Role Reversal
Happy birthday dear daughter, dear guide
How do you celebrate the birthday of a child that is no longer physically on Earth with you? A child who has departed from his or her human body? How do you count the years when one of you exists on a plane where time is meaningless, where there are no more growth charts, no graduations or other human milestones to mark?
On October 9, 2009, at approximately 3:09pm, I gave birth to one of my guides in human form. At the time, I was blissfully unaware that she was one of my guides. I welcomed her as my second child, my first and only daughter, and I called her Maisa Rose.1 I remember very clearly her entrance into this earthly plane. Unlike my two boys who arrived crying, she arrived in a very serene manner, with a contemplative look as if to say, “Really? This place again?”
I nurtured and loved her with every fiber in my being. I changed her diapers, helped teach her to walk, read, cook our favorite recipes, and practice yoga. I envisioned a long life together, one where I would watch her grow up, graduate, have a family of her own if she wanted, and choose life path that would bring her joy and purpose. She had and still has so much to offer the world. We spent many evenings talking about history, astronomy, science, math and music. I was excited to see which area of interest she might eventually end up pursuing.
I had no idea that after just 14 short years I would no longer be guiding Maisa here on her earthly journey. Suddenly, without any proper preparation or warning, the roles are now reversed. Maisa is now on the other side, guiding me.
I will not sugar coat the reality of traumatic child loss. This past year has been absolute hell for our family. Actually, descriptions of hell sound fairly nice in comparison. The reality of traumatic child loss is even worse than I could have imagined, and I had some time to imagine it. The complexity of grief, and the healing of the trauma part cannot be rushed or glossed over with toxic positivity or memes. It needs to be acknowledged and witnessed with loving care.
My grief, like my love for Maisa, like Maisa herself, is part of me. We move forward together. We are a package deal. If you are looking for a feel good story, you may need to keep looking because this one is messy, real, and still in progress. I make no promises. What I do promise, and what I have always done as a mother, is to love my kids fiercely, no matter who they are, what they do, where they are - and now, no matter what form they are in.
From the moment Maisa left her physical body, I knew that she was not really gone, and like any good mother I immediately started looking for my child. She showed me that she is still here and continues to show me on a regular basis that she is with me. Is it how I want her or my life to be? No, of course not. My heart is forever broken, yet it is also broken open. You may find me on the bathroom floor sobbing, or you may find me speaking of rainbows, but you will never know which one it is going to be. I am an emotional roulette wheel of sorts. Enter at your own risk, breaking the caution tape.
All of this to bring me back to my original question which is, how do I deal with October 9th from this point forward? How do I address the day that I gave birth to Maisa, a day that is now the source of both joy and sorrow? Well, I am going to continue to honor it, just like I am going to continue to honor her. As far as I am concerned, we are still continuing to learn and grow together. I always knew she would teach me, as all of my kids do. I just had no idea how much she would teach me and all of the ways that she would do it.
The way that Maisa and I relate to each other and how we communicate has changed. Our relationship is different and is evolving. Our love, however, is no different. Our love has not changed. I love her just the same as I did a year ago. Actually, I love Maisa even more than I did a year ago. I love Maisa endlessly, unconditionally, to infinity and beyond a million trillion times. I will love her even more next year, and I will be a wiser and better person because she exists.
Happy 15th Birthday to my sweet baby girl Maisa, to my teacher and spirit guide, to my love, to the amazing and otherworldly being that I am grateful to call my daughter. I will honor and cherish you for all of my days, and even after that. I will never stop looking for you, learning from you, connecting with you in every way possible, and trying to make the world a better place in your name.
Some still insist it is Maisa Rhonda.
Thinking of Maisa today, and sending you my love. ❤️
Happy birthday sweet Maisa. Thank you for sharing your experience with us, Samia.