After our five-day stay in the hospital, in which we were surrounded by a bubble of care, support, resources and very kind nurses, my husband and I headed home with our little one.  She was 6 pounds, 9 ounces at birth.  Tiny, frail, dark-haired, fragile.  We could hold her whole body in the palm of one hand.  Her miniature, wrinkled face looked confused, unhappy, unsettled.  I could feel her uncertainty, her anxiety at being back in a body.  She was clearly not sure she wanted to be here.

And it began to manifest physically, through serious feeding and sleeping issues.  From birth, B. was too weak to nurse properly, though we didn’t realize it until after we got home.  It’s so very difficult to know how much milk your baby is getting when you breastfeed, especially when you’re both so new to all of this.  The lack showed when she began to lose weight that first week instead of gaining, as they are supposed to.  She went down to a little over 5 pounds, which was terrifying.  She was miserable, starving but not strong enough to get the milk she needed, and despite many lactation consults, would not latch properly.

She cried all the time, barely slept, fussed and fussed, and we couldn’t figure out how to soothe her.  Nothing worked, and I knew her misery was both physical and spiritual in nature.

When we began to bottle-feed her, she nursed hungrily, constantly, making up for lost time.  Milk is much easier to get from a bottle than a breast for physically weak babies.  She soon began to put on weight, though she remained small and somewhat frail for weeks, well under the 50^th percentile for babies her age.  She was not a hearty infant by any means.  I felt that was very symbolic of how she felt about being back in a body.

Her sleep remained fitful, and by the second month she was regularly having what were clearly nightmares, where she would wake up wailing in terror rather than because she was hungry or needed changing.  I could hear the difference in the pitch of her cry, and when I’d rush to pick her up, it would take quite a bit to anchor her back into the present and calm her down.  A lot of Reiki, rocking and soothing words were needed to help her re-center after each nightmare.

Seeing her repeatedly go through this broke my heart, but I was assured by my guides and Heath that it was what needed to happen – her soul wanted to purge a lot of the trauma energy she’d brought forward very early on, when she would be too young to remember it in her waking hours.  The nightmares occurred at least twice a week for nearly a full month and a half before subsiding.  By the end of her third month, they were gone.  I have a feeling they will return when she is about 3 or 4, which is when I feel the next wave of purging will occur, and by then she will have the preliminary language to start processing what she remembers.

With all of B’s health issues, my energy was solely focused on her in those first three months.  However, at the same time my own body was struggling to recover from the emergency C-section, and I had a host of complications from the unexpected major surgery.  I was surprised at how difficult it was for me to heal and recover given that I’ve always been strong and healthy, but a medium friend of mine reminded me that my body was actually purging an enormous amount of toxic energy:  B’s immense fear and anxiety all through the pregnancy.

Because my body was a physical vessel for her, it was also an energetic holding cell for the toxic energy she was carrying with her during the pregnancy.  As a result, I needed a great purge after she was born and it manifested through complications in my own healing from surgery.  It took me much longer than normal to recover from my C-section, and it wasn’t until mid-January that I felt up to leaving the house for any extended period of time, nearly 12 weeks after she was born.

In the bigger picture, I think it was set up this way on purpose, because those first three months were just B. and me, cocooned in our home during the cold winter season, snuggled together, healing and bonding.  That concentrated alone-time was much needed for both of us, and I believe it truly helped her to fully transition into this life.

At the end of January and the start of B’s fourth month, there was suddenly a huge shift in her energy.  It was as if she had finally decided to stay here, to anchor into her body and into this life.  Her energy felt lighter, she wasn’t having nightmares, she was a healthy weight and she began to take an interest in the world.  She began smiling and giggling, interacting and playing.  She was noticeably much happier in general.  Much of this is biological and developmental, but for her in particular, I could feel a bigger shift on a spiritual level.  Something clicked into place, and I can’t describe the relief I felt.

Little B. is now a very sweet-tempered, easy-going baby.  She is highly observant and I can tell she is constantly reading energy, but she also connects with people and the world around her with openness, curiosity and joy.  She can see many things we cannot, which doesn’t surprise me.  She plays with invisible beings all the time, and it brings her such happiness.  She is always giggling and babbling, strongly focused on and reacting to a corner of the room or the ceiling, and that makes me smile.

When little B’s fears and reservations finally subsided, a huge weight lifted from my heart.  My baby girl was here to stay, committed to once again live on this planet.  Committed to healing from old traumas, opening to new experiences and contributing to the world with all the gifts she has brought with her this time.

I cannot wait to share this life with her, to watch her grow and develop and heal and flourish.  I am, and always will be, so very honored to be her mother this time around.