Hold On For Dear Life or Jump?

Pregnancy sucks. Sorry for the lack of sunshiny teddy bear visions, but it does. I am not a fan. The following post is ostensibly about my trepidation over pregnancy because that happens to be the ordeal I am currently facing, but, more than that, it’s about the way we fight the challenges and changes in our bodies and lives… or not. Do we hold on for dear life or jump?

I have spent my entire adult life clinging to my independence and loathing the thought of pregnancy, but seven months ago, faced with a loving husband who would be broken-hearted if he never had the chance to be a Dad, I held my breath and made the choice to get knocked up. I jumped. It could be an adventure, right? I knew that once the deed was done, I would have no option but to see it through and hoped that, once impregnated, the prospect of motherhood might become less terrifying. No such luck.

Now, eight weeks out from my due date, the changes that are coming to my body, my life, and my household ache with palpable inevitability. The physical changes are inescapable, but it turns out that I do have a choice. I can claw and scratch to stay at the cliff’s edge where I easily understand my world, mourning the loss of my old life… childless, freewheeling, and exceedingly happy with the status quo. Or I can release the breath I began holding seven months ago and allow the changes to wash over me like a wave. As the days tick by, I am increasingly aware that holding on for dear life will bring me nothing but suffering.

My growing belly tells me that my body is going to make this transition whether I like it or not. My body is taking the lead, showing me the way forward as usual. “Strength Outside In” is my mantra after all. The body and external behavior patterns are the tangible stuff of life. They are the things that have always moved me forward when my mind just can’t seem to shake itself loose.

At this point, the belly is big, and the baby boy is kicking. I need to release him and myself. I have to let this kid out, get out of his way, and allow myself to become what I need to be in order to help him survive and grow. I am at a loss to know who this upcoming mother-person will be, but I do know that my heart and mind will follow the changes in my external life if I can allow them the space to swell and contract with the ebb and flow of new motherhood. The glimmers of excitement are already beginning to arise, and the more I loosen my grip, the more they show themselves.

As I was reminded by a Pete Seeger documentary on PBS the other day (yes, I’m a nerd), “To everything, turn, turn, turn; there is a season, turn, turn, turn.” I have no doubt that this particular season is going to rip me apart… physically, emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually. But I do get to choose how to respond, and I am choosing wholeheartedly to take the plunge, ride the wave, and see what becomes of me when I wash up on shore in the aftermath. Whatever happens, I have no doubt that I will be stronger for having taken the leap, overcome one of the greatest fears of my life, and welcomed into the world a little guy who, I'm sure, has a lot to teach me.

What cliff’s edge are you stuck on? Are you ready to jump? Consider catching a wave, and see where you land.