wrapping the baby.

I was going to say, 'in swaddling clothes,' but it turns out that doesn't mean what I *thought* it meant.

So: Keep her warm. RESPOND to her needs, *instantly*. HELP her. Take CARE of her.

LOVE her :-)

***
Starting point: Jumping around a way to keep brain occupied?

If you grew up, as I did, using your brain almost like a ‘muscle’ to hang on, literally, for dear life, in a world (family) that didn’t meet *any* of your emotional needs –

If you hung on for dear life as a way to damp out the incessant TERROR

of being abandoned

of being left alone (emotionally) [and? it’s *worse* to be ‘with’ someone physically who is emotionally absent, than to be alone]

of being unseen
unheard
unappreciated
unknown
not understood.

So my theory: As I got older, I began to read *obsessively*. Anything, no matter what, was fair game – cereal boxes, stupid magazines, *anything* to keep my mind from exploring that empty cavity where a LOVING RELATIONSHIP should be.

Now? After all this work?

I’m actually *past* that, somehow – like this big hole in the sidewalk that tugs at me with magnetic force,

yet

I DIDN’T FALL IN!!!!!

Yay, Grasshopper!!!!! :-)

But.

There’s still work to do.

I’m cold, *all* the time. Physically. Have been, for as long as I can remember. Need external heat source – huddle by heaters, sit on top of heat vents – known for it, by anyone who’s known me for any length of time.

Used to think maybe I was part cat (?) kidding – but, really? Only ‘happy’ when warm, or, very best? curled up in the sun somewhere.

My current conclusion (and have felt this way about it for a long, long time)

is that I need someone to HOLD me, LOVE me, in ways my parents never did.

For an adult woman in a male-dominated society?

Well, I’ll tell you, it’s tough.

Because it always becomes sexual, and that’s the *last* thing I need.

So: In the last few days I’ve become aware of it all fitting together, of getting down to that rock-bottom, core, *essential* layer of ‘self’ that’s curled up alone, afraid, and colder than *shit*. Shivering.

But? The FEAR is disappearing. Like a tide slowly ebbing away,

I’ve found ways to ‘stay with it’, with a little help from my friends :-), and an *incredible* amount of resourcefulness on *my* part, (for which I duly thank the Universe for giving me the gifts I have that allow me to do this!)

And now, there’s the little baby, born on a cold winter’s day in February, to a terrified, emotionally (and financially?) ill-equipped mother (quite a common scenario, I’m sure).

She’s shivering before she’s even born, her tiny body flooded with fear hormones.

Her pattern is initiated – but *now*?

We go back,

and gently calm,
and soothe
her.

Little one.

And we talk her down
from the high cradle
on the bare branch

we *protect* her
from the icy wind.

We wrap her in warm blankets
feed her hot soup,
hold her tight.

We tell her: We will NEVER leave you alone again, little one.

And we seek people who *understand* the need for connection,

and ESCHEW those who DO NOT.