Grieving is a part of transitioning

It's been almost two weeks since we've been back from India. For those of you who don't know, my husband, son and I spent three months in India, most of that time in one place, simply living. In some ways it feels like we were just there, and in other ways we feel further away, and more settled here. The integration period has been tough, especially for Julian and myself. It showed up at first as physical ailments - yeast infection for me, sleep schedule totally off (Julian was up from 1230am to 7am one night!), diarrhea for me, constipation for Julian, nasty colds for us with congestion that doesn't seem to end,throwing up... you name it, we've been through it in these two weeks! I think our bodies are starting to settle, and for me I'm noticing more emotions coming in. To live in one place for three months, in particular one town for almost 2 1/2 months, your body, your being are acclimated to that place. You leave that place, where you are very unplugged (I had no smart phone, checked my internet like every 2 or three days, walked everywhere and didn't drive a car), where it's 90 degrees and hot and humid to a place where it's 70 degrees cooler, you drive to get places especially when cold, you have a smart phone, internet at home, you can feel the energy of being plugged in, of a culture that's constantly go go go. And you took three flights to get back, one of which was 16 hours... needless to say, it's taken some time. It's still taking some time. And did I mention I'm almost 8 months pregnant? Getting back on my yoga mat as a student has been a great help. I've taken 4 classes in these two weeks (would have taken more but we spent 5 days visiting family in NY and PA) and just breathing and moving my body or being still and being in community has helped immensely to ground me again, to let me feel what I need to feel, and to continue this process of integration back to our home, our life here. In many ways it helps that our lives here are in transition. For one, a new baby is coming the end of April (that's my due date at least) My husband is starting his own business and looking for a new job. I am not working, taking a break from teaching or working in general - something I have done, well never. Not before I left for India at least. And my son will be two this Saturday and he is such a little boy now - talking in full sentences, making me laugh and smile and giving me new challenges as well. I think because we are in transition we can't see what the future will look like, but we're living our way into it. And that helps after leaving the lives we had behind to take this trip. We are different yet we are the same. I've never felt more close to my family and vulnerable in a way that allows me to really lean into them - to put them first - to realize how grateful I am for them - my husband and son in particular, but my extended family as well. We are all more mature in a way that allows us to be more ourselves. More of myself means things I perhaps haven't shown before or allowed to unfold. Mainly my vulnerability. I was realizing tonight that the longer we spend here the more we'll forget of our time in India, in particular those 2 1/2 months we spent in Varkala making friends and sharing our lives daily with these people. I think Ian and I will remember more than Julian, but we too will forget names, faces, sounds, smells. Julian mentioned a person the other day who worked at our hotel in India and Ian and I thought "Oh yeah, him" meaning we had already forgotten somewhat, but perhaps Julian had not. It's possible he will remember more than we think but over time I do think it will fade. I found myself grieving over all this knowledge because in a sense it's like they have all died. Now I'm an adult and I know that's not the case, and I can keep in touch with some folks over the internet thanks to technology today, but in a sense, they have died. We lived there for that length of time, grew close to many folks, and now we are gone, and they are gone. I wonder in Julian's mind if it is more like death since he doesn't know as we do in an adult sense they still exist there - in a childs mind it's often, here they were one day, gone the next. Children seem to handle this transition better than adults - with more acceptance - but I can't help wondering if he too misses them. I catch him saying their names sometimes or saying a place and I think he too is trying to find out where is my home, where do I belong. So for someone who was very ready to get back to the US and to colder temps (I am loving these honestly - I had a constant yeast infection the last month in India - just too hot, no AC and very pregnant!)I find myself grieving over the people and places gone, people and places I will probably never see again. I wonder if they too are grieving and if they too talk and remember us, in particular Julian - they have all told us they will never forget him. As we prepare for the new baby to arrive, I also am recognizing I am grieving in some ways the loss of my first child. Very soon it will never just be me and Julian. As wonderful as it will be to welcome the new baby into our family, it saddens me to know the time with my little man, just us, is ending. I've had so many moments shared with him, just him and I for some time too before Ian came into our life. I felt I had to grieve the loss of that time as I welcomed Ian into our life and we got married (that time of being a single Mom for 6 months) and now I feel I am grieving the loss of my time just with Julian. I'm also letting go of a lot of the pain that surrounded Julian coming into my life as I prepare to welcome a new baby, in a manner completely different than with Julian. With Julian, I had every test, ultrasound, watched every pound, taught all my classes till my due date, kept my regular practice up (scorpion and handstand at 8 months pregnant!), delivered in a hospital. With this baby, I have not been weighed, eat what I want and don't count the pounds, no ultrasounds or tests, no prenatal care for 3 months in India, and a yoga practice that's much more restorative and gentle and not teaching since about 4 or 5 months. I do feel it's the grieving that will allow me to live and love more, to enjoy and be grateful. I think for many of us we go through transitions, whether deemed positive or negative, it doesn't matter, and we don't allow ourselves to grieve. To grieve things ending to welcome new beginnings. To grieve what we have known, what we have held onto, what we will miss, to make space for what's new. Grieving to allow us to open up to what's out there for us. So I would say I'm in a period of grief. I'm allowing the tears, the memories to come, the stories. Unfortunately because it was just my family in India, they are the ones who know these stories the most, but I can share them with you too. I will hold and kiss my little man a little more over these next 8 weeks or so, be more attentive and present, and be the one to get up when he calls mama or needs me because I know soon I won't be able to do it every time he asks. Last night he woke around 4 and I had been sleepless and restless since about midnight. I got up and went to him and held him as he hugged me, gave me kisses and said "I love you mama" and spent the hour it probably took to get him to go back to sleep. I will miss this time with him. I look forward to reconnecting with friends I haven't seen in 3 months, students who may be surprised to see me on the other side, taking a class with them, teachers whose classes I am grateful for the support and energy as I go through this process. I may seem a bit more unplugged, a bit distant, but it's only to allow myself to grieve, to lean into my family, who has given and continues to give me so much. I love them with all my heart.