January 5th, 1:37pm

3rd Entry

Dear Aspiring Mama,

I so badly want to get this right. To share with you all that you need to make your mama dreams come true. Because the truth of the matter is that I am there with you all over again. And I so badly didn’t want to have to share that with you today. 

For the last half hour or so, I’ve been journalling. Writing to God—a practice I’ve adopted ever since Calling In The One changed my life a few years ago. If you’re single and wanting to become the one who calls in her one, get a copy and devote yourself to the work of Katherine Woodward Thomas. I’ll talk more about this later on when we dive into everything relationships—from calling one in to saving yours from drowning.

God’s last message today:

Guide her. Be imperfect. Let yourself be seen. Your story is important. 

Then as I went to open the document to start typing, the quote above popped up on a document I left open. 

“What if I’m just honest? What if I write the truth about my life?” – Glennon Doyle, Pg 37, Untamed

Message received. 

Telling the truth about our lives is so hard when it is aligned with what we hoped it would be, isn’t it? 

It also feels hard when you want to support others in realizing their deepest desires and you wonder if your story will make any sort of difference. 

But the truth doesn’t lie. And sometimes simply telling the truth yourself gives others permission to do so as well. Part of your journey to becoming a mom is about honouring the truth of who you are, what you want, and how you are called to go about it. 

Because if there is anything in life that will confront you with facing the truth of your life, it is becoming a mom. The purity of the experience cracks you open. Leaving you and all your beauty, power, scars, and unhealed wounds out in the open. 

You may as well start getting honest about these now. Unleashing your beauty and power will delight you and the all those around you. Owning your scars and facing those unhealed wounds will save you some tears—and potentially postpartum depression.

Kneeling by the bath tub, I called my partner Alex to come join me. Alicia was soaking in the water, pouring water from the measuring cup over herself, sneaking a sip here and there despite our repetitive request not to. 

Looking up at Alex who had taken a seat on the edge of the tub I asked him the question that had been on my mind for a little while:

“Alors quand allons-nous lui faire un frère ou une soeur?” Translated: So, when are we going to make her a brother or sister?

He smirked but didn’t give me an answer. I waited for what felt like a long enough time and got the hint that it wasn’t time to push. 

Our soul knows when it is time to push. When the time comes for you to give birth—and I wish that you will be able to do so naturally and powerfully—you will know. 

Although I’ve experienced other things in life that tried to teach me about the inherent knowing about the perfect time to push, that feeling that came over and through my body during labour ingrained the lesson in me forever. The moment a wave gives you the nudge to push up and surf would be the closest thing one can experience otherwise. 

Just as nature provides clear guidance about when it’s time to push, it does the same when it’s time to surrender. 

Ah, surrender. That’s a lot harder for me to do. And I suspect it is for you too. It isn’t something North American culture celebrates, unless you just finished a Bikram yoga class and feel the sweat under your tits and between your butt cheeks in savasana. 

In any case, I knew that last night wasn’t the time to push Alex to give me an answer. Even if his tendency to simply say nothing is one of the hardest things for me to accept at times, I did last night. I have learned that he needs time to process. That he rather say nothing until he feels good enough to say what he truly wants to take action on. 

Still, I felt disappointed. Why couldn’t he just say, “now.” I’m ovulating and I’m ready. Not to mention that we are “in it” and I don’t want to wait too long—mostly for career purposes, more on that another day.

As I prepared Alicia for bed, I watched Alex as he sat at his desk. Scrolling through the homes for sale in our area. Overpriced and none sparking that kind of excitement we want a home to spark. 

He wants to expand. But he feels that we need a bigger home in order to do so. His desire to protect and provide for us was triggered last night as it is the most primal part of him. And what brings him great joy. 

I’m ok living in our small home for now. If it was only up to me I’d say: “let’s get naked and make a baby. Then we will figure out the house stuff.”

I could hear my womb whisper: “Trust. Surrender. Tango on.”

It takes two to tango. And I’ve chosen to tango with this man. He has hopes, vision, and dreams just like I do. They aren’t all the same, that’s part of life. Learning to tango to the same beat is part of the dance. 

So as Al Pacino said in his role as Frank Slade in Scent Of A Woman— one of my favourite movies of all-time: No mistakes in the tango darling, not like life. It’s simple. That’s what makes the tango so great. If you make a mistake, get all tangled up, just tango on.

And therefore, I am tangoing on. Waiting for the next song to come on. And trust that the nudge will be there when it’s time to revisit the conversation. Perhaps today or maybe not. 

The beauty in all this is that it made me see the truth about my desire. I am ready to answer the call to expanding our family. I wasn’t a few months ago. My body wasn’t ready. My relationship wasn’t either. But I feel it now. And I feel confident in who I am enough to stand proudly in that now. 

But I didn’t back then. 

Back when I was single, soaking in the small tub of my Montreal apartment. Instead of honouring my call to motherhood, I cried and drank wine. I had not yet realized that my desires were divine. That the call to motherhood is beautiful. That I could embrace it with my whole being and make it a priority, even if there was no evidence that the possibility of it was anywhere close. Consciously align my life and act in such a way that is was in fact happening, make it obvious to the Universe that I was in fact all-in instead of send mixed messages filled with fear and doubt. 

That’s why I’m here with you today. 

I want you to tell the truth. 

Pour yourself a bath and soak in it, the truth that is. 

Feel the heat. Sweat out all that isn’t you. 

Listen to the wisdom of your womb. 

Stand confidently in your desire for becoming a mom. 

And honour when it’s time to surrender and when it’s time to push. 

Chances are you already know what’s the next best move. 

Question is, are you willing to step on the dance floor and dance?

Are you willing to live as if your desire to become a mom is the truth and consciously eliminate the distractions, beliefs, people, places, and habits that are wrapped up in doubt and fear and hold you back from twirling your way into motherhood?

My hope is that you’ll say yes. 

With love,

Mel