I’m sitting here at the window writing this, soaking up that same moon, and I can’t stop thinking about her and giving birth and how that whole process is a metaphor for every momentous event: for us, it’s our moving out of this house into The Great Unknown. To a Something that hasn’t quite taken shape yet; to a future that isn’t certain.
I’ve felt like I’ve been in labour the past week: the slow, frustrating build up, the stopping, the starting. And now, I’m in transition. I’m at the “I can’t take it any more! Stop this happening, I want to get off!” stage: knowing, knowing I can’t get off; knowing, knowing I have to allow myself be carried along in the force of all that is happening around me; knowing that I am in the middle of the snowball that is gathering speed going down the hill and it can’t stop until things even out on the flat again.
I’m tired. Exhausted. I’ve laboured and I’m done. I want this to stop. I feel like I don’t have the energy to do the final push, to pack up our last few things and drive away for the last time (We are moving out in a few days)
This transition is completely shite and horribly painful and frequently makes me so anxious I can’t breathe properly. I hate the saying goodbyes, the grief of loss, the fear of the unknown.
I hate the frustration of all that needs to be done on a day to day basis, before I ever tackle packing and sorting and deciding what stays and goes. I hate the uncertainty, the lack of definitive answers, the lack of stability.
And yet, I know I will, in birth-language parlance, give birth to something extraordinary in this moving. I can see a twinge of light coming through, a shard of excitement every now and then. The knowing that I’m not going to be “in labour” forever, that an end is in sight. That “the darkest hour is just before the dawn”, that the next few days are going to be tough and brutal and I’m possibly going to scream and cry (silently, I hope, in my head, so I don’t disturb my poor children).
I know it will be okay. I’m relinquishing all hold over what happens next, trusting that it will happen for our highest good.
I’m in transition, there’s a full, full moon saturating the sky, and I’m giving birth really, really soon…