pregnant, swollen, heavy with red blood. the swelling and growing takes some adjusting. so many years of chasing tightness. firm, flat, strong and now I am just supposed to let it grow?
i go to bed, my belly hurts.
my baby is breech. midwife says I must learn to relax my belly.
no holding, create space.
she feels like she is ripping open my pelvis.
this can’t be right. it hurts too much…
my back! my Back!
no no no, I leave.“that’s your baby” brings me back.
the sewing takes hours.
ripped open, my legs are so tired and just want to close.
my “gift” is safe in my arms now and i just want to go to sleep.
i can’t walk upright. so much blood. It stings.
i have to go to bathroom but I’m scared.
something’s not right.
they say everything’s normal. the body will heal. the body is amazing it will go back. i can’t sit. the heaviness is so painful.
i just want to walk around with my crying baby, I know what to do.
my center of creative force,
survival
sexuality
foundation
security
my womb
the life giver
pleasure seeker…
has been ripped open, and I chose this.
i keep reading “pelvic floor trauma”.
all my life I have been so self critical of these big hips and booty I have been gifted. in the back of my head I always imagined they would redeem me when it came time for childbirth.
i have big hips. I’ll be good at this.
the tender shock when he goes to touch me again.
my legs want to snap shut.
my clit wants to cry out.
my vagina says, “this isn’t me”.
it’s so tight. it wants to rip open again.
they sewed me too tight. swollen maybe. Or my rose just weaves a pattern suggesting that certain petals may fit together even though they weren’t designed to.
an opening that is too tight that gives way to the cavern’s emptiness.
i weep.
written by Jackie Davey DTI Doula and DTI Educator. Jackie works in the North Bay Area of San Francisco.