nursery, taking in the room and how different it will be in the months to come. I close my eyes and do my best to picture them — Knowing I’ll never do them justice. But it’s fun to dream.
I drink my nettle, oat straw, and alfalfa tea from my midwife (It tastes like grass, yes.) and study my husband’s face wondering if they will look just like him. I pray silently they will have his dimples, his love for people, and his joy.
For the past four months and some change, my days have been riddled with nausea and aches I didn’t know my body was capable of feeling. I’ve gotten to know the inside of my toilet bowl well. Despite the lack of joy in throwing up, it never goes past me without thinking of how many women would love to be nauseous, studying the inside of their toilet bowl, too. And I never take it for granted. I think of the women before me, who felt the same as I. And I often wonder how many other women, around the world, are hugging their toilet bowl at the same time as me. And it always makes me feel less alone in those quite literal, gut-wrenching moments.
I have been cherishing and reveling in my husband’s presence. Mourning the time of just the two of us is coming to a close — All while looking ahead of how our best days are just around the corner. Knowing when we met this tiny human, we will wonder where on Earth they have been all our lives. And how this tiny human will make us love each other even more. Watching one another fall into our new roles with admiration and love towards one another.
I am honored to be called to motherhood. To make ready for such a thing. This time of waiting and transition feels more sacred than anything I’ve ever felt. Each day, walking into unknown territroy and being called to more. Rearranging our house and tidying up to make space for this human. Making myself ready to meet my heart outside of my body.
What a beautiful thing.
— Jak