Retreat, Rest, Recoup…
How do these words make you feel? Where in your body does it react when you read them? When I read them my jaw and shoulders tense up - I physically feel anger at the thought of these words.
It's funny / not funny that I pride myself on the extended rest I took during my first 42 days postpartum with Atlas, but now I am forcing myself to listen to my body and my mind. I know I need to take a break. I am being reminded how genuinely HARD it was to stay in bed and recoup and allow others to tend to me and my family in a way that I've never received in the past.
It’s even harder now since I’m out of the 4th trimester and I “should” be able to manage everything. I “should be” able to juggle the needs of my children, and my home, keep up with my schoolwork, and work-work, oh and make time for my husband… am I forgetting anything else…? 🤔 Oh right!
My needs.
Not wants, not even desires, my actual physical needs.
As I write this I reflect on the fact that after my breast reduction surgery at 12 years old and a 36DD, I went right back to work within the same week.
No resting, no recouping, just carrying on.
Atlas is almost 18 months old now, and with that, we've spent the past month tossing and turning due to teething, developmental leaps, and as my dear INNATE sisters remind me, he is still an extension of me, and my shadow. If I'm struggling in any way shape or form, he will be the external version of what I am actually desperately crying out for - a break, rest, the opportunity to retreat, to recoup. If we suppress it, it will manifest in other areas of our lives….typically in sickness or DIS-EASE. (For those following on social media, remember that nasty case of mastitis and how my whole family had been sick on and off for over a month? 😞)
When either of my children needs extra attention I know deep down it’s because they have been lacking personal time or one-on-one time with us. With Atlas especially, he is still so connected to my needs that if I look and listen to when he is usually the most triggering for me, it’s when I should be looking more internal and seeing what he is trying to show to me or express for me.
One of the most influential books that gave such beautiful language to what I have experienced both times I have navigated through infancy with my babies; Maternity: Coming Face to Face with Your Own Shadow
This book I can not recommend enough to women that are pregnant, or if they have a baby (children in general for that matter, but especially under the age of 3).
Infancy is three years. THREE WHOLE YEARS. That means that I have been blessed with an external reminder of how I am truly feeling for another 18 whole months.
Here is a perfect lived example of this:
Zach and I were having an intense conversation, no screaming or yelling, no arguing, but a truly intense conversation that I’m sure I’ll share one day in the future. Atlas (14 months at the time) was going back and forth from sitting on the sofa with us to playing on the floor. We had a play cushion laid out and at the climax of our conversation, Atlas went from playing and giggling to throwing himself on the floor SOBBING and he acted as though he could not breathe. Even writing this out I can physically feel the pain he was expressing so beautifully unhinged.
He was not physically hurt and externally nothing had happened to explain such a response. I will never forget the look of anguish on his face. As soon as I sat down to comfort him, hold him into my chest, and assess what had happened, I knew.
I felt it.
I looked at Zach and said, how he is crying is exactly how I feel inside. I took a huge deep breath and tried as best as I could to calm myself. I held Atlas close and breastfed him to comfort him, while I voiced what I was feeling to Zach, and within minutes Atlas was back to himself and playing again as if nothing had happened.
When Evangeline was a baby I did not know any of this obviously, and just saw her as a high-needs baby who would just sob if I set her down for even a minute. I saw her as something that needed to be fixed, not as the beautiful gift that she was in showing how much I too desperately needed to be loved, held, and supported as a new mother just like she did as a new baby.
So here I am, almost 18 months postpartum listening.
Listening to what my mind, body, and soul are desperately screaming for.
Against what every fiber of my being is comfortable with, I am embracing my retreat, rest, and recouping during these next few weeks especially.
“We weren’t meant to work in December. We were meant to hide from wolves, drink and pray our autumn harvest will last us through the dark months.”