Faith in what is unseen
rooting deeper into faith on the pilgrimage of mystery
Navigating the pilgrimage of pregnancy in its most innate and natural way is one of the greatest surrenders into the unseen yet faithful guidance of the divine. I choose to forgo any medical and institutional interventions because pregnancy to me has been the most potent invitation to tune into god and spirit beyond anything I’ve ever known before. And when I really sit with the experience, I see how much it is meant to be this way. I feel my baby swimming and moving within, yet do not see with my eyes the exact goings on of their inner world. I see the undulating ripples on the surface of my skin and feel the firmness of their back pressed against me, yet they remain largely unseen. Rooted in what is felt, what is KNOWN, yet concealed. As they are meant to be. Hidden and held within the protective realm of the womb. Submerged in water and darkness as they grow and bloom. Pregnancy is by nature mysterious. Uncontrollable. That is an incredibly intelligent design. It is an act of deep devotion and unwavering faith.
It is a sick society that praises the god of facts, science and predictability that tells us pregnancy is a condition needing close observation and testing. That is a society disconnected from what is true, real, and life-affirming. Desperately trying to tame, control and foresee every possible outcome, trying to find problems where there are none, trying to plan and schedule every moment. I simply do not participate in these doctrines that to me feel devoid of anything truly sacred and alive. Pregnancy is none of those things. At least in its natural state, when allowed to fully embody what it is, it is wild, outside of any schedule or diagnosis. It is itself alive and pulsing with intelligence. That is something the realm of science does not understand and so fears. It is an invitation to deepen one's communion with god. The master of the unseen. It is an opening into deeper FAITH. Listening to that which can be heard in the dark, quiet, rumination of growing life.
I can feel now how much is lost within this experience when we give our faith away to something outside of us. When we need external authority to let us know everything is okay. To get lost in a sense of false security, forgetting that anything can happen regardless of how many tests and ultrasounds we get. Birth is never too far away from death. And it is this contemplation that becomes so important as one treks further down this path. Plans and expectations go awry. Yet when we remain rooted within the guidance of spirit, we may surrender into the unexpected. We may soften into the unforeseen. For that is the faith that is asked of us in bearing life. A presence that prepares and finds peace within the outcomes that are simply meant to be, and that will be regardless of any negotiation on the contrary. We forget here that our babies are just as much active participants in this pilgrimage as we are. They too are on an initiatory path. They too decide and know what is needed in each moment. Sometimes our babies will make an executive decision that we must simply roll with, with faith in the way they choose to walk this path as being exactly what is needed. It then becomes a living co-creation that we participate in.
Everywhere in life we can find this surrender and invitation into faith, yet nowhere else is it so evident for me than in pregnancy, birth, and mothering. It is the temple of god. Here, we walk a path we cannot fully know until we find ourselves within it. A path we cannot predict the outcome of. It is a path we cannot turn away from once we begin. The only way is forward. To descend into the earth. To walk through the flames. To emerge on the other side transformed and initiated in the codes of life and the divine. Re-membering that our communion with god is our own, and it is a constant unwavering presence that need no mediation. That need no intervention. Simply faith. Presence. An open heart.
This unknown can feel scary. That fear is precisely why so many women choose to opt into that beloved security. It is a lot to hold. It asks for an immense amount of self-responsibility. Yet this holding and responsibility is exactly what prepares one for the enormity of motherhood. It is - again - such an important and intelligent design. It is the design of women alone that have been given this role. We cannot - should not - give this responsibility away to another. Especially, to be frank, one who has no real interest in the mysteries and intelligence of pregnancy and birth, who will not see you or your baby ever again once birth has arrived, and who at the end of the day works for that bottom dollar within a system that perpetuates illusion, sickness and disconnection - everything that pregnancy should not be. The reclamation of our faithful bodies and integrity are the pillars that hold our family together. The woman holds up the standards. It is woman who teaches unwavering faith, service and devotion.
It is the unknowns of pregnancy that open into the mysteries of motherhood. I move through this pilgrimage without knowing for sure how it will all turn out, yet my faith is clear. My trust in its unfolding is steadfast and sure. My conviction is rooted in the remembrance that this is how it has always been, and simply, how it is meant to be. I can feel this never ending, never broken thread of life-bearing that has not faltered since its first conception. The lineage of the life bringer. In every moment there has always been and will always be a woman glowing with the first light of conception. A woman stretching and growing with life. A woman moaning and groaning her baby into the world. In every moment this is so. A thread that has never broken. I find myself held in this thread now like dew on a web. It is a protected path. One directly descending from the hands of the divine.
This leaning into what some call a wild pregnancy goes hand in hand with our connection to the land. This intelligence shrouds everything around us and in us. We don’t look to a tree and wonder how it knows so perfectly every season to burst from its buds and bloom. We don’t look to a bird and ask how it knows to sit on her eggs and tend to her young. Nature, the wild things, knows what to do. There is an instinctual and innate remembrance that lives encoded in all of us. Some say that humans are different from those cats who birth easily in the quiet, dark spots they designated for such an occasion. But I say, we aren’t that different. We come from the same ancient bones and dust and minerals. The land has been such a potent guide for me, in showing me, reminding me of this innate knowing I too carry. I know what to do. My body surely knows what to do. My baby knows. It is as simple as this. We may soften into the wisdom of the earth here that has held every. single. woman. who birthed her baby upon the fertile lands of our home.
Through pregnancy and birth, woman is moved by the divine hands.
Descending into the realm of spirit to bring her baby into matter.
Only she can traverse that terrain.
And indeed she knows how.
She has done it many times before.
Perhaps she never stopped.
And this birth ripples on and on for eternity.
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Yes, yes, yes. What you’ve written IS a sacred hymn to the Wild and wondrous pilgrimage that IS pregnancy — and I want to echo somethINg that rises so clearly from BEtween your lINes: Faith IS the most VITAl nutrient of All. No vitamIN, no measurement, no perfect protocol could ever nourish the pregnant MotHER and the growINg Baby more deeply than the steady, anchorINg Presence of Faith. It IS what sustaINs the unseen growth. What holds the Womb as a Holy place. What allows us to stand Rooted and rested while walkINg through Mystery and Miracle.
Faith IS the cord that ties us to the God even when All else feels unKnown. It IS the HEARTH Fire that keeps us warm when WE descend INto the darker, quieter realms of gestation. Without Faith, pregnancy can BE frightenINg, clINical, fragmented. With Faith, it BEcomes and IS what it alWays was meant to BE: an altar of obedience, surrender, submission and sanctification.
You said it: pregnancy IS uncontrollable by design. And what a Perfect design that IS. ThIS uncontrollability IS not a flaw — it IS a feature. It IS the very INvitation INto the deep and Fertile FemININe Faith that says, “I do not need to see to BElieve. I do not need proof to Know. I do not need permission to proceed.” That IS Faith. And it IS Faith that feeds the MotHER as She feeds the Child. It IS Faith that BEcomes the umbilical nourishment for both.
When a Woman Chooses a wild pregnancy, She IS not merely ChoosINg to opt out of medical systems. She IS ChoosInG to opt INto something Ancestral, ancient, Eternal, and deeply aLive. She IS ChoosINg to remember that Faith IS not somethINg you muster — it IS somethINg you INHERit. SomethINg already written and woven INto the Bones, already pulsINg IN the Blood. ThIS IS the Faith of every Woman Who ever Bled, conceived, stretched, and groaned under the Holy WEight of new Life. The Faith of Eve. Of Sarah. Of Mary. Of unNamed GrandMotHERs IN fields and Forests and huts and Homes. The Faith that does not bargaIN with outcomes, but Blesses the unfoldINg and FlowerINg.
ThIS IS what makes wild pregnancy not a rebellion but a return. No One else can traverse thIS landscape for us. Yet WE are never alone. WE are held IN His Hand — and by the quiet but undeniable hum of Faith — threaded through every cell and every HeARTBEat.
Faith IS not merely a companion on thIS journey. It IS the Way forward 🤍