I Can’t Breathe
I can’t rest. I keep thinking about the call for “Mama” made by George Floyd as his life was being stolen away. He called “Mama” as his breath was being suffocated out of him.
“I can’t breathe.” These three words haunt us as mothers.
Oddly, when I had my daughter I felt physically sick when the umbilical cord was cut. I never knew why I felt this way. Perhaps it was just a chemical reaction, a deep and strange attachment, or perhaps it was a fear that her breath was now outside my body. I was no longer breathing for her. Her breath was now her own but was still my responsibility to protect and like most parents, I would protect it fiercely.
Like the rhythm of their hearts, the breath of our children is so intimately tied to us. We are breathing with our child the moment they are born. If they came from our own womb, we are breathing FOR them BEFORE they are born. We then breathe through labor. It’s the way we birth them into this world. A world that often doesn’t respect or allow space for their breath let alone protect it the way that we do.
Like many moms (and dads) I took CPR courses while pregnant, and kept cords, strings, and any strangulation hazards out of reach. When she was an infant, I would sometimes check to make sure she was still breathing. I’d go crazy in the night when she would sometimes wake coughing and gasping and then she’d fall back to sleep like nothing happened. I must have called the pediatrician a million times in those early months. There were no pillows or extra bedding in her crib just like the experts recommend. She slept only on her back until she could roll over. She didn’t play with plastic bags. I kept small objects off the floor so they wouldn’t end up in her mouth as a choking hazard. I once had to do the Heimlich at a restaurant, when she was a year old and once all was well again, I’m pretty sure my heart stopped for a moment.
When nursing her to sleep as a baby or rocking her to sleep as a toddler, I would do the same deep meditative breathing I used in labor in hopes of getting her to sleep. She takes swim classes and is supervised around pools. I comfort her and help her to breathe when she is upset or crying out of control so she learns the power of her breath to calm and center herself.
I do all these things to protect her ability to breathe on her own and to empower her with her God given breath. I also feel called to protect her RIGHT to breathe and not just in the literal sense but also in the figurative. So when I say “they stole a man’s breath” and anyone says “but…” I say, “No they stole a man’s breath.”
There is and has always been a lot of talk about freedom in our society. I pray that our children will know a society where their freedom to breath is respected. A society where basic humanity extends to them. I pray we can create a society where they do not have to fight, defend, validate, or clamor for space to breathe… to be heard, to be respected, to be valued, to be listened to, to know that they matter. Isn’t that what we all want for our kids? This is the society we are fighting to build so that our children don’t have to fight so hard just to breathe.
With Love, Light, and Hope
Jazz