Liminality and limitations

On expansion and existential crises, among other things

Happy new year, dear souls.

I come to you from the liminal space that is pregnancy, a space between what was and what will be. It’s like the week between Christmas and New Year’s for months. It’s hard to know what’s next or what will come when an entirely new human being is inside of you, waiting to make her¹ entrance. It is equally hard to make sense of what was, when nothing will ever be quite the same again.

I came across a newer work called Matrescence by Lucy B Jones. It is the only word I’ve seen so far in my mothering journey that actually accounts for all that happens and is happening in growing, birthing, and becoming a mother.

“Unlike other cultures, which treat becoming a mother as a major, traumatic life crisis with special social rites and rituals, Western societies have been failing to recognize matrescence as a major transition. A transition that involves a whole spectrum of emotional and existential ruptures. A transition that can make women ill. A transition in which the mother – as well as the baby – could be celebrated. We’ve been failing to care for mothers – or for one another – very well at all.”²

I’m also reading Stephanie Duncan Smith’s Even After Everything, in which she talks about “daring to expand,” and how – like in pregnancy – this usually involves a stretching and tension, uncomfortability at best and excruciating pain at worst, and it makes sense that we often resist it. “And yet,” she explains, “Expansion is the way of growth.”

I think “Expand” is my word for the year.

I’ve always appreciated this term in relation to choosing to “start a family” over any other terminology, as it rings the most true at a soul level. These days, sometimes I feel a bit crazy for consenting to add a third child to the mix – a decision that will no doubt add more work, chaos, and intensity to our barely-keeping-our-heads-above-water lives. And yet, Z and I couldn’t help but also wonder what else saying yes to this might add to our lives – what joy, connection, deepening, growth, and goodness might be possible in widening our own circle of love and intentionality? What kind of generational patterns and chains could be break to cultivate a sense of safety and connection – not only for our kids, but also for ourselves in this family we built?

And yet, admittedly, being pregnant can feel like the furthest thing from expansion initially. I am a shell of who I am as much of my body and brain space is taken up by another living being. Jones speaks to this in her book as well:

“Two hearts under one skin. It was disconcerting sharing my body with another, being with her own drive, her own future, her vulnerable reality. I was confronted for the first time with my fundamental lack of control. I didn’t learn anything about these emotional or existential aspects of pregnancy in the week-by-week books or apps, which mostly discuss the size of the baby to fruit – kiwi, banana, pineapples. Even though most pregnancies involve a level of stress and emotional disturbance, such as anxiety, depression, insomnia, and impaired concentration, the information in pregnancy emails was about baby outfits and how much coffee one can drink. The psychological destabilization that came with being inhabited by another person, was left unaddressed.”

The narratives around modern motherhood are maddening in this sense, as most material you will find discusses frivolous add-ons that are not totally necessary. It’s evident that capitalism has seeped into the consciousness of every mom-to-be, convincing us it’s mostly about gear to get and paint to pick. Instead, what if we talked about the crippling levels of fatigue and fog, how difficult it is to get out of bed, the mind fucks of excitement to meet the baby alongside existential dread of how hard life might get upon her arrival? Not to mention how difficult it can be to feel like you don’t even belong to your own body in the process – all the drooping, sagging, secreting, swelling, huffing and puffing of just trying to exist. It’s all “worth it,” yes, but it still wears. It’s a beautiful and wonderful mystery, and it still sucks the life out of me.

In reflecting on 2024, I’m acutely aware of how the first half of the year was an intense season of healing for me. As a strange “benefit” of Unemployment, I qualified for Medical Assistance for the first time and felt the invitation to let that be the doorway for care I couldn’t usually afford otherwise. I attended weekly therapy, biweekly acupuncture, pelvic floor PT, restorative yoga, chiropractic, and more to address and unearth much of what was causing my body and brain to be hypervigilant and stuck. I also discovered the body-and-soul integration through dance, an unexpected spiritual practice of letting go and releasing. It was so much work to find so much that worked. In the final weeks before finding out I was pregnant, I also completed a 6-week program that my body was ready to receive at that point – with meal plans and workouts that meant more stability and restoration and feeling good, finally!³

And, ironically but very much not, I got pregnant the week after completing this program. I joke that as soon as I felt good in my body, it got me pregnant. But I truly believe because I felt good, I could get pregnant. It’s not lost on me the tender connection and care I had given my own body and mind for this kind of expansion to be possible. To make or create anything in love, there is an opening and trust – certainly with a partner but also with oneself. I don’t regret all that work only to feel terrible pregnant – I’m so glad I did the work so that I could carry and embody all the compassion and attunement I’d learned in the months before.

The second half of the year has been a flurry of larger transitions for our family and moving through my own feelings around what I can expect from myself in this season. The truth is, being pregnant with two little kids already has been the most tiring season of my life. I have had to move through many moments of disappointment and discouragement because I cannot do what I wish I could, my perception and sense of self butting up against hormones and nausea and depression and exhaustion. And yet, I am forever grateful for the work I did earlier in the year to relate to myself differently in this season, to show myself self-compassion and validation for the things I feel rather than beat myself up or self-sabotaging. To speak words of understanding and kindness over/to myself, staying with the unpleasant feelings and parts of me I’d rather escape. This is so hard | It makes sense that you feel overwhelmed / It’s OK to wish it was different / I honor all that you’ve carried today / It feels difficult because it is difficult / This feeling won’t last forever / You will get through this / Even here, you can rest.

We are almost one month out from Baby Girl’s due date and it’s a mix of emotions. There are many things we need to get done around the house⁴, as well as many ways we need to get ourselves ready for birth and the fourth trimester itself. The last birth was a doozy and I’ve done a lot of healing work around what came up during and after labor. I am more committed than ever to attuning to my body, trusting her and the baby, as well as leaning into pain and tension that comes with this expansion. Moreover, I am committed to being equal parts strong and seen, supported and stable and “holding it together.” I won’t pretend like we won’t need help in the coming days and months ahead. With that, I don’t fully know the etiquette around Baby Showers a third time around (only had one for my first?!), and I wouldn’t expect anyone to kick in and make that happen – but we have identified some things that would help us in this transition to a family of five. Would you consider coming alongside us in this way? Plus, I’m bucking up against the modern motherhood narratives and including quite a few items to help aid in my healing and transition. ;) All aboard for Help Mama Heal!

I would also love and welcome any words you’d speak over these final weeks of waiting and wrestling and wondering. I am in the midst of identifying specific words or mantras for this year anyway, and it would be a gift to hear what you are sensing for me/us, too. We are equal parts overjoyed and overwhelmed.

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My favorite books of 2024:

1. Field Notes for the Wilderness -

Sarah Bessey

Required reading for all of us out here making sense of our faith when we’ve had to untangle and unwind from so much of what it’s not. Sarah is the most tender and loving guide in this process, no doubt. I made my way through this one slowly and will be returning to a million underlines and notes as I reflect on its impact this year and beyond.

2. Rewilding Motherhood -

Shannon K. Evans

Enlivened by this read. Such a wise and wonderful understanding of what it really means to mother and be Mothered (with or without kids). A reimagining of self and God that fully integrates the more mundane and difficult with the transcendent, painting a more compelling picture of how to BE feminine amidst/beyond the milieu of confusing expectations or BS we’ve internalized otherwise. I’m going to give this one to all my mom friends for real. So freeing and energizing and inspiring for every-day, figuring-this-life-out kind of book.

3. The Book of Longings - Sue Monk Kidd

This book absolutely melted me, softened all the edges, mesmerized me. An incredible novel, sure, but such a thoughtful and historically-accurate plausibility that actually blew my mind. I found myself in Ana. I found Jesus in her depiction of him. I found the Spirit in her trust in Sophia. Beautiful, gorgeous, gut-wrenching writing. Just, wow.

4. Woven (Nurturing a Faith Your Kid Doesn’t Have To Heal From) -

Meredith Miller

An excellent book and resource for those of us trying to navigate this world of faith with gentleness and respect for our own kids’ processes. Such a helpful metaphor, too, of how webs are build of strands – some that withstand the test of time and tension, other that experience a break and are never meant o be built out the same. There’s so much freedom in figuring out what knowing God looks like for your family and your specific kids. I love the grace that comes with reading this, nothing pressure-filled or too high to obtain. Just plain, approachable, relatable ways to find and introduce a God who is kind, patient, able to handle all our questions and concerns and feelings. I loved this book and found it very healing for my own inner child, too. The subtitle says it all.

5. Good Inside - Dr. Becky Kennedy

The absolute best resource for both parenting and reparenting ourselves in the process. Dr. Becky is the Patron Saint of millennial parents who were mostly taught the opposite. Cycle-breaking content here. Will read again for sure.

Honorable Mention: What Kind of Woman -

Kate Baer

Just stunning. Her poetry is outstanding.

My favorite new music of 2024:

Music that most moved and met me this year.

Restorative Resources:

• My favorite yearly reflection tool as you look back on the year before and consider the year ahead

• I often riff off of these questions, too, as I “discern my next right thing”

• Speaking of, this podcast episode helped me as I began thinking through 2025

• This book I was talking about – loving the audio version because her British accent just warms my soul

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As always, thanks for reading along with these periodic updates and connections. As with many areas of my life right now, I long for this to be more than what it is but am also doing what I know to be most true still:

It’s the showing up
that shows us
that it’s enough

Much love,
Liv

1. Yes, it’s another girl!

2. If you’re interested, here’s a good article summarizing its content

3. “Weight loss programs” are not on-brand for me, yet this one really worked. I got connected to a personal coach through a creative community and friends I trust, and it was a major game-changer for me in my physical well-being at that point in time. Had I begun my healing work with it, I’m not sure it would have helped in the same way. But having had months of pelvic floor restoration, EMDR and IFS work and embodiment practices to reset my nervous system a bit first, my body and mind were more ready to be supported and strengthened by this. Happy to share more if you’re interested. Not an endorsement, just a real-life experience.

4. Should I consider a “Nesting Party”?! I love this idea, but it feels a little overwhelming to pull off