I felt the cold blade slicing through my abdomen and fear welled up inside my chest.  “I can feel it!  I can feel it!”, I yelled in panic before I went to a padded pink fluffy world.  I was safe here.

Ten years ago my oldest daughter was born under bright blinding lights.  Weighing less than 2 pounds, she fought for survival.  She was born to save my life, in more ways than I could imagine at the time.  I haven’t told much of this story publicly before.  After all, few people, especially moms to be, want to hear a horror story.  The thing is– it now feels like I’m telling a love story.

It is a story about love in a family, unconditional love for another human and love for ourselves.  As I write this, tears of gratitude fall on my worn yellow legal pad.  How lucky we are both to be alive and doing so well.

I attached the plastic cup to my breast as the large blue machine started to hum rhythmically.  I saw the white liquid working its way through plastic tubing to a small bottle.  Still unable to nourish my daughter directly, I thought about how things had changed.  I thought about giving up my science career to care for myself and my new child and how this meant I was a failure.  I thought about my frustrating, freaky body which wasn’t working the way it was supposed to.   As I looked over to my tiny daughter lying on the bed, tears of grief started to fall.

After feeding her from a bottle, I unwrapped her from her tight swaddling which helped her feel safe and contained.  I lay her small, warm, naked body on my bare chest.  I felt the rapid heartbeat from her warm wrinkled body.  This was the beginning of our bond, our healing, our connection and love as mother and daughter.  We needed each other.  As her heart rate slowed and breathing relaxed, I felt the sweet dreamlike state of being connected to myself and to her.  In this moment everything was love.

Little by little she taught me how to love and forgive myself and my body.  I learned how to listen to my body and to hers.  I needed this catalyst to reconnect to my deep self, my soul.  I learned to love this body of mine that has always done exactly what it is supposed to do.  When did I go from feeling sorry for myself to being the luckiest person on the planet?

I sit by the fire, snuggled between my two daughters.  They read voraciously, as I write.  I feel our heartbeats and breathing slow as we become connected by the field.  In tune with each other, all is love in this moment.

Anu Gupta is an endorsed mind-body coach, former academic scientist and parent, who loves to help people access the power and information within their bodies, emotion, soul, and mind.  Check out her blog at www.triplepointcoaching.com