The Idea of a Village

I remember the month I found out I was pregnant with my first child. She was a surprise baby and although I was 31 and married for 2 years, I naively was in shock over the reality that I was pregnant! A multitude of waves of fluctuating emotions passed over me those first few weeks before they settled on two dominate ones: excitement and loneliness. Excitement that even though I didn't plan or ask for the miraculous gift of motherhood, here it had been given to me! The loneliness, however, was something new, something I hadn't felt since meeting and marrying my husband—and it felt especially poignant in comparison to those early years of newlywed bliss.


I am not sure if the loneliness I experienced was a longing for something I had lost or a longing for something I never really had. Deep down, and for the first time—at least that I recognized—I longed to be part of a village of women who could guide and support me on what felt like at the time, the greatest pilgrimage I had ever undertaken.


It wasn't just that my own mom had moved abroad (or that my sister and grandmother and all of Tim's family lived a long plane ride away). Although that didn't help, it was a longing for something greater and more meaningful than that.


I longed to have a deep soul sisterhood—not just as I embarked on the beginning of this journey of becoming a mama—but for my children to have as they also grew.


It wasn't that I didn't have beautiful friendships; it was the contrary. I had supportive family who all scheduled visits, a loving congregation that overpoured gifts and parties, friends who sat and dreamed with me, even a neighborhood of women who decorated my belly with henna, shared birth stories and brought meals. So why did I feel this loneliness? Was I being ungrateful, negative?


It was in those first months of pregnancy that I realized as a community and culture we had somewhere along the way been cut off from the primal village that I began to long for, as I knew it would take much more wisdom and connection to successfully raise a child of this next generation. It is when I realized, too, it was my responsibility to also share the gifts I had within me and that it was not simply enough to enjoy the life we had created with just a chosen few—which ultimately lead to the creation of Farry Films.


The Village prenatal


So when I was asked to participate in the Village Prenatal, I knew I would love to volunteer my services to this group of mamas embracing pregnancy, sharing ancestral knowledge, giving of themselves to one another. What a beautiful initiative for a pregnant mama!


After I finally had my first child, I felt a new resolve in my heart to give more than ever. To raise her in a way where she would value connection and service as prized gifts. I realize now, in those early months, in the peak of the pandemic and in isolation as a new mama, I experienced a mild case of post-partum depression which for me showed up as endless worry and anxiety that I was not measuring up to this new, life-changing role. And yet, time and again, it was love and friendship that helped me lighten up, that helped me find a new balance in those responsibilities that at times seemed impossible to carry. Sometimes, in the thick of the chaos, all it took was a smile or helpful tip to keep me afloat.


"When did our mothers stop teaching us about childbirth? When did we begin to fear our birthrights? When did we stop communing in villages replacing community with isolation? When did it become normal for families to live far apart with the younger generations spending less time with the older ones?" I felt a great disconnect between what I needed and wanted to be and what I was raised and taught to believe. For me, it proved to be a long journey to reclaim that what is inherently ours: the right and desire to be a part of something that is so much bigger than our little growing families: to truly be a part of our growing world.