There is magic to be witnessed if you visit someone who has just given birth. A deep primal magic.
Indescribable power and strength marrying brokenness and unmatched vulnerability. It thickens the air, new mama drenched in the union. You can’t help but stare, in awe, at her. Sitting on a throne of bloody pads and swollen body parts, she is regal. She is breathtaking.
Animalistic energy sweats off her, adrenaline retreating to make way for the fiercer chemical etching new pathways in cortices that cannot be unmade. Disheveled, in pain, exhausted – radiant. Beauty like nothing you’ve seen before.
She may resemble the person you had lunch with a few days prior, chatting excitedly about how she hopes her baby comes soon…but she is not the same. You feel it. She feels it. Something has shifted.
She has been undone.
And it is in the undoing that she’s become.
The unraveling of what and who she used to be, has spun a new being into existence. Nine months in the making, coming to a beautiful completion in the matter of hours.
The juxtaposing experiences of every muscle of the body being strained and pushed to their limits, intense pain, possibly even trauma, giving way to life and a new form of love impossible to describe.
Terrifying. Beautifully soul wrenching. Glorious. Sacred.
The every day event of giving birth is inexplicably miraculous. And the birth giver… that new Mama you are visiting?
She is pure magic.
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