Buddha Baby

A little over thirty years ago I wrote this story. I have shared it with family members and a few friends.  I think that it is a nice story to share on this blog. 

BUDDHA BABY

 By T S Mee

I see out of the corner of my eye, a reflection in the mirror.  It is a body, not my body, but a Buddha Body.  Round and full, firm and strong.  Yet, I see my face attached to this body.  

I realize that this body I have had for seven months is not just my body, but a body of the universe that needs not to be told how to function, but according to the laws of nature and the forces within it, knows how to perform as repeated in history.  

Getting up and down is performed with more caution and less haste.  I have not seen my pubic hair for months.  This growth I have felt is not just mine, but one shared by another.  

No, I am not fat. I am pregnant, full of life and energy.  

My Buddha Body is the Temple for my Buddha Baby.  My Buddha Baby will enter this world complete with his Buddha being, naked, round, and full, firm and strong. He will be a miniature of me.  

I did not create my Buddha Baby. I conceived him.  My body builds him.  

Nature took command knowing the appropriate time schedule for the precise timing of this bodybuilding event.  Mother Nature is the architect and contractor; I furnish the supplies.  I assist by practicing positive health.  

I still do not recognize myself when I catch a glimpse of me in the mirror, but then, again, I am not myself.  I have become an ourselves, sharing my body and my life.  This must be why I have a Buddha Body, so that I know I am not just me anymore.  

As time passes my Buddha Body continues to grow and my Buddha Baby becomes more active.  A right jab, a left jab, a right and then a left again.  You are no longer egg + sperm, you are you.  I can feel you move, your arms, your feet, and yes, even your hiccups.  I even hear your heartbeat.  

I have to admit my fascination for my belly button.  It is so round, and big and flat.  It looks very much like an eye.  My third eye is not in the center of my forehead, but is also in the center of my Buddha Body.  I guess even in the fetal stages a mother keeps a close eye on her babe.  

My dear Buddha Baby, I have held you within me for a few months and several days.  I have known your presence from the first minute of conception.  Whether from the modern term of women’s premonition or the cosmic knowing that I knew you were to exist.  I knew you were to be. I knew when you called to me it was time for you to be born.   I entrusted us to what I call (Obi-Wan) Kenobi knowing.  A knowing that you and I are a duet in life.  

In the beginning I did not feel your physical being, just my physiological reactions to the new guest I was housing.  But it was not long before I became tired and had far less energy than usual but never did I feel nauseated.  My life had a new joy and lust for living.  

I am now never alone.  I have a constant companion that shares every minute of my life.  My body is no longer just mine.  My dreams are no longer just mine.  My life is no longer just mine.  Everything I have or do is ours.  We share everything.

You are always with me as a constant reminder that I must do, feel and believe good.  If I fail me, I fail you.  

As time has progressed and months have passed, you have grown from something that I could not physically feel, but spiritually experienced

Since you have been conceived, my every breath is also your every breath.  My bites of apples and oranges are shared with you.  If I do not eat, you do not eat.  I practice my best behavior to insure your good health.  

My body is employed full-time to build you non-stop.  Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.  No wonder I have such little energy.  

                           

From within the inside of your sacred temple that nourishes and protects you, you are now about ready to make your entrance into the universe.  The finishing touches are now being added to your total physical being.  You will enter this world as the Buddha that you are. 

I anticipate your arrival, but with hesitation. Once you enter this side, the outside, I will miss your constant companionship.  I will miss the feeling of growth within me.  I will miss your influence on my dreams, both night nights and daydreams.  

You and I have a relationship I have never experienced.  We are friends and lovers, mother and child.   So far we work good as a team.  

When we meet on the outside, I will have given you your first step into freedom.  I guess the first stage of cutting the apron strings occurs when the umbilical cord, that has connected us for months, is cut.  

Although we will still be companions and have a partnership in our relationship, we will no longer be physically connected.  You will have your life and I will have mine.  We will have a spiritual bond that will connect us.  You, my Buddha Baby, and I will live our lives separate, but together.  

Buddha Baby, I love you.  I will miss this present bond.  In a few weeks I will be a mother with child in arms.  We will be separate unto each other.  May your separate life from me be one of living with respect, justice, health, wisdom, kindness and compassion experienced by you and shared with others.  

I do await your entrance, as I await a great artist as the curtain opens.  Anxious, full of butterflies.  This will be your occasion, not one full of pain and fear, rather one of anticipation and celebration.  

Your arrival will awaken from my physical soul of your departure.  It will remind me that my body will no longer house your body.  Your exit from me into this universe will be celebrated with mixed feelings of pain and pleasure; of coming and going; of being and becoming.  

When you decide you are ready to exit your temple, you will let me know.  Labor will begin.  A term I believe to be falsely given.  Not that giving birth is not hard work and does not put demands on the body that work and physical exertion entails.  

Sure, I will sweat.  My heart rate will increase; I will feel like I am running a marathon.  I am.  My race with your life is beginning.  The pain that will be present is to remind me that my constant companion is leaving my body and starting the race.  It is hard to imagine the entrance of a newborn into the world without the mother being aware of a feeling of departure.  

That is why, my Buddha Baby, the pain you will subject me to, will be no more than stubbing my toe.   It will hurt for a while and then be forgotten.  

When I feel your birth I will know you are leaving me and you will be on your own, using your own body and systems that Mother Nature helped me to build.  When the umbilical cord that has united us for nine months is cut we will no longer be one, but two, so shall we be.  You will be on your own.  So will I.  We will be two.  We will be separate but we will be there to guide each other.  

You will no longer be dependent solely on me.  Other individuals can fulfill the functions that I am now prepared to do.  I will not have the singular influence on you.  The first cutting of the apron strings will have occurred, and our aloneness will begin.  

I meet this thought with mixed feelings.  I have adored sharing my body with you.  I have loved having your spirit and soul influencing my dreams, my goals, my life and my soul.  

I will miss my Buddha belly. 

I am anxious to hold you. To feel the movements that were once within me, will now be felt against the external of my body.  I will soon feed you through my breasts rather than our placenta.  I am eager to see the influence of the genetic connection shared by me and the father of your spirit.  

As my legs open to birth you, so do I open my arms to greet you, to hold you and to caress you.  My hands open to tend your needs and my heart opens to love you even more than I do now.

In Gassho, my dear Buddha Baby.

Namu Amida Butso

BSB

"Ushiro ni suwatta monto"