Emerging from the Cocoon: Welcoming Elijah Boone

Alas, I feel as though I've finally emerged from the cocoon I created for protection. For months, I lived inside that sacred shell growing, shedding, preparing, surrendering. And then almost a month ago, on Monday, October 28th, the medically-necessary induction began... the moment my wings began to unfurl.

Motherhood, I've learned, isn't a single moment, it's a metamorphosis. It feels like floating with the rhythm of the earth. Ancient, instinctual, deeply humbling. It's as though there's a quiet drumbeat beneath everything, guiding me forward even when I can't see what comes next.

And through it all, one question echoed in my mind:

What if everything is already written?

What if our stories are divinely designed: the people who show up, the lessons that press against us, the timing that feels both inconvenient and perfect? What if every moment is conspiring to reveal who we were always meant to become?

First snuggle with Elijah Boone.

The journey to meeting our son, Elijah Boone, felt exactly like that.

Unpredictable.

Fast.

Fierce.

Sacred.

I didn't know what I was walking into: the induction protocol, the constant change of hands caring for me, the pace that left no room for hesitation. There were moments when fear took the lead but somehow, trust held steady beneath it all. I gave myself full to the process, to the flow, to the Creator (God, High Power, The Universe etc.).

And as always, angels appeared.

Ryan, my knight and shining armor, holding me through every surge. A doctor, pregnant herself, whispering, "You are safe, Mama. Your baby is safe." Followed by, "Next one is going to be bright and spicy." A nurse who stepped in at the exact moment I needed grounding, massaging my head and hips, helping me find my breath again, gently easing Ryan's worry with her presence.

These moments felt like threads from another realm, weaving themselves into our story. Somewhere in the middle of it all, I realized I've always been the one who takes the hard way; not as a punishment, but as initiation. Life has constantly nudged me to become more me. To look fear in the eye and whisper, "I've got this."

Franki and his new baby brother.

The moment Elijah entered the world, something clicked into place. Everything felt deeply and undeniably connected to every soul who crossed our path. It was as if life itself tapped me on the shoulder and said: "See? You were never alone. You were being guided."

And I understood, with sudden clarity, that what we choose to see becomes our world. If we look for fear, we will find it. If we look for love and trust that everything is divinely written for us, miracles unfold everywhere.

This birth, this initiation was my emergence. A butterfly doesn't grow wings in the moment she flies. She grows them in the dark, in the cocoon, in the quiet discomfort of transformation.

Meeting Eli wasn't just the start of his life. It was the next chapter of mine. As as I step into this new season, softer, braver, more aligned, I feel nothing but awe for the journey ahead.

Welcome to the world, sweet Elijah Boone.

You were always written in the stars.

And now you're finally home. ✨🦋❤️

A little white moth appeared on my first walk behind our house with Eli.