The Un-Doing

photo credit Jenn Johnson

A year ago, I found myself 41 weeks pregnant, in pre labor for 3 weeks, exhausted, and trying to control every part of my life…   So the four of us Kleins headed to my parents condo at Turtle Bay. I took a shot of gin, we went to Lei Leis for dinner, had a huge dinner and some wine. And.Let.Go. I went to bed relaxed and sure enough woke up around midnight with “real” contractions. Baby Conner was ready to come out. My body felt my mind relax and the games begun. Hours later, Conner was born in our house at 5:33 AM. An hour later Gavin came out to the living room and met his little brother. 10 minutes later, Deia woke up and got to meet her little brother. It all happened with Diving timing and it was perfect. Although it wasn’t how I had planned it. Spirit knew when and where and it all unfolded perfectly. So even my process of letting go and surrendering was an undoing yet perfectly timed. It’s that reminder that we are guided and protected and we need to trust in every part of the process. It’s a daily ebb and flow of trust and struggle for me. If I fear or doubt, I notice my body start to tense and fear sets in. If I can find trust and get myself grounded in the moments that cause me tension, I feel peace.  In my reflection of the last year (and nine months in utero) of Conner’s life, I find the words from Courtney E. Martin very appropriate. In the creating and nurturing and guiding of this baby, I feel my old self being peeled away. Layer after layer of my “old” ways. Ways of doing things, ways of being, ways of parenting, ways of thinking…. all of it being released. Some parts of the shedding was welcomed, and some has been painful. Some I haven’t even noticed during the process, and some I mourn every moment I’m changing. Here’s what Courtney writes in her article The Breaking and the Blessing of Motherhood.

“My psychic, physical, spiritual boundaries got obliterated, and now that I’ve mostly reconstituted myself, I’ve made a sort of amends with the obliteration. I mourn the old life… what I would give to wake up at 10 am on a Saturday and wander to some brunch spot in my neighborhood in a cute boy’s flannel. On occasion, I even resent the intrusion (this often happens when she won’t even let me pee alone or when I feel inspired to write and there’s just no logistical way it’s going to happen).But one of the gifts of obliteration is that I just don’t hold on as tightly to my own agenda. I don’t measure as many of my days by to-do lists. Productivity and social status have lost their glean almost entirely. I’m humbled. I just to want to express some small part of who I am in the world, to love people well, to spend time with those who don’t have time for any other bullshit. So motherhood narrowed me, but it’s also focused me. It’s made me as clear as I’ve ever been about what matters — and what doesn’t. I spend so many more of my moments on what does. I let go. I let go. I let go.

Some days, I feel stronger and wiser than I’ve ever been. Some days, I feel like I’m stretched so thin I might break. But, because I’m so attached to her, I’m less attached to everything else — including my own ego, my own singular capability even. When I consider the possibility of breaking, I pretty quickly convince myself that there are good people all around who will help me glue myself back together should that be necessary.

Breaking apart, in general, seems less scary. I’ve learned it’s the beginning of permanent transformation. I did it two years ago to the day and it’s led to the most extraordinary blessing I’ve ever known.”

For me, it was a little different because I had 6 years of raising kids to supposedly get me ready for my third child. And it did prepare me for a lot. But there has still been so much that has been undone. And for that I am grateful. Conner’s arrival has brought me such vulnerability, acceptance, and release of control. He has brought joy joy and more JOY to our whole family. Just today, Spencer, the kids and I were all full on belly laughing at him. When you find your family of five laughing uncontrollably at the baby on the floor, you can’t help but pause and look around and think about how this baby was once considered an “accident.”

No, Conner… no. You are nothing less than a gift from God and Spirit and the Heavens. You have brought us SUCH happiness. You have come into all of our lives and you scatter joy and silliness and sweet love and peace into our days and hearts and minds. Seeing the love that Deia and Gavin have for you is more than we could have ever dreamt up. Feeling the bond that you and your dad are already connected by is very primal… it’s as if you share the same soul. When he holds you and plays with you, you two become one.

And for me, well, I can honestly say that I have enjoyed the past year with you more than I ever thought was possible. I spent so many days just laying with you and looking at you. I played with you so much. I didn’t stress about you when you had a tummy ache because I ate garlic. I didn’t worry when you had your first fever. I didn’t freak out when you ate peanut butter at 6 months. I let you sleep in your crib when you were a month old. I let you cry. I did some sleep training with you. (And you are a GREAT sleeper for the most part!!). I gave your cheerios as a finger food. (a few years ago there’s no way I would have done that). I feel so relaxed this third time around as a mom. And it feels good. I am just so darn grateful you made it through with a .001 chance. And in honor of your Padia roots… “Hooray for Conner, Hooray at last, Hooray for Conner, he’s the horses ass!”