Two weeks ago, I gave birth to our little baby boy, Ethan James Thear. Our labour (like all first labours) was long and difficult and didn't go according to plan. I ended up having an emergency c-section but it was all worth it, when our healthy baby boy was delivered into our arms.
Naturally, the first few days of motherhood was hectic and a steep learning curve. In fact, the learning curve isn't likely to end anytime soon! Never the less, every hurdle was interspaced with these beautiful moments of joy. Like seeing the expression on my husband Craig's face when he held Ethan for the first time. The love on his face was a pure love that didn't have to be forced or manufactured. It was just love.
When I held Ethan in my arms - well words can't really fully describe the feelings that came over me. It was a spontaneous opening of the heart which allowed me to taste what true rejoicing and gratitude is. Normally, when I practice rejoicing or gratitude practices, it's often difficult to expand my heart. It always feels like a part of me is holding on or tight; you could even say I was unwilling to entirely let down my guard. With Ethan however, I immediately felt those warm feelings of gratitude for all the help we received.
I was grateful to the team of midwives, the obstretric team, the nurses and allied health professionals, all of whom worked so hard to help bring Ethan into the world and make his transition into Samsara as easy as possible. Each and every one of those beings did their utmost to care for me and my family as we all recovered from the trauma of birth. It was a beautiful lesson in dependent arising and the kindness of others. I was reminded that we are really, one bigger family. The boundaries were not as solid as we like to make them out to be.
A week later, after finally coming home, I sat down for 10mins of formal sitting. Yet from the moment I sat down onto that cushion, I found tears welling in my eyes as the sea of emotions overcame me. I felt how fragile and beautiful life is. I knew that really, Ethan's birth and infancy was but a small light in a vast expanse of time and space. I was as impermanent as my husband and son, and I knew I had to make the most of this time shared together with gentle mindfulness and love. I felt fear that one day, I would have to part with my beautiful family. And once upon a time, I would have drowned in that fear and become terrible despondent or withdrawn. Yet since practicing the Dharma, it has given me alternatives for coping with fear and so now, I practice loving-kindness. I practice it for me, for my Son, for all the babies, the mothers & fathers, for all sentient beings. Love empowers me to be compassionate and to hold my fear without drowning. It reminds me to live life's little moments to its fullest in whatever its form.
And on that note, it's time to end this blog. My mindfulness reminder is crying for me and needs my undivided attention.
Lots of love,
Demi.
