From Muggle to Witch: Chapter 12

by Amy Marienblaume | Instagram

TRIGGER WARNING: This post discusses bleeding during pregnancy and placenta previa. 

Have you ever noticed how cyclical everything in life is? The moon waxes and wanes, the seasons share their beauty with us and then graciously fade out making space for the next; one minute you have a hundred things to do and weeks later you’re exhausted and go into a period of rest and contemplation. I, dear witches, am in a season of rest and contemplation as I prepare for my whole world as I know it to change, and my magic has become low maintenance. 

Photo credit: Unsplash. 

Am I an Imposter Witch?

Like many of you, I suspect, I feel like I’ve battled imposter syndrome my whole life. I’m about to be 36, but sometimes I still feel like a little girl playing house and I have to remind myself that I’m an independent, successful adult (and wife and mama). I’m finally where I wanted to be in my career at this stage in my life, but sometimes I feel like I’m a complete fraud despite the effort I put in to get here. I’ve found that over the past few months, I’ve been battling a big ol’ bout of imposter syndrome when it comes to my identity as a witch.  

When I reclaimed my witchy path I had so much passion and energy for my craft. I read so many books and immersed myself in learning about different paths as I made choices on what intuitively felt right to me. I was all in and I felt like a “real” witch – whatever that means. And lately… I have to remind myself that I am still a witch even if my practice is in a bit of a state of hibernation and is more internal and less Instagram-worthy. 

Can Nothing Just be Easy?

Just under 10 years ago I had a reading with an incredible psychic that my former massage therapist had seen for decades. He told me that this life would be rich in blessings, but was not meant to be an easy road. He explained that my soul was here to learn some hard lessons and that nothing would just be handed to me. Oh boy was he right.

I announced my pregnancy very early on my Instagram page because I felt a very strong desire to shout it from the rooftops after everything I went through with my previous losses. Making it to an ultrasound and seeing a beating heart was a huge milestone. About 2 weeks later I had some bleeding, and I was terrified. When I went to use the washroom in the night, the moon was shining through the window. I stood in her light and begged her not to take another baby from me. I could not fathom having another loss and having to make that announcement. As it turned out baby and I were fine, but during an ultrasound my midwife ordered for my peace of mind, we discovered I had a small subchorionic hematoma (the accumulation of blood between the wall of the uterus and the placenta – a relatively common occurrence that happens in around 16-25% of pregnancies). It was a logical explanation, and thankfully hematoma was pretty small and would likely resolve on its own without any more bleeding.

At my routine 12-week ultrasound, Baby was so squirmy that the tech took nearly twice the normal amount of time to get all the images she needed. Four days later, my mother-in-law picked up our Little Leo to take him to play in the park. I was about to take a nap when I felt a huge gush. I ran to the bathroom and all I could see was blood. I instantly began hyperventilating. My husband had to scoop me off the floor, and off we went to the Emergency Room. The ride was silent, save for my sobbing and occasional reminders that I needed to breathe. COVID-19 meant that I had to do this alone as he dropped me off at the emergency entrance. They wheeled in the portable (read: low tech and crappy) ultrasound machine and were able to show me Baby and a beating heart, but they weren’t able to determine the source of the bleeding. It was now after 5 pm on Sunday and the ultrasound department was closed. I was deemed “not emergent enough” to call in a tech and was sent home with instructions to rest and come back if the bleeding got worse. When we arrived home I went outside to my rosebush where I had planted the remnants of my fertility spell and gave it water, some of my tears, and all the love I could muster. I asked for it to keep this baby, that its magic had helped bring into existence, safe in my womb.  

The night was uneventful, but just like the last scare, I found myself standing under the nearly full moon pleading for my baby’s life. I whispered incantations of protection as I fell into a dreamless sleep. The next morning, I had to sit in the ER and wait for the results of my ultrasound to be reviewed by the radiologist and on-call obstetrician. Finally, my name was called, and I was being walked back to the same room where I learned that my second pregnancy was not viable. The déjà vu and fear were so palpable that I threw up the second I set foot through the door. Mercifully, Baby and I are completely fine, however I was diagnosed with complete placenta previa, a condition where the placenta is growing over the opening of the uterus and can cause pretty severe bleeding. Chances are pretty good that it will move during the duration of my pregnancy, but if it doesn’t this little one will enter the world via c-section – and after the labour of my son, quite frankly, the idea of skipping right past that part doesn’t sound so terrible. 

I waited up for the moon to rise and whispered my thanks and gratitude to her. In the light of the morning, my rosebush seemed to have grown by half a foot and was ripe with new blooms about to open. By the time this chapter is posted I will be 15 weeks along and I am finally starting to feel better and regain some energy bit by bit. I am under orders to take it easy and refrain from lifting more than 20 lbs. There have been no more scares, but I feel like I’m living in a state of hypervigilance knowing that there may be another bleed as this witchling takes up more and more space in my body. 

Photo credit: Unsplash.

Welcome to the Land of Low-Maintenance Witchcraft

These days, most of my witching involves low-energy work and includes spoken incantations, working with crystals, moon water, of course, my trusty tarot cards, and plenty of meditation. I miss some of my more elaborate spell work, and my poor cauldron is getting a bit dusty. I have come to accept that this time in my life is not going to be easy; apparently I have not yet learned the lesson to just expect roadblocks. Maybe one day.

Mabon is around the corner and I’ll be lighting some candles as I welcome back a slower pace, enjoying some pumpkin spice baking, and counting my blessings. I wish you a blessed season, whatever it looks like for you. 

About the Author: Amy is a newly re-awakened witch living in South-Western Ontario. As a Scorpio sun, Pisces moon, and Scorpio rising, she can be found reading and recharging in the bath when she’s not chasing after her almost-five-year-old Leo son she is raising with her Sagittarius husband. Professionally, as a Human Resources Business Partner, Amy brings her magic into the office by guiding the rest of the team to build self-awareness, compassion, and empathy with the goal of creating a more harmonious and enchanted workplace. You can find her on Instagram at @thewakenedwitch, where she shares her journey into owning the identity of Witch.

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