My Path to You
Reclaiming my power after a traumatic birth in a poem to my son
When you were born, I felt like a failure.
I walked the path that millions of women had walked before, and instead of delivering a healthy baby and enjoying the long awaited golden hour like so many, I watched with dread as you were resuscitated and intubated before my eyes.
I did not know if you would survive. And in that moment, the grandiosity of birthing a human into the world disappeared along with you as you were whisked away to the intensive care unit.
I was left, no longer pregnant, yet not quite yet a mom. I was left in an apocalyptic in-between, in which I felt completely empty, enormously scared, and unable to comprehend what was happening — this was never an option I had considered for myself.
I let this experience strip away my confidence and I felt defeated by what was supposed to be one of the most magical moments of my life. I felt unable, less than.
What could I have done differently? I ran through all the options and “if only’s.”
I retreated into myself, searching for anything that could convince me that it was not my fault and remind me of my inner power, but I found nothing, and let myself retreat even further.
In the most recent module of a personal development course I am taking with Kat River, on a moody rainy night, we dove into limiting beliefs. Mine poured out:
lack of confidence
unsure
confused
all alone
likely to fail
probably impossible
unfamiliar with who I need to be to get where I want to go
“Imagine holding up those beliefs. Imagine those beliefs for yourself forever. Imagine those beliefs for your children.” she said.
That’s when my body had a visceral reaction to the injustice it was holding against itself.
During the following breath work session, I called back my power and it arrived in a big way. I was able to rewrite my birth story, seeing myself as the protagonist and hero that I was the whole time.
Below is my story in a poem to my son.
My wish for this story is to inspire any woman who experienced a traumatic birth to reclaim her power and rewrite her narrative — and remember, you were the hero all along.
My Path to You
As the day came nearer,
a darkness grew.
Strange, I thought.
Birth was supposed to be
magic,
and healing,
and transformative,
and romantic,
and I expected to experience
all of these
on my path to birthing you.
Despite all this,
as the day came nearer,
darkness continually grew.
Though not at ease,
I felt prepared
for the path of birthing you.
I was raw, vulnerable, and accepting,
as I felt the storm start to brew.
The day finally came
and I started my journey.
It was the same path
as millions of others.
As we walked together,
the magic grew.
We felt our power,
and the smell of roses
penetrated the air
that was fresh as dew.
We waded together
through dark forests,
forced to lay down our deepest fears
to make it through.
We cried as our bones shifted,
and we became a person anew,
creating a new path through the darkness
that would finally reunite us with you.
As we reached our human limits,
exhausted, trembling,
inconsolable, unsubdued,
we heard the long awaited message,
you’re almost there — just push through.
That’s when we saw the portal,
the one where we would finally
unite with you.
All the pain — it was worth it,
as the end of the path was now in view.
Together we approached the entrance,
giddy, empowered,
energy anew.
And just as it was my time to enter,
the dreaded words,
“This portal is not for you.”
“What do you mean?
I don’t understand -
This is the birth portal,
There can’t be two.”
“Oh, but there is,”
the portal keeper replied.
“There is a path less taken -
and that’s where your son waits for you.”
“But I must warn you,
as I’m sure you can see,
your path is far more perilous -
a safe journey I cannot guarantee.”
With energy fading,
and dread filling my soul,
I peered nervously at the path ahead,
barely visible around the knoll.
There in the distance,
I saw you waiting,
innocent, trusting, yet ready to move.
As I saw your face, there was no hesitating,
this was, indeed, my path to you.
This path was treacherous and steep,
few others had gone before.
But it was because of me,
not in spite of me,
that we made it through at all.
With my last, other-wordly
ounce of energy,
granted to me by ancestors from the other side,
I reached the depths of the final ravine,
as I roared you into life.
No, we did not arrive unscathed,
as we waded through bristles,
monsters, and fire.
But now, every time I gaze
at your angelic face,
I am reminded -
it is not only you
who is pure magic,
but against all odds,
so am I.
