|me following in the footsteps of warriors|
On Saturday, March 3 four warrior women made another offering of their love to plant Max's placenta with me. It has almost been a year. The umbilical chord was so full of life it was nearly pulsating. The rich smell of fresh blood and the crimson color that is women was mesmerizing. I gave birth. I gave birth. Max is such a great big Being that sometimes I loose track that he actually came through me. I did give birth to him and his placenta. I have held both.
The below is my experience of how warriors serve a mother when she says it is time to bury the placenta of her deceased baby. Here it is.
you load up your warm clothes and get in the car with her.
you trust her instinct that she knows exactly where to go.
you hike to the top of a mountain.
you nearly fall off the side of that mountain following her to the perfect Koa tree.
you get down on your knees and dig in the dirt with her.
you rub the earth all over your body.
you examine the placenta with such precision that you actually feel the flesh that held her son in her uterus. you place it in the earth with a song.
you let your tears roll down your cheeks and nourish the offering
you smile when the mother says "you do not bury your baby's placenta YOU PLANT IT. I can feel the earth breathing"
you look her straight in the eyes when she tells you "something in my cells has shifted... it is a feeling of re-birth."
you look up at the sky and feel your own heart lift to meet Max.
you share with her your own experience of what you fear most and then share how you love more radically because of it
you walk down the backside of the mountain not saying anything but holding hands in the sunshine
you place your hands on your own pregnant belly and know that nothing is certain, that life will moves through us, and as mothers and all we can really do is love our children
you drive back down from the mountaintop knowing that life will never be the same and yet we love the ordinary... the magical ordinary
This is the path of the warrior... let them see it in the way we walk
walk on through, again and again, blood may be planted for beauty to bloom, get the earth all over you, walk through