To surrender has been my mantra for years.  It became my solace in the seven months it took for us to conceive. It became necessary during the many flavors of pregnancy. It overtook me during the process of giving birth. But never was it more relevant or profound than now, here in the act of mothering.  And what a beautiful gift it is.

In the days and weeks after coming home with this tiny human, life took on new meaning as we adjusted to the balancing act. Surrender remained my best ally.  Nothing happened as it used to anymore. Everything took an eternity to accomplish, no thought went uninterrupted, finding time to cover the basics felt impossible.  But there was something in the gravity of caring for another so intimately and intensely that began to peel back the layers of my previous reality, the tidy, calm, and collected world I had valued.

What once had seemed incredibly important lost it's value.  Allowing the layers of my old habits and stories to be peeled away left me at the core, which was just pure golden love. Love for my child, my husband, community, and our abundant and blessed life, but mostly there was a love for my-self. For the first time I felt completely beautiful and whole, just as I was.  Nothing needed to be added, subtracted, changed, achieved, or deleted.  Surrender called me to drop the battle with convention, expectation, petty worries, judgement and resentment.

There I stood, baby weight still lingering, sagging stomach recovering from the expansiveness, no make-up, dirty hair, simple clothes, milk stains on my shirt, and a baby in my arms. I had never felt more like a goddess, never more radiant. I had been washed clean through the process, my willingness to surrender tearing me down and birthing me anew. The meaning in life and the lightness of being cradled me now and gave way to a new perspective, everything put in it's place by a glimpse of the pure love in my heart.