Anticipation

We are waiting. Waiting with our breaths caught in our throats. All of us, waiting in our own ways. I lie here, in a stranger's home, pulled into the fetal position, core cramping, fire spreading, shedding, womb empty. You, little one, my soul sister,⁣⁣ you are lying in your bed, a mere four minutes away from me in physical distance⁣⁣ but a galaxy away in experience,⁣⁣ caught in the embrace of your birthing pains, womb full.⁣⁣ Holding within you a new life,⁣⁣ a new, sacred spirit, a new little one. He or she too is waiting. Waiting to be birthed into this different world, this life earth-side. Waiting to be cradled in the arms that belong to the loving voices that⁣ have been heard from afar, the voices of Mother, Father, and Brother. In my mind's eye, I see your tears, I feel the depth of your emotion. So complex, so vast, so...⁣⁣ almost ancient, a continuation of all⁣⁣ mothers that birthed new life before you,⁣⁣ adding to that collective experience, that universal story of mother, pain, release, child. I am nervous. What you are moving through is monumental. It's hard to see my own baby sister in pain. It's hard to imagine the ways in which you will be stretched and ripped apart, a miraculous canal for the miracle of life. We are being called to trust. We are feeling our fragility and vulnerability for we are not in control. These rhythms and cycles of life were designed long ago and we are here to do nothing but surrender to them and witness their unfolding. All we can do is breathe, trust, and remain rooted in our bonds of love for you. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣

And so, we wait. We wait and love.