This is a beautiful essay that is so spot-on. Society puts all these false constraints on each of us -- we have to be the best athlete, artist, writer, intellect, etc. But in reality, love is all that truly matters. If a person is able to love, it is everything.
Jeannie, wow. Just wow. The way you bring me into that sacred moment with you and Sarah, when you let yourself grieve, and the alchemical transformation that happened there. This is the essence of being human and letting ourselves feel the feels.
I often work with clients who have been avoiding, shoving down, distracting themselves from their feels. And here, you allowed yourself the space to cry. To just be with the emotions. And what resulted was the precious gift that lies buried inside the pains of the wound. Love. Humanness.
Wow, TeriLeigh, I don't know what to say. This is such a powerful comment you left today and such a high compliment that I am left humbled by your kindness.
The word "alchemical" struck me in your response, because my neighbor (who is a healer, certified in reiki and hypnotherapy and other practices) just told me two days ago, "You have the gift of alchemy." I was like, "What?" She said, "You have the ability to transform energy." I am still processing that.
I guess I am sharing that with you here, only to say that I have known from a very young age that I was spiritually gifted, but I have not always known what those gifts are or how to channel them properly.
With Sarah's entrance into my life and our family, I have confronted some hard truths about myself--the kind of person I thought I was was not congruent with who I actually was--and it's taken me over ten years to continue to siphon with clarity that truth into a distilled form that you read in this piece.
Thanks so much for being here with me in this space!
I agree with your neighbor. you do have the gift of alchemy. I’m eager to get to know you better. As I was reading this piece I kept thinking to myself “She applied for the Creator Retreat!!!!”
Wow, and I didn’t realize you had a connection to Alex Lovell, either. He is one of my favorite newer Substack writers. Thank you, TeriLeigh! It will be truly lovely to connect with you on Zoom in a couple of weeks. Looking forward to it.
Alex is one of our Creator Retreat Team members. He will be teaching in April, and will be providing Yoga Nidras and mentorship throughout the program. I adore him!
Every day, I marvel at how fulfilling it is to be with other creative and sensitive souls like you, Alex. I have been starved for so long to be among others who think and feel deeply, who see the world a little differently than most people, who are kind and compassionate and genuinely want to forge meaningful connections with others. It is a privilege to be here with you and all the incredible people I've met on Substack.
I feel the same, my friend. To think that for a long time, I somewhat abhorred technology. Yet, through technology, I have discovered a deep connection and camaraderie. I’m truly grateful!
What an amazing piece of writing, written straight from the soul. No empty sentiments but profound belief in the specialness of each person but particular ly your child and your experience of your heart and mind being pierced with unconditional love for her. Love is the most powerful force in the universe and you have conveyed and articulated this so well. Thank you. I wish every blessing for you and your child and family She has made you awaken to what really matters and what transforms life
You are right, Margaret, that Sarah has helped "awaken to what really matters and what transforms life," as you wrote that so well. I think being a mom in general has done that for me, but Sarah's entrance into our family made me take a hard look at myself and my insecurities and prejudices and a lot of ugly things I didn't want to admit back then. Now I am better able to articulate these honestly, because I have had ample distance from their raw and jarring nature.
"We can foster a sense of worth in what we know to be true—that we are good, that what gives life meaning is to love and be loved." Thank you for this beautiful writing! You encapsulate love wonderfully!
"What would love have me do?" Such a powerful question, Jeannie. And I think its relevant in every interaction we have with our children, no matter their intellectual or physical abilities. There are so many times I would be the parent my daughter needed if I just asked that question before something wholly unhelpful spilled out of my mouth. Thank you for reminding us to lead from the heart...always...and to trust that love is enough.
It's the hand in hand you wrote about so well yesterday, Jess. Speaking the heart language is not easy. I think it takes time for a heart to soften and settle into a response that asks, what would love have me do?
Time and loss of control. For me, it’s been those moments where the pretense of action has been taken away from me that have been most instructive. When love IS the only action available to me, I’ve leaned in to that to survive. Now that I’m past the next most immediate crisis, I want to expand that muscle so I can act with love intentionally and purposefully.
Reading this, my dear Jeannie, I kept thinking how Sarah couldn’t have been born to a better family, all the while remembering all the beautiful wisdom (through love!) that Sarah teaches you (and me, by reading you!) every day. And at the same time, all that you felt when she was born is so human!! I hope you have “forgiven” yourself. I put forgiven in “” because there is nothing to forgive! Thank you for sharing your journey with us. I keep learning from you.
Thanks, Imola. Actually, I do feel like self-forgiveness is a real phenomenon for me. I do try to work on it, because I have become accustomed to so much self-deprecation and self-berating that I've had to recognize the times I am running an interior narrative that beats me up, then stop myself and allow some compassion to move through those negative core beliefs. It's a primary re-programming, I would say, of how I use my time in therapy. So, thank you for that. And thank you always for being here in this space with me, showing up and leaving comments that shine. You are a rare light in this world.
I felt this so much behind your words dear. I wish I could give you a big loving hug right now. You do more than just all right. Trust me. I marvel at your courage and generosity every day. And I’m happy to be here with you, shining with you :) what a gift! 🤗🤗🤗
Reading your words over the many writings you have shared, has connected your heart to mine. I so identify with the feelings and love behind your words. I find that when I make myself vulnerable (when it is safe),I am more in sync with all of life. You and Sarah have opened me to a vast new way of seeing beauty. I have 2 children and my journey has also been o e of unexpected learning. Thank you so much.
Wow, Susan, I am glad to hear that you are finding a "vast new way of seeing beauty." Beauty is a complicated and weighted term, I think. There are so many facets to it, and it means something different to everyone. The commercialized perception of beauty has skewed our ability to see it for what it is--that is, to see a person as they are, for who they are, without any masks or facades or veneers.
You are right to say that vulnerable sharing must be done in a safe context, and I am also relieved to hear you feel that this is a safe space to be vulnerable, since that is one of my primary aims of the use of my Substack.
This essay resonated with me. Before I had kids, I often said I could handle anything except developmental/intellectual delays. Of course, man plans and God laughs, or whatever the expression is. Our first adopted child has a spread of those, which led to homeschooling - something I did not envision or want for my life at all. And yet, he's also so kind-hearted and generous, I am often challenged by my own perception of what I used to deem "worthy." It's made me come to terms with what I value versus what is truly valuable.
I love how you wrote that you're challenged between what you value and what is valuable, Tiffany. I've had to do this, too, multiple times since becoming a mother. I didn't realize when I was young that I had so much deconstructing to do in my life. Being a mom has forced me to confront parts of myself and certain long-held beliefs that kept me afraid and paralyzed rather than free and curious.
Oh, my friend, this is an essay that I have read three times before I have found at least some words to express how I feel. (I still don't think I have the right words 😉)
The raw honesty about your initial fears and anxieties surrounding Sarah's birth brought tears to my eyes. It's so easy to get caught up in societal expectations of 'normal,' and your story is a beautiful reminder that love transcends all of that.
I wonder... What if our obsession with intelligence is actually a way of avoiding deeper human connection? We value intellect, but maybe we're missing out on the profound lessons that love, especially love for those who challenge our preconceived notions, can teach us.
Anyway... your story is truly a testament to the transformative power of love, and it makes me wonder if we've been looking at 'humanity' all wrong.
I think you're on to something when you say you wonder if our obsession with intelligence is a way of avoiding deeper connection. I think that was very true for me. Intellectualizing is a default defense mechanism for me - to overexplain or provide more info than necessary. It's much harder to collide with another person's vulnerable, tender places than to discuss ideas and thoughts. I suppose that is what Sarah has taught me, one of many things: that I needed to stop forcing myself to conform to the ideal, as a person and a wife and a mom. Lots to think about. Lots to unravel!
I find that intellectualizing tends to be a default defense mechanism for me, too. There are many different facets. I once had a colleague share that they knew I was uncomfortable in workplace situations because my vocabulary would shift from a "normal" person to a "PhD" vocabulary. And it took me a while to understand that I did that because it was a safe place.
It was interesting because, after years of therapy, I discovered there wasn't ever a "superiority" issue. It was more so, a place I knew front, back, sideways, upside down, and more... and if you couldn't engage with me there, then that was okay; I was at least safe.
Being comfortable with ourselves and another person's vulnerable, tender places is the hard work. 🩵
Oh wow, more I can relate to here. I don't have a PhD, but I have a Master's degree, and when Ben and I were newlyweds, he grew irritated with me often, saying, "I want you to talk to me like your partner, not like I'm your client in counseling."
Thank you Jeannie for sharing such a candid moment and expressing what many many mothers of atypical newborns, feel and think. And feel so so guilty. But there is no reason for guilt. ❤️❤️❤️ the little baby moments are what saved me during Lily’s life.
I always love talking about her :) Lily was my rainbow after a long brutal storm. That I had spent years weathering. When she arrived, it was obvious from the first micro breath she was able to take, my baby was NOT normal. Her eyes bugged and looked like a frog. I couldn't handle the sadness that filled me just seeing those. She had many, many more deformations that made it clear to anyone who saw her that she was not normal. But the normal parts she did have... I cherished. Her unladylike farts and belches are so very normal for a baby. Her little huffs and then movements that, while very small, were still very much normal. Her scrunched nose when a nurse was fussing over her, her destain for being cold, her love of being nakey, and her smell. She SMELLED like a newborn. Like a baby. For years after she died, I clung to ANYTHING that smelled close to her sweet, rain-like baby scent. Like you, those moments gave me hope. Helped the sun shine. And kept me going on the darkest days when the sun never even came up.
That is beautiful, Taylor. Thank you for sharing Lily with me. You are right that finding those “normal” aspects of a baby is really grounding. I felt that way with Sarah, too, many of the same things you mentioned: gassiness, scrunching up her nose, giggling. There were “normal” moments, and I think we all need something familiar when we are in the thick of something foreign and terrifying, as it sounds like you had to navigate with Lily’s fragile life. My heart hurts to know that you lost her. But you are also honoring her by sharing stories about her. I will hold what you shared with tenderness today.
Thank you ❤️❤️ my soul momma (TeriLeigh) nudged me towards your work so I could learn a bit more about ways to expand my writing, by others who have experienced similar situations to mine, to elevate the memoir im writing :)
Oh wow, I am so glad to hear that, Taylor! I am also writing a memoir on motherhood and how it shaped my identity. Happy to support your writing journey.
"The power of a heart that reflects unconditional acceptance is, what I then realized, precisely what the world needed most." This line floated into my heart and rose to a smile. Thank you for sharing your tender love and acceptance for Sarah.
Jeannie,
This is a beautiful essay that is so spot-on. Society puts all these false constraints on each of us -- we have to be the best athlete, artist, writer, intellect, etc. But in reality, love is all that truly matters. If a person is able to love, it is everything.
I think that's true, too, Beth. I'm so glad that is what you gleaned from what I wrote, because it took me so long to figure out something so simple.
Jeannie, wow. Just wow. The way you bring me into that sacred moment with you and Sarah, when you let yourself grieve, and the alchemical transformation that happened there. This is the essence of being human and letting ourselves feel the feels.
I often work with clients who have been avoiding, shoving down, distracting themselves from their feels. And here, you allowed yourself the space to cry. To just be with the emotions. And what resulted was the precious gift that lies buried inside the pains of the wound. Love. Humanness.
Thank you for this.
Thank you for you.
You are an amazing writer and a brilliant human.
Wow, TeriLeigh, I don't know what to say. This is such a powerful comment you left today and such a high compliment that I am left humbled by your kindness.
The word "alchemical" struck me in your response, because my neighbor (who is a healer, certified in reiki and hypnotherapy and other practices) just told me two days ago, "You have the gift of alchemy." I was like, "What?" She said, "You have the ability to transform energy." I am still processing that.
I guess I am sharing that with you here, only to say that I have known from a very young age that I was spiritually gifted, but I have not always known what those gifts are or how to channel them properly.
With Sarah's entrance into my life and our family, I have confronted some hard truths about myself--the kind of person I thought I was was not congruent with who I actually was--and it's taken me over ten years to continue to siphon with clarity that truth into a distilled form that you read in this piece.
Thanks so much for being here with me in this space!
I agree with your neighbor. you do have the gift of alchemy. I’m eager to get to know you better. As I was reading this piece I kept thinking to myself “She applied for the Creator Retreat!!!!”
Wow, and I didn’t realize you had a connection to Alex Lovell, either. He is one of my favorite newer Substack writers. Thank you, TeriLeigh! It will be truly lovely to connect with you on Zoom in a couple of weeks. Looking forward to it.
Alex is one of our Creator Retreat Team members. He will be teaching in April, and will be providing Yoga Nidras and mentorship throughout the program. I adore him!
That's so exciting!
TeriLeigh is truly one of the planet's most wonderful human beings. I'm so grateful and privileged to have met her. 🩵
Jeannie is simply amazing. Even after just a few months, she has crafted a special place in my heart through her writing and interactions.
Every day, I marvel at how fulfilling it is to be with other creative and sensitive souls like you, Alex. I have been starved for so long to be among others who think and feel deeply, who see the world a little differently than most people, who are kind and compassionate and genuinely want to forge meaningful connections with others. It is a privilege to be here with you and all the incredible people I've met on Substack.
I feel the same, my friend. To think that for a long time, I somewhat abhorred technology. Yet, through technology, I have discovered a deep connection and camaraderie. I’m truly grateful!
What an amazing piece of writing, written straight from the soul. No empty sentiments but profound belief in the specialness of each person but particular ly your child and your experience of your heart and mind being pierced with unconditional love for her. Love is the most powerful force in the universe and you have conveyed and articulated this so well. Thank you. I wish every blessing for you and your child and family She has made you awaken to what really matters and what transforms life
You are right, Margaret, that Sarah has helped "awaken to what really matters and what transforms life," as you wrote that so well. I think being a mom in general has done that for me, but Sarah's entrance into our family made me take a hard look at myself and my insecurities and prejudices and a lot of ugly things I didn't want to admit back then. Now I am better able to articulate these honestly, because I have had ample distance from their raw and jarring nature.
"We can foster a sense of worth in what we know to be true—that we are good, that what gives life meaning is to love and be loved." Thank you for this beautiful writing! You encapsulate love wonderfully!
I'm so glad you feel that way, Nancy. Thanks for being here with me today!
Gorgeous pictures of Sarah. Xx
Thank you, Suzanne.
The love and wisdom here ♥️
Thanks, Patris.
"What would love have me do?" Such a powerful question, Jeannie. And I think its relevant in every interaction we have with our children, no matter their intellectual or physical abilities. There are so many times I would be the parent my daughter needed if I just asked that question before something wholly unhelpful spilled out of my mouth. Thank you for reminding us to lead from the heart...always...and to trust that love is enough.
It's the hand in hand you wrote about so well yesterday, Jess. Speaking the heart language is not easy. I think it takes time for a heart to soften and settle into a response that asks, what would love have me do?
Time and loss of control. For me, it’s been those moments where the pretense of action has been taken away from me that have been most instructive. When love IS the only action available to me, I’ve leaned in to that to survive. Now that I’m past the next most immediate crisis, I want to expand that muscle so I can act with love intentionally and purposefully.
I am sure that the question of what would love have me do is core to getting us to become fully human. That seems to be the call of all of us.
The core of being fully human and fully alive is "the call of all of us," I think, Susan, as you said so well!
ALWAYS & FOREVER YES‼️❤️
Reading this, my dear Jeannie, I kept thinking how Sarah couldn’t have been born to a better family, all the while remembering all the beautiful wisdom (through love!) that Sarah teaches you (and me, by reading you!) every day. And at the same time, all that you felt when she was born is so human!! I hope you have “forgiven” yourself. I put forgiven in “” because there is nothing to forgive! Thank you for sharing your journey with us. I keep learning from you.
Thanks, Imola. Actually, I do feel like self-forgiveness is a real phenomenon for me. I do try to work on it, because I have become accustomed to so much self-deprecation and self-berating that I've had to recognize the times I am running an interior narrative that beats me up, then stop myself and allow some compassion to move through those negative core beliefs. It's a primary re-programming, I would say, of how I use my time in therapy. So, thank you for that. And thank you always for being here in this space with me, showing up and leaving comments that shine. You are a rare light in this world.
I felt this so much behind your words dear. I wish I could give you a big loving hug right now. You do more than just all right. Trust me. I marvel at your courage and generosity every day. And I’m happy to be here with you, shining with you :) what a gift! 🤗🤗🤗
🥰🥰🥰
Reading your words over the many writings you have shared, has connected your heart to mine. I so identify with the feelings and love behind your words. I find that when I make myself vulnerable (when it is safe),I am more in sync with all of life. You and Sarah have opened me to a vast new way of seeing beauty. I have 2 children and my journey has also been o e of unexpected learning. Thank you so much.
Wow, Susan, I am glad to hear that you are finding a "vast new way of seeing beauty." Beauty is a complicated and weighted term, I think. There are so many facets to it, and it means something different to everyone. The commercialized perception of beauty has skewed our ability to see it for what it is--that is, to see a person as they are, for who they are, without any masks or facades or veneers.
You are right to say that vulnerable sharing must be done in a safe context, and I am also relieved to hear you feel that this is a safe space to be vulnerable, since that is one of my primary aims of the use of my Substack.
Brilliant. Beautiful. Really touched me deeply. Thank you, Jeannie. It is love that makes us human.
I'm so grateful it touched your heart, Julie. Thanks for being here!
We are told in Matt 22:37-40 to Love God and to Love one another. Thank you for sharing your journey of Love.
Thank you, Julie!
This essay resonated with me. Before I had kids, I often said I could handle anything except developmental/intellectual delays. Of course, man plans and God laughs, or whatever the expression is. Our first adopted child has a spread of those, which led to homeschooling - something I did not envision or want for my life at all. And yet, he's also so kind-hearted and generous, I am often challenged by my own perception of what I used to deem "worthy." It's made me come to terms with what I value versus what is truly valuable.
Thank you for writing this, Jeannie.
I love how you wrote that you're challenged between what you value and what is valuable, Tiffany. I've had to do this, too, multiple times since becoming a mother. I didn't realize when I was young that I had so much deconstructing to do in my life. Being a mom has forced me to confront parts of myself and certain long-held beliefs that kept me afraid and paralyzed rather than free and curious.
Oh, my friend, this is an essay that I have read three times before I have found at least some words to express how I feel. (I still don't think I have the right words 😉)
The raw honesty about your initial fears and anxieties surrounding Sarah's birth brought tears to my eyes. It's so easy to get caught up in societal expectations of 'normal,' and your story is a beautiful reminder that love transcends all of that.
I wonder... What if our obsession with intelligence is actually a way of avoiding deeper human connection? We value intellect, but maybe we're missing out on the profound lessons that love, especially love for those who challenge our preconceived notions, can teach us.
Anyway... your story is truly a testament to the transformative power of love, and it makes me wonder if we've been looking at 'humanity' all wrong.
Beautiful.
I think you're on to something when you say you wonder if our obsession with intelligence is a way of avoiding deeper connection. I think that was very true for me. Intellectualizing is a default defense mechanism for me - to overexplain or provide more info than necessary. It's much harder to collide with another person's vulnerable, tender places than to discuss ideas and thoughts. I suppose that is what Sarah has taught me, one of many things: that I needed to stop forcing myself to conform to the ideal, as a person and a wife and a mom. Lots to think about. Lots to unravel!
I find that intellectualizing tends to be a default defense mechanism for me, too. There are many different facets. I once had a colleague share that they knew I was uncomfortable in workplace situations because my vocabulary would shift from a "normal" person to a "PhD" vocabulary. And it took me a while to understand that I did that because it was a safe place.
It was interesting because, after years of therapy, I discovered there wasn't ever a "superiority" issue. It was more so, a place I knew front, back, sideways, upside down, and more... and if you couldn't engage with me there, then that was okay; I was at least safe.
Being comfortable with ourselves and another person's vulnerable, tender places is the hard work. 🩵
Oh wow, more I can relate to here. I don't have a PhD, but I have a Master's degree, and when Ben and I were newlyweds, he grew irritated with me often, saying, "I want you to talk to me like your partner, not like I'm your client in counseling."
Ouch.
OOOOOO.
I’ve heard this a few times: “I don’t need to be therapized.” Haha!
Thank you Jeannie for sharing such a candid moment and expressing what many many mothers of atypical newborns, feel and think. And feel so so guilty. But there is no reason for guilt. ❤️❤️❤️ the little baby moments are what saved me during Lily’s life.
I appreciate you saying that, Taylor. Tell me more about Lily, please, if you’d like.
I always love talking about her :) Lily was my rainbow after a long brutal storm. That I had spent years weathering. When she arrived, it was obvious from the first micro breath she was able to take, my baby was NOT normal. Her eyes bugged and looked like a frog. I couldn't handle the sadness that filled me just seeing those. She had many, many more deformations that made it clear to anyone who saw her that she was not normal. But the normal parts she did have... I cherished. Her unladylike farts and belches are so very normal for a baby. Her little huffs and then movements that, while very small, were still very much normal. Her scrunched nose when a nurse was fussing over her, her destain for being cold, her love of being nakey, and her smell. She SMELLED like a newborn. Like a baby. For years after she died, I clung to ANYTHING that smelled close to her sweet, rain-like baby scent. Like you, those moments gave me hope. Helped the sun shine. And kept me going on the darkest days when the sun never even came up.
That is beautiful, Taylor. Thank you for sharing Lily with me. You are right that finding those “normal” aspects of a baby is really grounding. I felt that way with Sarah, too, many of the same things you mentioned: gassiness, scrunching up her nose, giggling. There were “normal” moments, and I think we all need something familiar when we are in the thick of something foreign and terrifying, as it sounds like you had to navigate with Lily’s fragile life. My heart hurts to know that you lost her. But you are also honoring her by sharing stories about her. I will hold what you shared with tenderness today.
Thank you ❤️❤️ my soul momma (TeriLeigh) nudged me towards your work so I could learn a bit more about ways to expand my writing, by others who have experienced similar situations to mine, to elevate the memoir im writing :)
Oh wow, I am so glad to hear that, Taylor! I am also writing a memoir on motherhood and how it shaped my identity. Happy to support your writing journey.
"The power of a heart that reflects unconditional acceptance is, what I then realized, precisely what the world needed most." This line floated into my heart and rose to a smile. Thank you for sharing your tender love and acceptance for Sarah.
I'm glad it floated to your heart, Dawn. You're a gem!