Hello dear ones,
Is there a sight happier than a freshly rained upon green field studded with fuzzy yellow dandelions? They dazzle like a spring smattering of stars. Soon, they’ll turn into fluffy, soft, grey wishes–a transition I appreciate.
I am writing to you from where I am tonight, which is: tired. I have spilled Dr. Pepper on my chest three times in the past two hours. From the same glass of Dr. Pepper, mind you. I took a pregnancy-safe medicine to help me sleep last night without realizing that instead of seven hours, my body would require ten. I didn’t get ten hours of sleep, as Matt & I attended a birthing class at the hospital where I’ll deliver our baby in just 7 weeks. Through the window of the conference room, we could see a dogwood tree in full bloom with lush baby pink blossoms.
Pregnancy has been a time where I am again coming to terms with how tender-hearted I am. Sometimes, I feel desperately tender-hearted. I glanced over at Matt’s notebook during our class today & saw his notes to download an app to time my contractions & I very nearly burst into tears on the spot. Happy tears of gratitude that I have a partner who loves me & our baby & wants to be so involved.
Sometimes, I wonder who I might be if I weren’t so achingly sensitive. I see a lot of myself in my niece Eliza, who, like her mama & me, can turn to tears in a matter of seconds. I try to always give her loving, safe arms to fall into when she’s overcome with emotion. I’m trying to teach her some soothing bilateral stimulation techniques, like giving herself a hug & rubbing her arms as she does so. Apparently, our nervous systems really like bilateral stimulation, as it can engage both hemispheres of the brain & help balance our response to stressful situations or painful memories.
The thing about feeling bigly is that you can’t turn it off. Sometimes, it is so wonderful: to be overcome by a song or bright yellow dandies on a kelly-green lawn. Last weekend, my friend kissed my belly & I could have melted in a puddle of love. How sweet it is to be overcome by the beauty of the world.
Then, there’s what feels like the dark side. People describe feeling numb sometimes. I wonder–what the heck is that like? Could I take my full heart out of my chest, Frida Kahlo style, & set it on the nightstand for a day? Even for a few hours?
Without shame, I am open to sharing about my clinical depression. I know medicine helps me function. Medicine, therapy, mindfulness, & art-making are some of the tools that help cut the acidity of my sensitivity when it feels like too much. Somedays might just be a wash & that’s okay.
My pregnancy hormones are like a tap that opens the pipes & once tears begin to fall, the pipes stay open for a while. I am, albeit slowly & sometimes uncomfortably, trying to receive this as a gift. A gift of opening. Like in spring, when in the act of opening, birth, & renewal, our spirits are recharged with the fullness of blossoms. We orient ourselves in time by each wave of blossoms: crocuses & daffodils, redbuds & magnolias, then dogwoods, next tulips.
How we need this blessing of opening. After stems drink in heavy rainwater, petals unfurl & drink in the warm sun.
My dear friend is soon embarking on a silent meditation retreat. We were talking about some very understandable trepidation she’s feeling as she prepares to sit with her thoughts, the whole lot of them. In observing Buddhist meditation practices, my understanding is that compassion can be a focal point we can continually return to.
I’m going to try to challenge myself to return to compassion for the person who most deserves it from me. If I can offer compassion to this person, everyone around me benefits. If I can offer compassion to this person, even if nothing is solved or perfect, I can return to a space of gentleness & harm reduction. That person is me.
I deserve to feel safe in my sensitivity: to embrace the elegance, courage, & softness of carrying an open heart in this world. Someday, I’ll help my child cultivate that same courage. He deserves it. You deserve it, too.
Until next week — thank you for reading,
Annie
Soundtrack:
“Pink Moon” by Nick Drake. This weekend has seen April’s moon reach her fullness. This moon is called the Pink Moon! She is the smallest full moon of the year, but mighty in her task of overseeing the powerful tides of spring.
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