Big Mama Confessions: No.1 đ
The Loneliness They Called Hormones...
My postpartum experience has been a WILD ONE thus far and I have plenty of stories within this one topic. So, weâll start here with a couple and we can keep the party going in The Booth.đđč
Before my journey even began â
I lost my grandfather, a.k.a Poppy, two weeks before my son was born.
So, I was already grieving a life before running into the grief that would be the death of my past self foreverâŠ
Like, he was fine at my gender reveal.
Laughing, slightly present, not fully himself but he just said, he was tired.
And then â just like that â he was gone.
Nobody even told me he was sick, all in the name of, they were âprotecting my pregnancy.â but what nobody seems to get is that protection, actually feels like grand theft.
I didnât get to prepare.
I didnât get to say what I needed to say.
I didnât get to hold that grief the way it deserved to be held.
I just had to cry it out, compartmentalize and prepare for labor.
The way I look at it now â
I Literally Lost One Angel to Gain Another.
Now, I was in labor and thereâs literally no turning backâŠ
I still had an all natural birth plan and I am proud of that, even though I wanted a homebirth and was convinced out of it. đ
Anywho, that first few weeks after coming home is still a blur. lmao.
I breastfed, so it was mostly a recurring sequence of me eating, feeding and sleeping. I didnât have much innergy for or interest in anything else.
Since the day that he came home, I was extremely selective about what innergies I allowed around my son.
No, I donât want no visitors; idgaf your relation.
No, I donât want your âmotherlyâ advice about taking care of the child that I knew before you.
No, I donât want your fake assistance that ultimately leads to me doing shit I donât wanna do.
JUST LEAVE ME AND MY BABY THE FUCK ALONE.
Everyone besides his father consistently got on my fucking nerves, I couldnât help it and didnât care how it made anyone feel. If you didnât like stay away from us, which is what I wanted anyway, so perfect. lmao
Another thing I deplored was when people said anything negative about my babyâs appearance.
I would always ready for all the smoke when someone mentioned his color, his hair or his size because watch how you speak over my starseed.
I am ALWAYS going to protect and defend my jit and I donât care how anyone feels about it.
I donât let people call him âbadâ or âsensitiveâ â none of those demeaning labels that people put on children without thinking about how they might feel or what they might internalize.
Their connection to Source is ethereal and unimaginable. So just because they âcanât speak your language yetâ, doesnât mean they donât innerstand your cadence and innergy behind it. âïž
Yes, I am âone of thoseâ moms that cares and protects her childâs mental and emotional wellbeing âearlyâ.
They are not possessions or some after thought because they are smaller.
They are Divine Gifts from God.
She gifted us with the greatest responsibility of protecting and guiding HER starseeds until they can do it on their own.
This is why I didnât â and never will â care about how anyone feels about the decisions I make for either of our lives.
I am ALWAYS following God; whether you innerstand or not.
Okay, Back to Postpartum Depression.
The way I feel it materialized for me was through neglect, avoidance, and anger.
No, fuck that â RAGE !
The way I felt so sad and lonely, while everyone around me just wanted the only spirit on this realm that made me feel seen and safe.
My Baby.
The way I broke down and spoke up every chance I got while everyone around reduced me down to âjust her hormones.â
The grief of my Poppy sitting in the pit of my core; untouched, unacknowledged, unnamed â because nobody thought to ask how a woman grieves and gives birth in the same breath.
The rage of realizing that two extremely life-changing events have happened at the same time â and I was expected to perform gratitude for one while quietly burying the other within.
VERY REAL. VERY RAW. VERY REVEALING.
There were more revelations throughoutâŠ
The revelation of the way people truly feel about you after the smoke clears and that pregnant belly is gone or that, youâre now expected to be the most needed but the least cared for by everyone.
Coming to terms with the fact that no woman around me is going to properly acknowledge this process as the sacred transformation it is because nobody had acknowledged theirs.
This is a big one for me: Finding out that everyone who said theyâd be my âvillageâ disappeared â but still expected to be kept in the loop in the name of a false label; Family. Then, remembering â they were never really there for you anyway. You just hoped that you having a child would change their spirit the way it changed yours as you let them back in.
The loneliness. The shame. The dead silence. The grief, underneath all of it.
All of it and more â very much contributed to my final decision to go no contact with everyone connected to me but I went there in Burn Shit Down, so I digress.
BURN SHIT DOWN: A Reckoning & Rebirth Ritual â€ïžâđ„
There comes a point where healing isnât soft anymore.
I wonât lie â the fact that I donât feel safe or comfortable to contact any relative still stings sometimes.
I miss my Poppy in this realm everyday.
but listennnnn, the amount of people that was at my block party of a baby shower vs. amount of people who have truly contacted or checked on me - let alone seen my son, to this very day?! THAT alone confirms everything I need to know.
Back then, I was so confused and didnât innerstand how all this could be but. Now, I know it was one big innergy harvest and Me & My baby were the main course but that might be âtoo deep & woowooâ for some of yall. lol
Nevertheless â
I feel even today, I am still moving through pieces of PPD and PPR.
However, I also feel myself arriving.
Fully & Unapologetically Present.
Stepping into the Big Mama & Ethereal Black Woman I was always meant to become.
So allow me to reintroduce myself â Hi, my name is Paris Abundance aka Ethereal, One of a Kind Big Mama.đ
I am damn great, intentionally unorthodox mama.
A fucking force in this creative entrepreneurship space.
A Black Woman who loves all of herself and is no longer afraid to express it.
Who canât, wonât, and doesnât take no bullshit from anybody.
Whose boundaries are strict asf
and the love for herself and her son is the ENTIRE foundation of it all.
So, it looks like this entry just turned into a Thank You Letter to Postpartum.
Because who I am in the thick of it? THIS PARIS?!
Sheâs literally THAT BITCH; in all contexts of the word!
Sheâs UNAPOLOGETICALLY, UNFILTERED ON PURPOSE AND I LOVE AND ADMIRE HER SO FUCKING MUCH.
I LOVE IT HERE AND APPARENTLY I STILL HAVE EVEN MORE BLOOMING TO DO! So for me, ITâS UPPPPPPPPP! đč
If youâre open â
This space is yours too.
Drop your confession in the comments, The Big Mama subscriber chat or bring it to The Booth where itâs safer.
How did postpartum actually feel for you?
What did it reveal about the people around you?
Who are you now that youâve moved through it?
No performing. No prettying it up. Just the truth. đ€
đ§ Her Channelled Frequency: I Got You by Ciara
Every time I sing this to my son, I can feel and hear God singing it to me. Itâs the warmest, most healing feeling Iâve ever experienced and I thought I would share it with you and your starseeds.
Try it whenever you feel called: Just imagine God is singing this to you and let me know, how you feel afterwards or donât I know it works for me. lol
Reminders from The Stu. đ”đč:
A channelled frequency is just that. So when listening think more experience, moods and senses than the artist, their dealings and backgrounds. For example, how old were you or where were when you first heard the song?
I created a Big Mama Subscriber Chat here in The Stu but weâll dive even deeper in The Booth.đđč EIther way, I am here to read and respond. Just be sure to share with yourself in mind, especially in the Big Mama Chat please. Itâs not as protected as The Booth.
Please only take what resonates, leave what doesnât.
Eye Love You on Purpose, Big Mama.đč