Subscribebirth
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the experience of birth from the baby’s perspective. Or at least trying to imagine what it will be like for her that chilly day in February.
Right now she’s all snuggly and warm in her world… in my belly. She kicks and rolls and can hear my voice and heartbeat. It’s all she knows. It’s her entire universe. And she’s used to that environment and probably (hopefully) feels safe in there. But come February, all that will change. A hugely traumatic experience awaits her when she will travel down and out into bright white lights, strange new sounds and completely unfamiliar territory. In a matter of minutes her universe will expand beyond her wildest dreams. And she will be somewhere new and beautiful.
What a huge thing! It sounds so scary… so unknown… so unreal, doesn’t it?
Sometimes I wonder if death is the same way… With all the death that has touched my family this year, I think about how maybe the two processes (dying and being born) might be really similar. Think about it… we get so used to this little universe that we know. We feel safe in it. We are familiar with all the sights and sounds and the rhythm of it. And then we inevitably get to the end of our time here in this place. And we don’t really know what’s on the other side of that process. It’s unfamiliar and maybe kind of scary and unreal. But maybe, just like birth, what awaits is a beautiful new experience. Beyond our imaginations. And we’ll be ok. It’s just another sort of birth into some new, wild territory.
Heaven is an awesome place, it is the absence of anything miserable here. A great book about it by Randy Alcorn.
Sounds a lot like life, doesn’t it. What a wild ride we are on. First starting with birth. It is a blessing to be able to live it and experience it. I enjoyed your post very much.
you rule, penny.
i love this idea, said from a girl who is terrified of that unknown.
Love your thoughts here.
I like what you wrote, here, and find it somewhat comforting when thinking of my loved ones who are gone. I hope you and your family are hanging in there, and are surely missing your brother’s wife.
You’ve put into words the very thought’s that have been running through my head lately as well. Well put.
What a comforting and beautiful, hopeful thought. Thank you for reassuring me as my mom faces a recent diagnosis of breast cancer!
It may sound funny, Penelope, but when I started reading this, I was thinking at the same time about what you said next. I also think like you do. I don’t know what will happen, but I rather dream that there is something new and marvelous waiting for us.
I totally agree. I think we do have another miraculous adventure ahead.
My daughters are 16 and 13 and your post brought back memories when I was pregnant with my first. She arrived 5 days late and I’ve always said she was wise from the get-go because who wouldn’t want to stay all warm and nestled instead of coming out into the cold bright world? Congrats on your pregnancy. Your baby will be so lucky to look at your beautiful work above her changing table.
Really well put, Miss P. With my Dad’s death this year, I know that when the time was nearing, he dug his heals in the ground. He didn’t want to go. It was heartbreaking. But I also saw him slowly ‘let go’ bit by bit, and my brother said on his death bed that you could tell he was doing a lot of thinking. I think brith to has that little creature needing to ‘let go’ and some are a bit more stubborn that others. I always liked that story I heard, that the reason we all have a little dent abover our upper lip, is becasue right before we’re born, an angel puts their finger up to our lips and says, “Shhhh, don’t tell anyone how beautiful it was here’…’ Your little one will have it’s mama’s arms, and smell, and voice to fall back on that first scary moment.
When I was in training to become a hospice volunteer, I heard a lot about how working with hospice is similar to the work a doula does at the beginning of life. Loving support during life’s transitions.
My daughter was born in February. I remember laboring for several bright sunny days!
Wow, Penelope, you have so many wonderful things going on right now. My first daughter was born in February :) I think that you can never plan or even imagine a birth, you just have to go with the flow of the moment. Even if that is difficult to do sometimes…
I love the artwork that came out of the class you taught at Squam, and your nursery looks so beautiful – lucky baby!
Mmmm. That was really nice to read. I have a friend whose mother is having a really harde time with death right now who’d maybe be calmed by your thoughts. I’ve also been thinking about the little one in my belly right now. I keep feeling amazed at how I don’t remember those 9 months when I was in my mother’s womb. I’m certain on some level I do, but yet I don’t. I often talk to the little soul inside me and smooth my hands over my belly, praying he or she feels so safe, so peaceful and content. and i say, i’m here, and i’ll be right here just as soon as you’re ready. Just take your time.
just as you wrote, i’d like to think some entity is on the other side saying the same thing at the end of our time.
I think death and birth are very similar and scary. My Papa and my baby are very close. We visited my Papa on sunday, he has dementia and has had two falls in the last week and he is in another world at times. He patted Ethan’s head, held his little hand with his old fragile hands and sang him old sea shanty’s. It was enough to bring tears to my eyes.
that’s exactly how i see it. smart girl you are.
xoxo
Beautiful thoughts Penny… and so you made me cry.. in a good way though :)
mmmhh. this speaks to me. the connection between birth & death. thank you for this post, Penelope.
warmly,
gem
I hope so.
That’s a really beautiful way of looking at it! Thanks so much for sharing – I needed to hear that today! Best wishes!
this is so beautiful. i never thought of it this way before. it is comforting, in a way.
i’m so happy for you and your family!
My first baby girl was born in a winter storm in February, we named her Sunny Rae, after two very important people in our lives that we lost. Your experiences with life and love and loss, your keen senses, and thoughtfulness will guide you to be a wonderful mother.