The grief of growing (up?)

Self processes right now. Maybe for you too

The Grief of growing (up?)

Hey Beautiful people, 

This is a free publication for everyone.

Many of you know we’ve been in a bit of a dark night of the soul as a family this last week. 

Aligning closely with winter solstice. 

Yesterday we put on a song and danced in the kitchen and felt the waves of celebratory energy wash over us. 

A feeling of we made it. We are out the other side. Sorta, just. 

But for a whole week before then, We were in a mild car accident and then immediately we were taking turns being bed ridden, caring for Rafi who was fevering alongside us. Monitoring his temp, doing our best to get fluids into him. 

A trip to the ER as he began throwing up blood.

Monitoring my temp being pregnant, and keeping my fluids up. 

We had the sorest bodies. Honestly, I’d rather give birth than be that uncomfortable and sore in a 31 week pregnant body for 5 days again. 

Headaches, fevers, but mostly the fatigue. Not being able to stand for more than 15 seconds.  Waking at 8am, only to be back asleep by 10am. 

It’s moments like this I really feel the distance we have from family. 

It’s also moments like this I feel grateful for the way those who have the capacity, wrap us up in love. From door dropping handmade teas, tinctures, oils, or food. 

It made a difference. 

Many tears shed. Many Rafi’s, Many mine, A few of Tuls. 

Today I wake up SO incredibly grateful for our bodies, health, immune systems, and our normal everyday life being vibrant. 

Grateful for community and people who have the capacity to give. 

Grateful that the accident wasn’t as serious as it had the potential to be. 

Grateful Rafi is healthy and well. 

You know, living life as “of course I’m grateful” if someone were to ask. But it can sometimes take some contrast and perspective to really truly feel that expansion of gratitude throughout the body. 

I had a moment when we were in the car accident, and another moment when we took Rafi into the ER, and a moment when he was laying on my lap fevering and lethargic, 

And another moment as I lay on my back waiting for my baby in my womb to kick because I was worried my fluids could be too low, or all my coughing was stimulating my uterus too much. 

All those moments collated one evening as I was on the couch with Tully, feeling 40% but enough for us to have a quick cuddle and chat before bed. 

There I was sobbing, at the overwhelm in my body. The stretch. 

The stretch of growing into new territory. 

The tension of making choices to allow a “letting go” and to actively choose what’s coming. 

The mystery of growing, and the grief that comes with it. 

Normally it felt so much easier to “hold” our life. 

And normally for me I’m one to embrace change and growth and leap into the unknown. Swim in the limbo happily. 

Though at that point, it felt impossible to hold ourselves, each other, our son, our family. 

I wondered, at what point did I become adult enough to be trusted with so much responsibility. 

Who put me in charge? 

There was a desire to give it all away (the responsibility)

And a discomfort in the reality that I can’t give it away. I can either resist. Or grow with. 

Resist. Or grow with. 

In so many areas of my life right now. 

So many macro moments and micro moments. 

And becoming an adult isn’t an overnight gig. 

It’s a collection of moments that stretch and stretch until it feels like a new normal. Second nature. Then stretch again. 

It feels as though the crone in me, the wise woman, from my future, is literally being created right now in these moments. 

And one day I’ll be an embodiment of it all, and hold big energy. 

But it starts here. 

I found the same pattern within my pregnancy right now. 

The Resistance to responsibility. To fully drop into the fact that I’m pregnant. I’m the mum. It’s me. 

I’m the one with a baby in womb. I’m the one who’ll birth this baby. 

This pregnancy has felt somewhat lonely. Though so not lonely socially. But in all the moments where I would normally feel a connection to source or god or whatever it is that fills up our cells. 

I hadn’t. It felt scary. In limbo. Disconnected from the miracle and magic. 

Moments in the past where I would have relied on Tully’s support more, or family, or friends, I found myself needing to step up and stretch into the opening of responsibility and choosing. 

I’ve found myself holding/carrying so much more that I wanted to. Whether that be more in my mind, energetically or even physically moving around, being with Raf etc. 

And in some ways holding myself less. Under the disguise that I’m holding myself. Though really, I’ve put myself in the “Later box” so I can “cram some me time/ birth prep/ Kat nourishment” closer to birth. 

Holding myself at arms length, rather that pulling myself in and saying hey, we got this. 

The inner child wants to rebel and push it away. A deeper sadness that I can’t soften and surrender into this experience because there are things to organise and people to see and places to go. 

As if they are kicking and screaming and begging not to grow up. 

It’s interesting but not surprising for me that the mother energy I channel into Rafi, is needed now more than ever to re-parent myself into the next stage of life. 

I feel like only now, at 32 weeks I’m at the tipping point. It got uncomfortable enough to allow the change that naturally is wanting to move through me. 

I allow it to have caught me off guard. My experience of this pregnancy. Blinks of connectedness, amidst a lot more resistance than I anticipated. Something I just didn’t have with Raf. With him I felt so ready to lean in to it all. So eager. 

It’s new territory now. A layer that only became uncovered when I arrived. 

I am allowing the surprise, I am allowing the resistance and the push back. 

I’m allowing the grief. The grief that accompanies growing and stretching in this way. 

The deep sadness that life keeps moving, and maybe we don’t always get to catch a breath. 

The physical sensation of my body stretching open, energetically too. 

I am a STRONG believer that the hormones in pregnancy are not only there for mama and baby to grow and bond but there IN ORDER TO lift to the surface all the truths we suppress.

Designed to allow all our feelings to bubble to the top so they have an opportunity to be felt and loved and cleared and processed. 

To make way to be a clear channel to birth our babies. 

So since about 30 weeks, I’ve had a good cry every day. 

And allowed these waves of grief to move through me. Often I don’t have language or words for what the waves represent. I’m not as fussed as to “WHY” I’m feeling this way, and instead just making space to feel in the first place. 

There is pleasure in the human experience for me in this way. 

Though intense. 

This type of recalibration reminds me of birth. It reminds me that it’s only when you arrive at the alter of birth, do you know what’s needed of you. No amount of prep can actually prepare you. It requires presence only. 

And the ability to get present and attune to our body. 

So right now that’s my birth prep. That’s my process. Give myself opportunities to get present with what’s in my body. 

And lately, day after day, it’s the grief of growing. The grief of responsibility. The grief of feeling lonely in a life that is filled with love. It’s the grief of a relationship that is about to change again. The grief of my son Rafi no longer being my only son. The grief that this pregnancy is almost over though feels like it’s just started and I haven’t been able to give it what I wanted to and hoped to. The grief of letting go the pedestal of Rafi’s birth and postpartum experience and releasing that as an identity, so that I can make space for the mother becoming. 

The grief of the exhaustion of the growing pains. 

I know it will all pass, I’m absolutely not worried. 

But I am present to it. 

And I’ll be present when that grief morphs into liberation, and peace. When I feel two feet in the woman I’m becoming. When I rock with each surge knowing I know how to be right there with it. 

When I hold my little boy and know that yes there is connection in the womb but THIS starts NOW once he’s in my arms too. 

That new phase of depth and love I’ll get to experience with Tully, and the intimacy of our beautiful family of four. I’ll change. And when I’m on the other side, I’ll have insight that I simply don’t yet have. 

I’ll write different, move different, love different. 

That excites me. It’s all truly so fleeting. 

And though right now I’m in it - in my way, 

And maybe you’re “In it” in your way…

The path of least resistance is THROUGH. 

We can lean away from the challenge that’s calling us. Dig our heels in. Beg it to stop and just give you a moment to gather your thoughts. 

But inevitably, we have to drop into our bodies. Be present. And feel. 

That’s how we move through to the other side, that’s being human. That’s what offers contrast and perspective and a more colourful life.
It’s not to crave comfort. Though I will still absolutely avoid an ice bath at all cost. 

It’s to move INTO the abyss and mystery of ourselves, and come out the other side with new eyes. A recalibration of our body and an attunement to the way life can guide us. 

I can feel the magic creeping back in as I clear out

Some pics below.

Kat River is a writer, mother, intuitive & Creative. This newsletter is a subscriber supported weekly publication designed to be an honest exploration of philosophy around motherhood, Being a mother maker/creative, the village, raising humanity & Personal BTS & promotions. The community is growing and I’m soooo happy you’re here.

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Love Kat