Dear Sesame Seed,
I guess we are back for another of our middle of the night writing sessions. As you grow bigger, it becomes harder for me to adjust and find comfortable positions for my body. It is miraculous and incredible to watch you grow, to feel you move, and to know the pains and discomfort I feel a lot of the time are my Baby becoming a little, fully functioning, person. I am awed by you.
The dream I just woke from was a dream of your birth. In my dream, the birth was so easy. It happened at home, your Daddy was there and two doctors were assisting. There was some kind of odd tension between the two doctors, and I spent most of the time avoiding doing what they said. They weren't that present anyway. When it came time to birth you, I seemed to know exactly what to do. With Daddy supporting me from behind, I squatted down, and I smoothly and painlessly pushed you out into the world. In the dream, my eyes were closed an I concentrated only on pushing. I knew and trusted that Daddy was right there to catch you. I opened my eyes for a moment to see your head crown, then I closed them again and just felt with my body what needed to be done. I knew, rather than saw, that as long as I birthed you, Daddy would be there to catch your body. It was an amazing feeling of trust, in my own body and in Daddy's support of both me and you. I woke up soon after.
The thing is, I have hardly been thinking about your birth itself at all. It seems odd to me, but I just can't focus my thoughts on it. Part of me worried that I had some kind of deep fear of it - fear of pain or loss of control - and I was avoiding thinking about it. Another part of me thought I must just realize how impractical it is to obsess over something I could never truly predict - I couldn't know how birth would feel for me regardless of how much I thought about it, so why bother.
Now, after that dream, and knowing how revealing my dreams sometimes are, I wonder if I just feel at peace with birth. I have never wanted anything more than to bring you into my life, our lives. Maybe, somewhere inside me, I know I can do anything to bring you here. Maybe, finally, after all this time trying, I believe I am strong enough. Strong enough to carry my Baby, strong enough to birth my Baby, and maybe even strong enough to be the Mama my Baby needs.
Thank you, my dear little one, for helping me to believe.
I already love you, little one,