Labouring with grief

I feel as though I have fallen inward in my search for understanding and acceptance.  I am present, because I force myself to be, to not let the moment fade away or disapear but my desire is to fade away myself.  There are no books that I have found that tell me how to negotiate the waves of grief while wiping a snotty nose and finding amusements for two year olds.  My moments of grief are stolen, hidden not because I am ashamed but simply because I do not have the luxury of time or place.  Knowing that soon I will be giving birth again, existing in that place where life and death are not separate, instills an urgency in my need to accept and move through my grief.  Yet, just like the work of labour, the work of grief has its own rhythm and its own path and forcing it to move to another’s sense of timing will do nothing but ensure more pain that serves no purpose.

The birth of my daughter, was also my rebirth.  It was my transformation.  Outwardly, there was no sign or symptom of this change but I had shifted sideways, and my body became heavier and my soul lighter.  I could see and hear more clearly and my heart became more open.  I still fall back to my old ways, where I forget what really matters and become caught up in my own ego.

I am afraid that my upcoming birthing journey is going to be overshadowed and intertwined with my journey of grief.  I am afraid of being in that space where life and death are one and the same while learning how to accept the death of my father.  I am frightened that I will not have the strength or the capacity to go through two transformations at the same time.  I am afraid that my child will be born swaddled in my grief.  I am afraid that my sorrow will taint their birth gift and become a shadow that follows them on their own journey.  I am afraid that I will try to control my labour rather than letting myself fall into it.

So I search.  I search for words of wisdom that help me understand.  I search for the quiet places within and outside of myself where I can just be.  I search for the sounds that bring peace and comfort.  I search for trust and I search for hope.