Mummy missives

Birth and becoming one in the Force

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Even before I was a Star Wars fan I believed in something like the Force. An energy that surrounds and penetrates, binding everything and everyone in one flow of existence. But since I gave birth, it’s provided me with a language for describing the indescribable; how I could stand the pain and exhaustion for her. How its memory faded to insignificance as soon as she was safe in my arms. How wrong I’d been in the fear that I wouldn’t be able to give her the love she needed, because fear is finite where love is boundless.

I’m reminded of Luke’s Jedi training on Dagobah, and how fear made unlocking his full power seem impossible. Because it was just that feeling which made him doubt his innate abilities, exactly as my own fear steps me back from my potential. During labour, I transcended everything except wanting to see my daughter. There was no fear, and while there was pain it was nothing I couldn’t handle (with a little gas and air). I might have been one with the Force then, that trial of mine pushing me to let go for the sake of the proudest and happiest moment of my life.

As Dominic cut the cord, the physical link with my daughter had gone but that Force remained in the waves of love breaking over us. I was holding life in my arms. Life with limits, but boundless in possibility. I had no sense of place, but knew I was where I belonged. And I knew I had become someone stronger – a luminous being.

Nothing could be impossible; I had her. I had waited and suffered, all so I could look down at her face with her daddy’s nose. I had endured so I could look into those eyes, so bright and deep and blue and so like mine. I looked into those eyes and saw my purpose.

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