Meditating With My Unborn Child

How can a day as beautiful as this, bring you to whisper to me that it’s time for a cry? A cry that is dangerous if bottled, but life changing if released. A cry that today I won’t have to do alone, if I invite you in.

Your little voice spoke to me today as I saw children run around in their tiny mittens, laughing with so much joy. You spoke to me as I saw a proud woman across the street steady with her phone documenting her daughter learning how to ride her bike with no training wheels. You spoke a little louder when that same child fell and the mother rushed over to help, as the daughter quickly got up and restarted again while refusing help. I heard you when I glanced at my phone to see if the Queen who will be your mother texted me, and again when I looked at her latest selfie in awe of what we’ve become. But, I heard you the loudest when I briefly thought of your grandfather that I’ve missed every day since his death over 20 years ago.

Wait...

Either I’m losing my mind, or my own unborn child is telling ME it’s time for “The Talk.” The talk where I:

Sit on my yoga mat...

Cross my legs...

Find my “Meditation With My Unborn Child” playlist...

Close my eyes...

And I press PLAY...

“Born to Give” by WILLOW begins and I can’t sit still. It’s that feeling when you know you’re going to let loose the storm, but you don’t know what exact words will do it.

“Love undying...”

Those are the ones.

Only because these are words that I have to speak to you and for you, but I can’t say them until I completely feel the same about my father. Do I truly believe that my father’s love didn’t vanish when he did? I have to. I have to gain the courage and strength to tell you that, I will be here for as long as I possibly can. But Child, it is important that you outlive me. I will work, will learn, will teach, will laugh, will cry, will stand, and will fall all that I need to make sure you have me every second I am in your presence. But Child, it is important that you carry on even if I can’t carry on with you anymore. My love for you will never die, even after my body leaves this place.

We take a breath...

Now, “Hold Me...”

Perfect moment for this song to play.

I couldn’t get through that message without covering my face in tears. And now, I just need to be held. My meditation posture moves from palms up on my knees to literally hugging myself. I envision holding you like I’m embracing the entire world for the first time. I can see me stare at your mother, and just cry more. Hoping that no matter how much you grow, you always know that we are here to hold you. If you’re crying, can’t sleep, need love, need family. I will hold you. This is a world full of brokenness, and I pray that you never hate me for begging you to be in a place you never asked to be. There’s so much more than pain here. A message that I also needed to say to myself.

Meditation is powerful because it brings up questions and thoughts that were buried deep, and you didn’t know would arise.

I felt my need to talk to you about your grandfather, and about always being here to hold you whenever I can. But, as “Lovin’ Me” by Kid Cudi fills the room, I had no idea that I still need to work on loving me. I need to make sure that I am not asking for your presence to fill a whole in my heart that even your love can’t cover up. I need to make sure that my mind and soul is prepared to make mistakes I learn from, to not always be your favorite, and to know that one day I may need you more than you need me. I need to be able to not push my pain, my opinions, my experiences onto you. I need to love me before I am fully ready to love you.

Another breath...

30 minutes in…

Your presence fades…

A little more at ease...

And “Only Synth In Church” reminds me to take a really deep breath...

Today is not any less of a beautiful day because I cried. It’s filled with even more love, because I got to spend time with my unborn child. And also, I spent some much needed time with myself...