learning to let go.

As my due date vastly approaches (THIS SUNDAY, OH MERCY), my belly continues to drop, my bladder continues to leak everywhere and my sleep duration becomes less and less, I’m slowly realizing the reality of going “over due”. My Safari history is completely full of searches like, “Labor cocktails”, “Can my husband strip my membranes during sex?”, “How to safely induce labor at home” and, “What foods can I eat to effectively eject my baby?”. I can honestly say I’ve never been more ready to push out a bowling ball through the opening the size of a quarter. Is pregnancy where they coined the phrase, “Camel through the eye of a needle”?

Then my mind wonders…. Am I crazy? I should be thankful I’m still pregnant, right? My belly’s gonna go from “hard bod” to saggy Mc. Tittsworth in less than 24 hours! I’m still going to wet myself because my bladder is never going to recover from the head I know is going to be the size of Donald Trumps ego. AND THE CONTRACTIONS!!! Have I completely forgotten what it’s like to give birth? What am I asking for and exactly what kind of sleep do I think I’m going to get once this baby is outside of the womb? *sigh* I’m a riot!

And just like that a wave hit me.

Holy emotions; I can’t do this. I can’t be pregnant any longer and I can’t give birth. In or out, my body can’t do this. I can’t breastfeed again, she’s not going to latch just like River didn’t and my supply is never going to be enough for her. I can’t go through postpartum again, I’m not strong enough. I can’t replace my firstborn and I can’t love another like I love her. I can’t be a good mother to more than one, I just can’t.

“Welcome to the mind game.”

“I don’t need to remind you, you were made to do this. I don’t need to remind you, you were born to be a mother. I don’t need to remind you that your support will be greater this time around. I don’t even need to remind you, you are more than capable to handle what’s headed your way… but I will because your mind isn’t ready. You need to breath and you need let go.”

I sat on my bed, stunned on the other end of the phone. I had just called my midwife to update her on my pressure and constant contractions- I hadn’t expected this. I thanked her and hung up the phone. I then proceeded to cry like a new babe in need of comfort. Shoulders shaking, shirt soaked with tears, I let it go. I just let them fall and wash away the weight of motherhood for a minute and then a minute longer. I let it all go.

Learning to let go. It’s so much easier said than done when your very being screams organization and preparation! No loose ends undone, no time to change your mind, no problem left unsolved, no detail left out. When your every fiber is wired this way, how does one simply “let go”? How does one adjust to something so unnatural?

You just do it. Why? Because your sanity requires it. Motherhood doesn’t as your permission to take over; it just does. Motherhood doesn’t allow you to adjust slowly. It doesn’t give you the opportunity to change your mind when things go south. It requires all of you, all the time, forever.

When Thought about like this, letting go was simple.

You just do it. You release control to what you can’t change and can’t prepare for. You release all preconceived notions and fears. You submit to the will of what you can’t see and you trust the same Creator that allowed you to enter into this crazy world of motherhood, is big enough to carry you through without hesitation. You allow the One who formed you in your mother’s womb to remind you daily of how to care for the one He so diligently formed in yours. You allow Him to uncover joy in all the little things as you wait patiently. You surrender to what you can’t because He can. You let go and let Him.

Be gentle with yourselves and let go.

All my love,

Mama Bithell