Over the last few days, I've watched my husband wrestle with himself. He and I have had very different rhythms in this parenting journey. In the last month, I've left the house once. He's been out most days, running errands, going to meetings, auditions, callbacks, work. Pushing hard at the gym, dreaming wild and coming home sore, tired. Unable to sink into downtime he feels the weight of still showing up for our little family. He's been holding night shifts often, letting me sleep... And now, it's catching up to him.

For me, the last few days (and this whole journey) have been filled with tremendous beauty. Aunty Jacqlyne and Uncle Hamish came to visit (this deserves a post of its own that I hope to write soon.) Our child snuggled into them and slept like the happy baby she is. I've had long calls with loved ones - Rowan and Alpha. Mentally stimulating and heart-open too. I've been finding my flow and getting excited by new projects that are starting to peek out from where they were once hiding. (The Tussling and The Mrs Dzedze Podcast, coming soon, as well as the final edits being put to my book.)

Today, as I watched my husband break all the way down, and read his words of how the honeymoon has ended for him, I wondered why it hasn't ended for me. I still look at her and cry, thank her for being here, tell her I love her and that I'm so proud of how well she's doing. The beauty of this parenting journey still far outweighs the challenge. Today a friend asked, "How's life as a mother?" Without thought, I responded, "I fucking love it! It's made sense of who I am."

I think of how I've been offline for three months and deeply cocooned in my home. Minimal stimulation has allowed for me to dive all the way in - into myself and what comes up for me emotionally in this parenting journey. I've been able to contend with every part of it, as it arises, with the least amount of distraction. This helps me to hear her, respond to her. It makes for an ease in the flow between us, and in that, I stay open to receive all she has to gift me - that keeps me connected to the beauty.

For my husband, it's different. He's been juggling so many parts of life that his experience with our daughter is, at times, abruptly interrupted by other needs, and vice versa. I think of how this halting of flow inevitably leads to a backlog of unprocessed emotion - and the emotions are so titanic at this time in our lives!

Again, I'm brought back to the privilege of this gentle unfurling that I get to experience. I'm grateful for the pace that I get to journey. And I'm profoundly aware of the differences between the way a woman's journey into motherhood is held in comparison to a man's journey into fatherhood. Time and time again, through pregnancy and parenthood, I've seen how, why and when absent fathers are crafted by society's hands.

Right now, she's wrapped up against his chest in a baby-pink sling. Hillsong is playing through his phone and I'm internally erupting with amazement at all Nyaniso is willing to meet and move in himself, to be here. I'm bearing witness to ancestral wounds being healed, curses broken and stories re-written. Last night he roared and cried his way through pain he's been holding in his body. This morning, our home is feeling lighter again.