My “baby” is turning one this week.
And oh, what kinds of feelings these words evoke.
I’ll keep it short because my heart can’t bear to linger with all of the ‘imagine ifs’, at least not in this bittersweet post. Truly it gets enough lingering all the whole year round.
This week I am celebrating the one year anniversary, or birthing so to speak, of Mothering Your Heart. If I could write all of this with very small letters it would feel appropriate. Celebrating is not my word of choice. Perhaps honouring would be more fitting, honouring something-that-I-wish-had-never-needed-to-be-created-but-here-we-are.
I simply wish there was no need.
No need for you to be reading this, no need for me to be writing this. If only each of us could have experienced our love without its now frequent companion, grief. Grief and Love. Love and Grief. If only all of the babies-who-are-not-in-our-arms could be at the centre of real-life celebrating, puddle splashing joy, every moment of every day.
And maybe they are, only it is a different kind of celebrating.
Maybe this honouring, this celebration of the birthing of this more-present-on-earth-than-my-actual-babies “baby” is actually an honouring and a celebrating of just that. Maybe this collective love that has brought us here together, this love for our children and the dreams we have of holding our children are also being celebrated today.
Maybe we can acknowledge here, together, the power of this incredible love, love multiplied by each and every one of us, by all of us around the world who know and feel it, this love-is-grief-is-love, all of us who might be beginning to believe deep down, some days when we are feeling some new version of strength, that in fact the grief that so often brings us to our knees is nothing in the face of this fierce, precious and overwhelming love.
We may be celebrating – just a little – that we can do this, that we can keep going, in spite of this grief, because of this love.
Happy Birthday “Baby”