Gwynn Raimondi, MA

  • Individual Sessions
  • Nervous System Soothing
  • Newsletter
  • Blog
  • About Gwynn

Wishes and Prayers Answered and Becoming

February 18, 2015 By gwynn

When my daughter was younger she used to wish upon the sun, using the logic that our sun is a star. She would alter the well-known rhyme to “Starlight, star bright, first star I see alright. I wish I may I wish I might have the wish I wish in daylight” and she would make whatever wish her heart called in that moment.

She also prays to the Tooth Fairy. After each tooth lost, all eight now, before we start to read our story for the night, she will quietly lay down on her bed, fold her hands together at her chest, close her eyes and send a prayer to the Tooth Fairy that she not take her tooth, that she understand her unwillingness to let this literal piece of herself go just yet, and could she please go ahead and leave the money anyhow. (If you were wondering, of course the Tooth Fairy always answered by complying).

To date, this sweet girl always asks before she gets a piece of candy or sits down at the computer or to watch TV. She makes sure she is “allowed” and at closing in on eight, I wonder how much longer this will last. How will her way of checking in with us change? When will she stop asking permission and instead choose to ask for forgiveness? How did we ever raise a girl concerned with rules?

Curled up close at the end of the day, or as we are at the sink brushing our teeth or at the breakfast table or randomly in the car she will say “Thank you for being the best mommy in the whole world!”  I’m never sure what I have done to deserve those words, and certainly could give you a long list of things I have done to prove I do NOT deserve those words, and yet she gives them to me, a gift straight from her soul into mine.

I am in awe of this girl child growing into a young woman. I’m not always sure where she came from, and the joke in our family for a long time was we didn’t know who her mother was. Despite all my foibles and outright failures she is a beautiful person, shining brightly every day. I’m honored to be her mama, and I hope as she grows and our relationship has its storms, we both always remember this: She is her own Self—she is not mine even though she came from me, both my body and my heart, and I will always love her and be proud of her, even when I don’t agree with her or her choices.

Because there will likely come a day when she makes a choice that worries me or scares me or worse: reminds  me too much of myself. I pray that I enter those times with grace, allowing her to be her own person, make her own mistakes or even prove me wrong with my worry or fear. I pray I don’t get lost in my own ego and judgement and that I am gentle with her, even more so than when she was an infant, even more so than I am now. I pray I always let her know that no matter what, I am her mama, I love her, and she always has a place in our home.

I pray for a life for her I did not know. I pray for a relationship between us to be one I did not have with my own mother until it was almost too late.

I know in my heart, it will be different, she and I will be different, our relationship has already been different these first seven plus years. And I breathe in the truth that I let go of the stories of how children should be raised and how girls should act and held onto my own truth of what it means to be a mama, what it is to raise a child with love and respect and compassion, what it means to raise a girl into a woman.

And so my prayers may already be answered as I look over at this beautiful girl, engrossed in a game of creation. Her gangly legs bent and her posture that of a teen already. I say another silent prayer: please slow down, please let me savor these between moments a bit longer.  Because the truth is,  it all goes too fast, even when we are paying attention.

her own self

Did you enjoy reading this?  Then I invite you to subscribe to my weekly love letter right here.

 

Filed Under: A Mama's Life, Becoming, being & becoming, Connection, healing, Mamahood, Mindful parenting, Mindfulness, Motherhood, Personal growth, Personal Myths, Softness, Transformation, Unbecoming Tagged With: being present, mamahood, motherhood, opening yourself to the possibilities, soul work, telling my truth, transformation

Back into the world

April 4, 2014 By gwynn

Like other ghosts

Filed Under: Becoming, Being, Divine Feminine, rebel, Transformation Tagged With: becoming, being, being enough, being present, growth, healing, opening yourself to the possibilities, soul work, telling my truth

A Blessing on the Eve of Being and Becoming

March 20, 2014 By gwynn

May you see the wonderous beauty that is you.

May you sparkle and twinkle and glitter and glow.

May you dance and twirl and sing and giggle.

May you look at your younger Self, and deeply know her, allow her to be truly seen.

May you uncover the many facets of who you are now, seeing the rainbows glittering in the sunshine within you. 

May you breathe in the truth of your dreams, seeing the future you and knowing she exists inside you now.

May you learn to flow with the ocean waves of life, riding them with grace and confidence, knowing that this wave too shall pass in its time.

May you find your voice and speak your truth.

May you see the light in others and know it is, in part, a reflection of you.

May you deeply see and be seen, listen and be heard, witness and be witnessed.

May you step into the journey of being and becoming with an open heart, knowing each iteration of you is all of you: past, present and future.

May you allow the tears to flow, the laughter to burst forth.

May you come into circle with others on similar yet different journeys, together supporting and loving; being and becoming the beautiful rebels and saints you are meant to be. 

personal revolution

Filed Under: 42, Becoming, Being, Blessing, Join the revolution, Personal growth, Programs offered, Release, Transformation Tagged With: beautiful life, becoming, being, being enough, being true to yourself, connection, finding joy, growth, listening to our soul sing, soul work, telling my truth, transformation

It feels very, very good

July 3, 2013 By gwynn

Toes in sand 2

Filed Under: Truth Tagged With: telling my truth

Surrender to Hope

February 11, 2013 By gwynn

I carry a pain with me that I haven’t shared here before. It’s private, it’s been a personal struggle for me and my family. It has caused many tears. Many tears. My heart aches and yearns. Several OBs, a midwife, an acupuncturist, friends, family have been through this trial with us.

It’s the trial of infertility.

We’ve been trying to grow our family for over three years now. I had a dream of having three children, each two to three years apart. We have one child who will be turning six soon. She is beautiful and precious and truly a gift. My heart aches for another.

When I hear people complaining about their children, my heart breaks. It breaks because of my longing and because these others in those moments are unable to see the beauty they have.

It can be hard to be joyful when yet another friend becomes pregnant with her second, third or fourth child. It can be hard not to grieve for myself and for the loss of the life I had envisioned.

I’ve  heard stories of women who tried for ten years to conceive and then finally did. I’ve heard stories of families who gave up and adopted and while in the adoption process became pregnant.

These stories do not bring me solace or hope. They bring up more pain and more questions of Why Me? I look at people on the street screaming at their children or at the library when I father tells his son he can’t play on *that* computer because it’s too “girlie” and I wonder why the Universe has deemed them fortunate to  have that child, but not me.

Not me who puts all my heart and soul into being the best mama I possibly can. Me who every day searches for opportunities to grow, to become a better person – all so that my child will have a healthy family, a healthy childhood.

Why me?

I had an ultrasound last week to look at my uterus and to see if the surgery I had in September and the hormone treatments I’ve been doing since then have shrunk it enough so that an egg could implant.

The answer was yes. My uterus is back to a “normal” size. My body has healed this part, and now to move on to step two of what feels like a million step process to get us to the point to make a decision about conceiving.

I’ll turn 42 at the end of this year. Statistically this is not a great age to be birthing healthy babies. I know the odds are not in my favor. I know I have other health issues that may play a role in making it even more not in my favor.

And yet.

I have hope. It’s hard to surrender to this hope. It’s hard to dive into it and open my heart to the possibility of even more loss, even more heartache. I don’t know if I can manage to tell my daughter again that her baby brother or sister has died inside mommy. I don’t know if I can explain again how I don’t know why the babies keep dying. I don’t know if my heart can take the pain of losing another child.

And yet.

Today I looked at due date calculators and thought about baby names, even though the “trying” process hasn’t even started. I have hope.

I’m scared. Scared to release my fears. Scared to dive into Hope. Terrified to surrender to Trust and Faith. Knowing it will all be okay.

Knowing our family will expand. As it is meant to. In it’s own time.

Letting go of the illusion of control. The tears flow. My body shakes.

I can breathe deeply into my pelvis now. This is something I couldn’t do a year ago. I can live in my body. I am able to focus on my present moments more and more. I see the beauty that is my life and sometimes, for a moment or two, I feel at peace with the way our life is, with no longing or yearning for what it isn’t.

And yet.

I had a vision over a year ago of our second child. Beautiful little toddler, standing next to my daughter. I hold that vision in my heart. I hold it knowing that other child is meant to be with us.

I’m in this process of surrendering to Hope. To Faith. To Trust. 

A practice. It is all a practice.

And when our second (and third?) child comes to us, it will be in her or his own time. A lesson taught to me by our daughter, that I didn’t quite learn.

Now I release the fear. I surrender to Hope. 

Filed Under: Family, healing, Infertility, Surrender, Uncategorized Tagged With: healing, health, heartache, hope, infertility, loss, miscarriage, motherhood, surrender, telling my truth, vulnerability

  • 1
  • 2
  • Next Page »
  • Collective Relational Trauma
  • About Gwynn Raimondi
  • Let’s Work Together
  • Blog

Gwynn Raimondi, MA, LMFTA * Copyright © 2023