WINTER SOLSTICE 1995 - Issue Number 34
On Becoming a Grandmother
by Sally Van Vleck
. . .in early November, 1995
Some of my loyal friends have been urging me to write a sequel to my "butt story" (see Synapse #27), so here goesI hope it's okay to change topics in a sequel, as my current dilemma doesn't involve my butt.
My 17-year old daughter is about to have a baby. When I first heard the news I experienced great waves of anger first at the "Right to Life" movement for infiltrating my impressionable daughter's mind with slogans like "abortion kills babies" (who wants to kill a baby?). However, Jessie insisted the decision was hers. Next, I was pissed off at the doctor who perscribed an antibiotic that coun teracted the effects of the Pill (take note you Pill users!) Finally, I was mad at the Universe and the Goddess for laying this extra burden in our laps. Jessie's too young to be a mother, and I'm not ready to be a grandmother!
Then it hit me: this is what pro-choice means. Choice. The choice to give birth and raise the child herself (with a little help from her friendsand family). I have long been an advocate for a woman's right to choose to end a pregnancy. Now I was being confronted with the other side of the coin.
Once she made her decision, I realized she was going to need my full support, especially since she was no longer in a supportive relationship with the father. At first I went through the motions, calling and arranging an appointment with a midwife, buying prenatal vitamins, helping Jessie improve her dietbut my heart was heavy. I carried a lot of sadness and anxiety during that early stagesadness for the loss of Jessie's youth and freedom, sadness for her in having to take on the task of being a single parent, worry over how she would make it financially, concern that her personal goals and dreams would go unfulfilled.
Gradually my grief was replaced with acceptance, and a growing respect for Jessie. From the start she was thoughtful, making lists of the necessities that she and her baby would require. She began to prepare for motherhood with a seriousness and focus that astounded me. Little by little she began to gather baby clothes, bouncy chairs, car seats and crib sheets, outfitting a nursery for her baby that was ready months before her due date. She read books on labor and delivery and parenting; she attended prenatal, Lamaze and breastfeeding classes, all the while keeping on a strict and healthy diet and getting good exercise.
Now, a few days after her due date, she waits with more patience than most adults. While I feel jittery and anxious, she is calm and grounded. I admire her for choosing a difficult path because it felt like the right choice for her, and then embracing her decision whole-heartedly and diligently.
As we wait for the baby to arrive, I wonder: how will it be in the delivery room, watching my daughter in pain, struggling to release this child? Will I be able to help, or will I fall to pieces? And, at times, I can't help but recall the disturbing statistics I have read and listened to at environmental conferences regarding the effects of toxic chemicals on developing fetuses. Invisible chemicals that surround us in daily life and are creeping up the food chain. They cause developmental problems in wildlife, and some studies show that they are affecting human fetal development as well. The term "future generations" takes on a new relevancy as I look at my young daughter trying so hard to make everything perfect for her new baby.
No matter what happens this baby will be loved and well cared for. I have been quoting the African proverb "It takes a whole village to raise a child". We are fortunate to have a "village" of friends and family to help us. Knowing the love and support that we are blessed with in our "village" makes me ache with sadness for all mothers and fathers who are struggling to bring up children without adequate help and resources.
. . . December 8, 1995
Anders Mathew Olson was a month old yesterday. He was born on the full moon with a team of 6 loving women, his father and a wonderful midwife. Jessie was magnificentconcentrating deeply on her breathing with each contraction, bravely enduring discomfort and pain, following the midwife's instructions carefully, using her breath and body to move the baby out into the world. She was unselfconscious as she took a hands and knees position and her low, gutteral grunts as she pushed him out were primal and awesome. As soon as he was born it was my job to take him from the midwife and give him to Jessie. At that moment, when I lifted this new life into my arms and handed him to his mother, I was overcome with joy and the awesome miracle of birth. As I watched Jessie's face looking down at her son, I knew the road they faced together would be difficult, but at that moment it didn't matter. The room was filled with shouts and sobs and exclamations of joy and wonder. And, thanks to some great video work by Neahtawanta residents Jackie and Ann, we have a record of the event for Anders to see when he's able to comprehend it.
I am filled with gratitude and awe. He is healthy and thriving. And Jessie continues to exhibit great responsibility and maturity as she cares for this new life. She is calm and serene, nursing and nurturing her baby with patience and grace. Being a good mother is not age dependent.
I take care of Anders each day while Jessie is at school. We gaze at each other in wonder. As I rock and hold him, I practice a Buddhist breath meditation called tonglen breathing, which is used to help alleviate suffering in the world. On the inhale I take into my heart all the discomfort, hunger and pain of the babies in the world who are neglected; on the exhale I breathe out the love I feel for Anders and spread it to all babies who are suffering. I don't know if it works, but it makes me feel less helpless.
Becoming a grandmother has renewed my commitment to work for a healthy and peaceful worlda world where every child is loved and nurtured, a world free of dangerous chemicals and violence. I believe more than ever ina woman's right to chose.
Tonglen Breath
Tonglen breathing is a Buddhist technique that is used to help us overcome resistance, surrender and end suffering. It can be used in many different situations. To begin, we need to have an open, awakened heart which is called absolute boddhichitta. Next, we visualize breathing in dark, heavy negative energy and breathing out white, light and cool energy. Once this is established, we visualize a specific situation involving suffering, say a hungry child. We breathe in the hunger, pain and discomfort into our heart, and breathe out comfort, nurturing and love. Finally, we extend the practice out to all children who are suffering in the world, breathing in their pain and breathing out healing love energy in whatever form is appropriate. In addition to spreading goodness and love out into the Universe as when we pray, the tonglen practice has positive effects on the practioner, as Pema Chodren describes: "We shield our heart with an armor woven out of very old habits of pushing away pain and grasping at pleasure. When we begin to breathe in the pain instead of pushing it away, we begin to open our hearts to what's unwanted. When we relate directly in this way to the unwanted areas of our lives, the airless room of ego begins to be ventilated. In the same way, when we open up our clenched hearts and let the good things goradiate them out and share them with others that's also completely reversing the logic of ego, which is to say, reversing the logic of suffering."
For a more detailed description of tonglen breathing, and a lot of other good stuff about living compassionately, see "Start Where You Are", by Pema Chodron; Shambala Publications, 1994.
Return to the Index of Synapse 34, Winter Solstice 1995