Tag: family

When I found out I was pregnant I mourned, I raged, I died a little every day. At the sight of that 6th test I was flooded with feelings of disgust, disappointment, shame. As a alchemist of rape and sexual abuse, finding out I was pregnant was the biggest trigger. I felt violated, Oh how my body has betrayed me once again. How dare he get me pregnant? What am I going to do?

Up until I found out I wasn’t with child, I was an avid day drinker and spliff indulger; I was at the time severely severed from reality, in a reckless daze, suppressed, psyching myself out.

At the sight of that 6th test I sobbed as I accepted that I had to immediately let go of my addictions; emotions primarily. For days I experienced panic attacks because I knew that with the choice to have this child came the knowing that I would soon have to face the darkest parts of my inners. Sober. I’ll be honest, I kept the pregnancy a secret from the father for a month. And in that month I barely spoke, I pushed everyone away, and shut everyone out. I spent that month envisioning my two paths. My life if I were to get an abortion, or trying to manifest an accident. I couldn’t make the choice to abort, so I waited.

I remeber pretending to cry at my first ultrasound because I felt obligated to feel something towards this new life. I had decided to go through with the pregnancy, but to not tell anyone but the father unless they asked. He was overjoyed, I felt used. I didn’t want a baby then, my mind wasn’t right, my blood probably saturated with liquor. But I wasn’t surprised, I was depressed. Having to quit cold turkey was literally the end of that hazy reality that I had been cycling in for years.
Being sober ripped me apart, terrified me. A big reason I figured why I experienced what I did.  Being sober showed me who I really was. Honestly, I felt like I was crazy cause I found myself reaching out for an identity without the suppressants. All the while pregnant.

Anyways, I thought the feeling was going to pass once the hells of my first trimester froze over; I blamed the hormones and frustrations of having to secretly vomit up my breakfast for the second time on the bus ride to work, but instead it only worse. I feel blessed to have known about prenatal depression. Simply being able to identify the experience was a tether for my sanity. I’m not ashamed anymore to admit that I wholeheartedly feared that I wasn’t going to love my baby because I didnt feel anything at first. Withdrawing, under stress and overwhelmed the first 1.5 trimesters I often sat and genuninely fantasized about disappearing shortly after my sun was born asking myself if I could do it. I compromised telling myself the baby could replace me and he would be free of all that I was. I feared I would neglect him, as my past life flashed before me. I wanted to remain selfish. I was exposed. I hid my pregnancy for 6 months, ashamed, disgusted, cold at first.

It wasn’t until I was around 4 months that I saw that I was drowning. And I was going to take my baby down with me if I didnt get my shit together.

Since I accepted the responsibility to hold this life, I accepted the responsibility of this life as well as my own.

The day I decided that I would have to guide myself to grow my love for my unborn sun. Yes, I decided. Everyday; up until he was born, I made conscious decisions to intentional love him. Every day, at first I had to. By the time third trimester ended it was more natural. I made colorful mantras that I laminated and taped on my wall. I repeated them to myself and my sun outloud every rising, or when needed. Like I said I barely spoke throughout my pregnancy and so i had to encourage myself to spark up conversations with my lil alien. It was so awkward in the beginning; as I am mediocre at small talk. That’s exactly what it was for a while. A bunch of meaningless small talk. Like literally I talked to my sun about the weather during my breaks, rubbing my belly awakwardly, faking it until I made it. Towards my 3rd trimester I had conjured a distant love for the life. Still somewhat not convinced I was pregnant, still not convinced that he was “mine”. By then I was deep in a deep dance with my shadowself and my inner child.

When I merged with the universe, and danced out this light passionately I laughed to myself as the love I used to meditate on and slaved to feel. Came unconditionally, immediately, and natural, as I look at the universe in disbelief. How could I not, I forgive myself, I didn’t know all that you was, are and was going to be. I didn’t innerstand.
11
This light has been joyfully running around the spaces of my heart for only one year. One only, and he’s touch so many hearts, ran through so many empty spaces, filling them with his everlasting light. Always on E, an honor to share him. Teaching me, opening me up, my cuddle bug, my why to my why to my why. Ive love every moment spent watch you, being present, watching you learn. I am honored. And we still dance just as much. And as you smile at me every time you awake you confirm what I know. I wasn’t living without him.
In another word I didn’t make it this far. 

I don’t know what happened to me really. I still mourn her every now and again; as up until recently the closest I got to an adrenaline rush was when my child ate his food. And although I still struggle with remembering my traumatic maidenhood in a lens of nostalgia. I wouldn’t trade waking up to this heaven on earth Akhil has guided me to curate. This year I finished shedding that skin.