This past weekend I participated in a workshop. This wasn't a professional workshop like the one I wrote about here. It was of a personal interest of mine.
I am going through a transition, as are many of my friends. Things are shifting in my life and I am trying to stay positive and open to the journey. It is not always easy. The workshop happened to be on the topic of stories we tell ourselves and what we can learn from them. I wasn't sure what to expect, but knew it would be therapeutic.
We started by writing about our favorite scar. That's right. My favorite scar. Think about that for a moment. The scar that hurt us and changed us and helped us learn something. I debated a couple of scars that I have - the one from the skateboarding accident weeks after I got my first pair of glasses and the doctors in the ER were sure that someone had beat me. To this day we can't quite figure out how I was so bruised or how the glasses got so scratched that the lenses had to be replaced. Note to self - don't let PJ lie face down on a skateboard with her head toward the flipped up edge while riding across bumpy sidewalks. Or the time I fell down the flight of stairs wearing 3 inch heels on my way to opening night. I spent the next year repeating the mantra, "Respect the stairs" before taking a step down. This is probably why I still carry PJ down the 3 flights of stairs every day.
I landed on my experience giving birth. Not surprising. How could I not? I was a bit self conscious bringing up the mom card in a room full of creative people who, when asked what made them feel alive stated things like singing, acting, and dancing. I know that those things make me feel alive too. So does seeing the world through PJ's eyes. So I left out a few details and just went for the major points. I was hurt badly (I almost bled out), I woke up and knew I had to heal myself, and I am so much stronger than I ever realized. When asked how that changed me, I also talked about my desire to share my story, as well as having other moms join me and share their stories, through this blog.
A couple of interesting things happened as I was sharing my story and in the few days since.
First, I met someone else who had a very similar birth experience. I had never met someone who had a retained placenta. Someone who could relate to the feeling of euphoria of having given birth, only to have to face the fact that she could have died. We connected in a way that I could never have imagined. Right there in that room. I was in the place I was supposed to be. I was open and vulnerable about my scar and found someone else who was too. Synchronicity.
Then, I was reminded why I started this blog in the first place. I was surrounded by wonderful, knowledgable women through out my pregnancy and first year as a mom. I also had a very large network of moms via Facebook. That group was my saving grace during middle of the night feedings and endless pumping sessions. There were women all over the world contributing by asking questions and giving advice. They had a wealth of experiences to draw upon and share their successes and failures. I remember our Lamaze teacher saying, "If you want 99 opinions on how to parent, ask 99 parents."
This group was very special to me until recently. Perhaps it is just a function of size, perhaps it is that there are moms who are in a different place from where I am. Not just physically, but emotionally too. In any case, it does not seem to be the safe and supportive place it once was. And as I have made slight changes to my Facebook account, unsubscribing from notifications, unfollowing the group unless it is a friend of mine who is posting, the group feels less a part of me. And as friends have left the group, I too feel the urge to leave and move on.
As I was contemplating that decision, I also was struck by the thought "this is why you started the blog to begin with." I started this blog as a way to share my stories. To give other moms perspective about the journey of motherhood. To have moms write and share and be open. To tell their stories. To create a community where moms could read about alternative ways to approach this parenting gig. To help us all feel less alone.
I am not exactly sure of the point of this post. I AM more sure that I am where I need to be right now. That this journey I am on, with all its uncomfortable transitions, is woven together with many other people's journeys. That I am doing the best I can. That I am enough. That if one person reads this post and feels less lonely in the world, I have helped to make this world a nicer place to be.
That is the story I am telling myself today.
