THIS IS US: The beginning of The Foldens

The Foldens : Chapter I

The beginning of “Us”

There I was feeling the steady pulse of my own heartbeat while I stood in front of 60 beautiful beings. I was about to join hands with the man I would share the rest of my life. I felt like butterflies had lifted me off feet, my insides were bubbly and I knew everything in my world was right. I had never been sure I wanted to get married or have kids. I was open to the possibility of marriage but was never certain until my heart opened for Brandon. Thunder rolled in the distance as the sun cast its golden light; the energy of a sweet summer storm was in the air … the atmosphere was electric. We exchanged our vows. Tears ran down, and laughter simmered up from within. He took my right hand, wrapping the wedding band around my finger. We all burst into laughter; it was the wrong hand! This indeed set the tone for the years that followed, perfectly imperfect. Our wedding day was one of my life’s most beautiful days. I was so delighted and curious about the possibilities for us ahead.

I felt secure in the unknown; I wasn’t sure how our days, months, and years would unfold, yet I trusted in us. 

Signs of fall had begun to surface. Leaves were turning as the air grew crisp. We were getting ready to take a flight to Germany for our honeymoon. The adventure was beginning! Carefree and eager to experience the expansive inspiration tied to travel, we were floating on newlywed fumes through a trip that will always ignite warmth in my heart and laughter in my belly. We ate pretzels and sausage, drank ginormous pints of German beer, hiked old-growth forests, and stayed in romantic cottages along the coast. Our time was freedom. It was light, filled with love and whimsy. We made our own path, and that would be the path that we would follow for the rest of our life. We traveled narrow tree-lined roads up and down rolling hills, around mysterious bends, experiencing more of our earth's innate beauty as we rediscovered our own… It was the evening before our flight home, and my stomach started to feel nauseous. Hopeful for our final day plan to squeeze in a castle visit, my low energy finally made me give in. I couldn’t do it. I needed rest and wasn’t sure why. That plane journey home, I spent the major portion in the bathroom. I couldn’t bear the smell of dinner paired with my husband's gin and tonic. I began to wonder if I was pregnant.

I was home alone and equipped to learn if there was a little seed growing inside of me. My nerves were buzzing, yet I knew how universally held I truly was. Hours later, I had prepared a meal to take to Brandon - he was working at a gravel pit not too far away. I also had a piece of news to share. Hopping into the loader with him, my stomach had grown wings, it was fluttering away. I shared with him that we had created a baby. His eyes sparkled, and I felt so safe, so secure. We were more ready than we realized.

Relationships invite our deepest growth; we not only become intimate, sharing our hearts with another but truly become sensitive to the inner landscapes of ourselves. My journey through marriage has been more healing than any other relationship I’ve experienced. The grandest surprise is that there has been no big event in our marriage to provoke the healing, just normalcies perceived and received on a deeper level. Wounds from my past that were popping up and ready to be let go. Tuning in to the subtleties of my own discomfort, situation after situation evoked opportunity for inquiry and nursing of the self. Once I grew curious, hurt became known that I didn’t realize I harbored.

It was 5 weeks after that evening in the gravel pit, on a late Sunday afternoon, when I went to the bathroom to discover an unsettling surprise. I called the doctor to describe my situation the next morning; I had miscarried. Wanting to be sure every piece of that miraculous little seed had let go and left my body, an ultrasound was booked. In I went, grieving all that was about to be. The tech had discovered a large mass in my fallopian tube. Unsure of what it was, the results were sent to my doctor immediately, then passed on to the doctor occupying emergency. I was sent there. There was no certainty about the mass, but there was a certainty of the risk. If it had continued to grow or decided to burst, it could be fatal. I could sense the fear and worry from within my mom and husband, yet in my own heart, I felt held and safe; so strong knowing they were unconditionally there. I felt so deeply this was all happening for a reason, that I need not be afraid. I rested in that; I felt so calm and still the entire journey. I was immediately taken in for surgery; the surgeon had no idea what she was about to find.

I awoke, seeing the relief on my mom and husband's faces. I was so interested to hear what was discovered. It turned out; I was born with a uterine extension. It was called a communicating uterine horn, something so scarce, but it would have caused further complication down our conception road if not removed. The disguise was removed, and blessings were uncovered. Had I not miscarried, that baby would have continued to grow and embedded in this communicating horn; the horn would have burst and could have taken my life. Had there been no pregnancy, the next one could have embedded in the same place, offering the same risks. The pathway was resolved for all that was to come …

I needed 8 months to recover before we could begin growing “us” again. This was a perfect opportunity for personal healing and growth, so I booked myself into a Joy Prouty photography workshop in Nashville, Tennesse. A weekend plucked from my wildest dreams… an intimate group of open-hearted creative women, deep and honest conversation. We danced barefoot, hand in hand in the rain, wondered in the sun's early light, and journaled to the aroma of pancakes and coffee. I spent most of the weekend holding it together, being an open soft place to land for all the other stories and wounded hearts. It was easier to be there for everyone else than to receive others being there for me. I wasn’t ready to be seen. I was feeling lost and confused. Grieving and wondering what my purpose was in this life. Was I meant to be a mother? Or was photography my baby? I didn’t believe in my capacity to be a mother and succeed as an entrepreneur, and I didn’t know which I was meant for … I thought I had to choose. 

It was the final morning of the workshop. We were cozied around the outskirts of The Prouty’s living room, ready to welcome the family Joy was going to photograph. In they came, mama papa and their 3 kids with a guitar. Sitting in front of the big picture window, they snuggled in close. Natural light covering them like a luminous blanket, rain patting down on the tin roof, and candles flickering around the room. There was warmth in every heart, I am sure, and the energy that filled the room felt magical. As my inner world became still, I saw before me a reality I never knew was possible. The couple was facing each other as their children surround them. He reached out to hold her face as tears rolled down her cheeks. It was a profound expression of love; they held each other as unconditional connection filled the space between them. They weren't covering up how they felt; their love was the most important thing - they were undistracted by the room filled with people, and holding nothing back even in front of their children, they were completely captivated by each other. Seeing this expression of love shared between the couple, was profound but what moved me to my core was the power of sharing that with their children. This was what my heart was longing for but didn't believe was possible.

The veil containing my inner world had lifted; I was ready to be seen. These children could grow up knowing a healthy standard of love; I felt the power of family in every cell of my body. We are raised in conditions that program what we perceive as normal, and we get to create conditions for our children that will become their subconscious standard. It was then that I knew and no longer felt lost. I wanted to create a family of my own; I knew that was the grandest masterpiece of all. One where each person knew how loved they were. Where there was always permission to be ourselves, and where we always know we belong. A family who practices courage by showing up fully, letting ourselves be seen, honouring vulnerability, and being compassionate with ourselves and each other. A family who knows joy, who dances, laughs, sings, and creates together. But who also cries and faces fear and grief together. Who shares stories of struggle and strength, knowing there is always room for both.
This moment imprinted on my heart, re-membering a piece of myself never to be forgotten.