10 days and counting…

Only 10 more days before 13 local literary connoisseurs come together to bravely share with us their stories.  Rochester’s third annual Listen to Your Mother event is right around the corner on Saturday, May 13th at 7:30pm at the Lyric Theater.  Tickets to the event can be purchased by visiting  http://listentoyourmothershow.com/rochester/ .

Did we mention attending LTYM with your loved ones makes fabulous and touching Mother’s Day gift?!

Sara Treadwell.pngThis week we dig back into our archive and (re-)introduce you to a LTYM 2016 cast member, Sara Treadwell.

Sara left a career in social work in order to start The Light Room Wellness Center where she assists clients with the restoration of harmony and balance through a form of energy healing called BioGenesis. She enjoys reflecting on the many ways our children help us to find our inner Buddha through her blog RaisingZen.wordpress.com.  Read Sara’s beautiful written word from LTYM 2016 below.

“Am I My Child’s Mother?”

I was ​sixteen​ when I had my first child.

It was not what I ​expected​ or ​planned​ but it was the way my life was ​supposed​ to go.

It was ​no​ ​accident​.

My ​first​ ​decision​ as a mother was not what name to give my baby, but what mother.

My first​ ​task ​in motherhood was determining ​WHO​ would be my childs mom. I ​wasn’t sure​ that the answer to this was me.

I am not talking about deciding if I wanted to be her mother, but ​if I was supposed to be her mom.

I knew the moment I found out I was pregnant that I would make any ​sacrifice necessary to be her mother. But was I supposed to be?

This is not a question most moms ever have to ask themselves, but for the ones who do, there is a special kind of ​awareness​ that forms, a ​unique​ ​bond​ with their child. A special​ ​shift which opens our eyes to the reality of ​motherhood​ ​beyond​ ​ourselves​.

Imagining​ the child you carry with a ​different​ ​mother​ takes a special kind of courage and strength. ​Envisioning​ your baby reaching success without your guidance and input is humbling and heartbreaking.

I knew that I was being asked by the ​powers that be​, to bring this child into the world. But who her mother would be was a separate question.

Maybe it was me. Perhaps I was going to get to ​see her grow​.. But only if that was best for her.

Maybe, there was ​another woman​, another ready momma­to­be waiting to mother my child. Perhaps she was dreaming of holding my baby, her baby in her arms and singing her to sleep at night.

Starting out motherhood by having to question if you are ​even supposed to be the mother to your child is difficult​. It is frightening, and sad, and liberating in a way.

I felt the ​physical ties​ with this new little life, I wanted to be there to help assist her to adulthood, but I also understood that just because I brought her into this world does not mean, unequivocally, that I was going to be the one to raise her.

I never once doubted that this child was given to me so that I could ​allow her safe passage into this world​. And, as her mother, all I wanted, from the very first moments, was for her to have the life she was supposed to have.

If that meant giving her to another family, although I knew it would break my heart, I would do it. If that was what was best for her then yes.​ I would give my child to another mother.​I would let her go. Because she was not mine. She was never mine.

That is the thing we often miss. ​Our children are not “ours”​. We, as mothers, are given the honor of witnessing the miracle that is new life. We assist children into the world and then we are offered the privilege of witnessing their journey.

What I have learned ​over the past sixteen years since my first pregnancy, what I somehow instinctively knew back at the very beginning, is that as mothers, we are offered front row seats to witness the transformation of a tiny seed into a mighty oak.

We are ​given the privilege as mothers ​to assist these leaders of tomorrow on their own journey. And if we are honest, if we are really honest, being a mother has very little to do with us. Being a mother is about learning how to surrender, how to let go.

It is the ​earthly opportunity to experience the divine. To love a creation so much that it hurts, so much that even before you have met them you would be willing to sacrifice your own desires for what is best for them. Being a mother is about allowing ​autonomy​.

I remember the moment.

The moment when I knew ​she was on her way for me​.

That I was the only mother she was intended to have. I was getting into the car to go to an appointment and all of a sudden I began feeling this swirling energy around me. And I saw images of my child growing up, happy.​ They were images of her with me and my family. Learning about our family history, hearing our inside jokes. I could feel it.

She was coming to be raised by me. And ​I cried​ with relief and happiness.

No one that ever saw us together could deny​ our purpose in each others lives.​ We were destined for each other. We were just what the other needed. And it has been an honor. Witnessing her life. Simply an honor.

Motherhood is difficult when we become caught up in the ​outcomes​ of our children’s lives instead of the ​journey​.

Motherhood is about ​surrendering​. We are teachers guiding these young souls on their paths, we are students learning about the world and ourselves through them,

But as we teach and learn, we must surrender, and the best way to do this is to simply offer ​unconditional love​ to others …and to ourselves.

In recent years when my second and third pregnancies arrived I didn’t question who their mother was. But I also didn’t forget that they were arriving to ​fill their own destiny independent from me and it remains my honor to witness their paths.

 

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