10 рисунков, напоминающих женщинам, прошедшим кесарево, — вы крутые!

Кэти Аткинсон из Нью-Мексико рисует картины, чтобы напомнить мамам, которые прошли через кесарево, что их опыт материнства особенный. Она по себе знает, как непросто проходит выздоровление после подобных операций, и своими рисунками хочет поддержать женщин.

«Мамочки-кесарево — это для вас. Надеюсь, вы знаете, что круты. Вы настоящие бойцы. Вы храбрые и сильные, ****** [офигеть] какие сильные», — говорит Кэти.

На одной из ее картин у девушки шрам, а над ним надпись: «Чудо случилось здесь».

 

Cesarean mamas- this one’s for you. I hope you know that you are worthy. That you are a warrior. That you are brave and powerful and strong as f✨ck. I hope you know that birthing your baby on an operating table makes you no less of a mother. No less of a goddess. Your birth story is holy and that beautiful scar on your belly is sacred as sh✨t. You are worthy of praise and celebration, honor and admiration. I hope that you know it was worth it. Knowing this does NOT mean you can’t mourn your dream. It does NOT mean “you and your baby are safe- that’s all that matters!” It does NOT mean you can’t wish things had gone differently. But I hope that underneath it all, you can find beauty in what was. What is. Your baby. Your birth. Your strength. Your healing. Your story. Your journey wasn’t easy. Perhaps it unfolded much differently than you had hoped- perhaps it shook you to your core and left you feeling the immense weight of a “what if” and “why”. Perhaps you’re still wading through the heavy emotions of disappointment, anger, and grief. Perhaps you always will. But whatever feelings you hold in your heart and in your womb, I hope that you can look at your scar and say “Hell yes, it was worth it. And hell yea, I am worthy” 💛💛💛💛 *this post was written for mamas who might be struggling with an unexpected or undesired cesarean birth. I recognize that there are mamas that choose to have planned/elective cesarean births who might not resonate with the message in this post. I honor them as well – as I honor all mothers, all womxn, and all beings.

Публикация от Catie Atkinson (@spiritysol)

 

Ahhh Spring. You might just be my favorite season of all. Since we’ve been in the Southern hemisphere enjoying summer, I haven’t been feeling the spring energy (I’m working my way backwards through the seasons lol.) But I’m excited to get home and tune into this beautiful season of growth and new beginnings. For the past 6 months, I’ve been doing lots of deep healing work. Exploring my relationship with self care and self, releasing a lot of the stories and baggage I’ve been dragging around, transforming thought patterns and behaviors that no longer serve me, and learning to nourish myself on a deep level. Basically tending the garden of my soil–turning over the soil and planting new seeds. To celebrate this new growth and my commitment to self care in the year ahead, I’m going to be diving straight into a spring health reset with a beautiful community of mamas. We’ll be flooding our bodies with powerful plant medicine and supporting one another as we nourish and transform ourselves on a cellular level. I’m soooo excited to get back to my green routine after 3 months of living on rice and mangos. ( Shoot me a DM if you’d like to join us- there’s still time to jump in! ) I’m so excited to see what blossoms and blooms this year!!

Публикация от Catie Atkinson (@spiritysol)

 

Channeling this calm, quiet energy amidst the chaos and noise of Lima. We’re in transit, visiting family for a few days before we head back to the States, and I’m in that funky in-between state. My mind is swirling- reflecting on our time here and preparing for what’s ahead, and my heart is feeling all those mixed up, feely feelz that come with transition. Can someone write a book called “How to Survive Life as an Empath” please? ’cause hot damn this sh*t is hard. I want to swallow up the suffering of the whole world sometimes. The forgotten children, and the abandoned babies, and the desperate mamas , and all the animals living tragic lives on the streets. It’s hard for me to see this level of poverty and pain up close and not crumble beneath the weight of it. It’s hard for me not to see my own children in the eyes of every kiddo on the streets. And when I see that– when I imagine my own children suffering– I want to scream until my heart bursts. And then, as if drowning in empathy wasn’t enough, I always find a way to walk my mind deep into the heavy waters of guilt and self loathing. Because I’m not doing enough. Because my privilege is too immense and I want to rip it off my body so that I don’t have to carry the truth that I, by the simple act of existing as I do, contribute to the suffering of others But…. a burst, broken, shattered heart won’t do much good, so I’ve learned to breathe my way through these feelings and find my center in gratitude. I won’t allow my empathy to drown me, nor will I allow myself to close off my heart and not feel anything. So I walk into the flames. I look straight into the eyes of the mama begging for change on the corner. I see myself in her eyes and ask that she be free from suffering. As I inhale, I breathe in the sharp truth of how I contribute to her pain. As I exhale, I ask for forgiveness. And then I gather the hot flames of anger, guilt, and grief engulfing my body, and I pull them into my heart center. The heat that threatened to burn me down is now a glowing ball of strength and intention. I will do more. I will do better. I will transform suffering– beginning within myself.

Публикация от Catie Atkinson (@spiritysol)

 

Bloom where you are planted, sweet child. Dig your roots deep into the earth and know that you are held. Stretch your arms high up to the sun above and feel the warmth. Feel the love around you, within you, and blossom. …………………. Sometimes I feel like my heart might break. There is so much pain and hardship around me. So many kiddos with hungry bellies, who know suffering and sacrifice that no child should ever have to face. Everything they could be, everything they ARE– trapped by the fierce force of poverty. Not enough food or space or opportunities. The heavy weight of many mouths to feed resting on their young shoulders. And yet still they bloom. They blossom here, amidst the concrete and broken cars and piles of trash– laughing as they tumble past after a soccer ball, with no shirts and dusty feet and smiles that melt my heart. And as I watch them play, I hold back tears and remind myself to breathe. I breathe into the crack where my heart has broken open, letting the anger of injustice and the pain of compassion wash over me, letting my heart crumble from the weight of feeling it all, letting the tears fall. Crying like a baby on my father in law’s front steps – wishing I swallow the pain of all the world’s forgotten children. And when finally there’s nothing left to feel– no more pain or angry tears– I find the quiet knowing that everything is OK. In the place of deep sadness, I find trust. Our world is broken and full of pain, but the children still bloom. They laugh and play and find beauty in an old soccer ball. And I will fight with fury for a brighter future for them- but I won’t forget to stop and watch them bloom along the way. ………….. I’m working on a little something called “art and meditation for womxn who care deeply” – be sure to sign up for my newsletter if you want it in your inbox! (Sign up box on my website- link in profile)

Публикация от Catie Atkinson (@spiritysol)


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