Ugh, the body. Reading this month's topic for Creative Everyday is one that inspires a kind of dread in me. I have written a bit about my body on my blog, but I haven't much explored it creatively in art. Taking a picture of my pregnant belly this weekend was a huge step. I can only say I used to believe in the human body, in its ability to birth children naturally, to self-regulate, that is until my daughter died in me at 38 weeks for no medical reason. Oh, I still believe in those ideals for
other people, just not for me. Then I starved my body after Lucy died in an attempt to get to my pre-baby weight, and gained weight. I ran and got larger and larger. It seemed every time I tried to make a step towards healing with my body, I was pushed back into hatred. I was finally diagnosed with Hashimoto's disease. Then I was pregnant again, and my body changed again. I feel the toll of three babies in three years on my bones, in my joints, in my rolls of fat...I can only say, when my body failed me on such a profound level, I began to see it disconnected from my soul. It was an enemy. Even when my husband touched me, I recoiled. I cried. I flew into a rage. This body doesn't belong to me. It belongs to a traitor.
I am 27 weeks pregnant with a little boy. I have tried to connect with this baby and this pregnancy, but I have confronted physical limitation after physical limitation. Last night, my midwife called to tell me that I have had a higher than normal protein reading, which means that I could be verging on a condition that could affect the baby. I just wanted to regale my body with the angriest lecture I have ever given. And now, here I am in my new studio, the January sun shining in through the window, and I decided to make some peace with my body. I did that by making a new meditating mama. Carving my body into a sculpture, molding it into calm and peace. I feel good, emotionally, physically...taking this process one step at a time.
Meditating Mama, Red Clay. 01.20.10
