miracle mothers

There’s a beautiful, heart wrenching photo I have of the day I got to finally hold my son after his accident. It’s my personal “Madonna and Child” photo. I couldn’t hold him for 2 or 3 days after he went into the hospital. Before then, I just stood, helpless, watching others take the wheel, resigning to the fact that they knew how to save a life more than I did. Awing at the medical miracles they were performing.

I asked them timidly, in a whisper, with my voice shaking, “Can I please hold my son"?” I was almost begging, feeling like in that hospital, it was time when I had to ask permission from strangers to interact with my child. After all, I didn't know how to save a life.

I remember only being able to touch him lightly, the tangible representation of the fragility of life. Weaving my fingers through wires. Shifting among tubes like I was dancing with a jellyfish.

And then I held his body. It felt like I was holding a BODY, not a baby. In hindsight, I can see I was holding a very injured child that was being kept artificially alive in that moment-so it was true.

But, when I put him back in that bed, he was my little boy again.

There was no medical shift that happened, they didn’t give him a new medicine while I was holding him, nothing changed on the EKG, he didn’t even open his eyes. But he got what he needed for his body to keep fighting, for his soul to get enough juice to power the machine. He got his mother. I possessed an innante knowing within in my body that NO ONE else has-what created and nurtured the very spark that created his life to begin with.

A mother is the only person on this earth who is witness to their child’s creation.

Me holding him was such a quiet, subconcious, power move of, “you knew how use what you were given to turn two cells into a whole damn person. Now there’s an exponential amount of cells that you have to nurture and you have to do it from the outside-the literal cord is cut. Find that energy that initiated the spark of life and send it to your son”. I had no idea I did it that day, but I harnessed what created his life to begin with and used it to give it back to him. The best visual I can offer is the scene in Twilight where she becomes a vampire-his body got reignited while he was still.

In my dreams and meditations, I imagine Him during those hospital days, his spirit detached from his body (as I imagine it is for most people in comas). Talking to me, yelling, “if you don’t pick me up soon, the connection will dissipate, I'll have to leave now”

Mothers are magic. I don’t care if you look in the mirror and see a trash mother, a drug addict, a failure-you posses a magic in you for your child that no one else even has a possibility of obtaining. It will exist until the day you leave this earth. There is not a power on this planet that can take that from you no matter what has happened. Its the power of creation. And when you have a doubt about who you are, when you feel weak, find that teeny place that creates, that power-its already proven its existence the moment you became pregnant-even if they are no longer with you through death, adoption, or forced separation.

In a meditation, he showed me exactly what that spark felt like. It was so powerful that I only got to feel it for a split second or it would have been too overwhelming. And when I gave it to him, I was actually able to access it myself that day. Its probably why through all of this I didn’t leave this earth with him. I might have even saved a few people around me too.

Mother’s ARE the miracles.