My belly grows bigger by the day. Nursing my 17 month old on my lap has officially become uncomfortable most of the time. The weeks rush forward and my new baby will be born not quite a month after Christmas.
Preparation for this second baby is different from last time. A first baby is a luxury of endless hours devoted to daydreaming, rubbing your belly and connecting with your unborn. I’m finding this second pregnancy occupied with the care of my first, a chatty little toddler now but still very much in need of mummy for most of the day, and very much my focus.
Experience is both a blessing and a curse. Leading up to Evie’s birth I was positive, informed and confident. Leading up to this one I’ve been hopeful, brave, but admittedly, terrified. Choosing not to focus on the terror I’ve been ignoring it. I’ve collected a couple of resources to help ‘psych myself up’ for the impending labour and birth but have yet to read them. There’s a few gremlins hanging out from my last labour experience that I’d rather not think about.
Last week in my women circle* I was introduced to the energy of Pachamama, an ancient Andean fertility Goddess who presides over planting, harvests, mountains and causes Earthquakes when she’s pissed. A Goddess I was unfamiliar with, but like Gaia, with Earth Mother as her description, I got the vibe.
I lay down and was led through a meditation, an invocation of Pachamama, Mother Earth. With an ethereal steel drumbeat in the background, random thoughts flitted through my mind. After a time I felt the Earth Mother in me. I saw myself in the forest, rock walls and greenery and trees surround. I was giving birth, trusting my body, trusting the process. I had this. I knew exactly what to do. And I was not alone. Bearing down, I had the support of millions of women before me who had laboured. They were all there standing behind Pachamama, who was holding my hand. She was squatting down next to me as I squatted, helping me deliver my child. This was the mothers path: Holding the beautiful, breathing, heart-beating child in my arms. The one that I had birthed.
Afterwards, once the drumming had subsided and we returned back to the present, I was a new woman. I had courage in my heart. Real courage, confidence and honour for my body. This was going to be ok. I could do this, of course I could birth this child. My perception had changed to see that I could go into this labour with trust in my heart. I so desperately needed that trust. In connecting to my inner Mother Earth I’ve witnessed trust in my body and the process of childbirth. And if there’s any trouble I have a frekking private obstetrician and the wonderful midwives at Murdoch SJOG to help me out. And drugs. I have the option of drugs IF I need them. Most importantly though, I have the Earth Mother, inside of me, as we all do, and she’s all over it. Thank Goddess I found her.
Artwork Pachamamita by Loreto Contreras Herrera