08/15/2025
“This is love, to fly towards a secret sky…. Heart, I said, what a gift it has been to enter this circle of lovers, to see beyond seeing itself, to reach and feel within the breast.”
As the sweet cocoon of my maternity leave draws to a close, I’m reflecting on the changes of the past three months. Holding this growing girl in my arms, her sweet fingers grasping at my shirt, soft warm breaths against my arm, catching every sunrise and sunset…these are the moments I will treasure and miss as she continues to grow.
Some part of me dissolved into the collective of women who are called Mama. And as I emerge from this cocoon, I spread my wings not only with the new name of mama, but with a return home to my maiden name. My new old email is cait@caitklein.com and my website CaitKlein.com. You will still be able to reach me at cait@caitallison.com but will be hearing back from me with the new email address. It’s a home coming of sorts. Motherhood feels like resting in my truest essence, in total congruence. Yes, I have spit up all over me, a knot in my hair and I’m bags under my eyes. But this feels wild and free and true.
This been the least structured time of my life since childhood. Showered or totally stank with sweat and spit up, our daughter loves being with us, snuggling and nursing, which is a beautiful lesson of love’s great acceptance. It is a privilege to be someone’s everything and to be a safe space to support her growing nervous system.
Life looks radically different than a year ago, but some things remain the same: my awe for the sunsets over these mountains, my zest for life, and the honor of getting to bear witness to radical transformation in my clients.
With every joy of discovery and new development in our daughter, comes a grief and a release of the weeks and months prior. Growth is always lined with grief. Now as I ease back into working a bit each week, I can anticipate the longing already to have her in my arms. We will still be catching every sunrise and every sunset together, baby girl latched to my breast, in this unfolding year of becoming.
