The transat

We are over halfway there, today is day number 10, only 840 nautic miles to go. Its funny how seasons in life work. This is indeed the season- the Sea Son for us before we meet our son out of the womb. As I reflect on the journey I can’t believe I am saying this but there is nothing I would change… this journey which I would say began when I first met Pierre, was initiated before time, and the journeying itself maybe started when we moved onto the « Now » in July has been an inception, an eclectic baptism of sorts. 
When we started the physical trip to Martinique in December I was so angry that we were departing so late, so concerned with fear over the birth of our son, wanting to build the perfect nest in Martinique for our Baby. I have finally realized that the nest is not a perfect home, a neatly organized nursery, the perfectly laid out birth plan, the perfect birthing room and circumstances; but the nest is Pierre and I; it is our love, our marriage, our little family. Even greater than that the perfect nest is this great consciousness that hold us all so tenderly by tiny grand wings we cannot see. 
I am in love with my Husband more than I ever thought humanly possible, I am in love with my Son, with life, with the ocean, with Mother Earth, with the Mystery. 
This whole trip has been one big letting go, releasing myself into the moment whether it be uncomfortable or pure gold; to Be.


It’s been hard, terrifying, painful, emotional, intense, and solidifying. We love our families but for both of us, we’ve had to set boundaries with our families to create our own. I am so grateful for the time my Father spent with us on this journey, such special moments, but it was time for him to leave us and return to his life in the States and it was time for Pierre and I to finish the journey as our little new family. This last « souffle d’aire » to arrive in Martinique needs to be for us, for our dreams; for our vision as parents, for our new life. I have never heard anyone talk about this process as a psychological step but for us it seems like going through a whole phase of cleaning and separating out again to become new parents. The cutting of old umbilical chords to be able to celebrate with our Son his unique chord. We arrive in Martinique hand in hand in hand, Pierre, our Baby Boy, and Momma Me.


And so, back to this Sea Son, Pierre and I seem quieter, we have an adorable German crew member with us, he is bursting with life and energy and ideas and loves talking. He is an amazing cook and its been the first time in the journey that I have not battled gravity, waves, Braxton Hicks contractions, and falling pots to make all the meals. He and I share in this task, and what a relief it’s been. But still I see both Pierre and I sneaking off into parts of the boat to listen to the waves, to sit with each other in silence and hold hands, to quietly feel our Son move, to talk about the future with stars in our eyes, it’s the Sea Son before birth. A hilarious type of nesting but one that suits us. Our Son is so brave to choose us as parents. In this material world of order, control, and consumption most pre-birth preparations are largely focused on material preparations and I am so grateful we have this gift of true internal nesting, a spiritual voyage to be ready to meet this Wonder. Our Baby rocks back and forth in me, in a liquid Sea, his Papa and Momma are living a largely similar experience, we are rocking back and forth in Momma Earth’s great uterus; together the three of us living this experience of wonder. 


We love you so fiercely and deeply already our little Wonder Boy…