Monday, May 31, 2010

it's all vanity.

the house is a steady 81 degrees at night, maybe dipping a few degrees lower just before sunrise. fans in strategic windows to pull in the cooler night air, giving thanks for this weather even though i haven't adjusted to the heat yet. little ruby gets prickly heat on her neck, face, arms, as the days get warmer & warmer. i was the same way, and still turn every shade of pink & red during the summer months. maybe a dozen more freckles, maybe my hair gets a little lighter(grayer?), but mostly i'm just pink.

i've got a handful of little notebooks going, one for this & one for that, trying to get stuff out of my Head & at least onto paper. from there? who knows. i write down what i eat, craft projects, goals, mothering things, spiritual things, menus, thoughts... it's getting more complex than it should be, probably, but putting all of this information in one journal just isn't making sense to me right now.

& we have a resident cardinal, "red" is his name says noah. he sings to us all day & hangs out on the porch railing a lot. we need to get more birdseed out.

half of my maternity leave is over already, & so i must start thinking about my return & what that means & getting a stash of milk going in the freezer. all of that good stuff. there is always transition, always change, always something going on so that i never get too comfortable.

new beginnings, starting over, everything's new, everything's the same, there's nothing new under the sun.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

pilgrim eyes.

i feel so full lately. i try to sit down to write in my paper journal or Here, and i just feel too full & like i'll explode into a million little pretty pieces if i actually write it all down. it's a weird & good feeling.

there are these little(big) things, like how i've noticed the subtle changes in Noah's face... how he's growing up & gaining confidence in himself & there are these moments where the joy in his eyes is almost too much. he will be five(FIVE! 5!) in just a few weeks & it's safe to say i'm pretty shocked this time has gone so quickly.

& jonah, he's my own billy eliot & ridiculously funny & very,very stubborn & headstrong. he's taken to asserting himself pretty strongly at times since ruby was born, & we're still trying to figure out the best way to deal with that.

ruby june, who taught me so much about patience while i, while we, waited for her, sleeps through all the noise two little boys make & squeaks, purrs & hums when the house is quiet. she has this amazing smile where her half-moon eyes close & turn up & her mouth opens into a half-giggle half-smile, and she sleeps so well i don't even want to talk about it. but after having both boys that were up every two hours to nurse, and especially jonah, who nursed every two hours through the night until he weaned himself this last fall, i say a grateful prayer every time ruby snoozes away for anything more than two hours at a time.

matthew, whose steadiness guides me along when i'm having a particularly emotional or hormone-driven crazy day, who keeps the diaper laundry going (& there is so much diaper laundry right now with two in cloth), who always asks me what i want to eat & makes sure i'm getting good foods in my belly... his smile really does just make everything better. there are days when i count the minutes til he gets home, and it's not just so i can have a break with the kids. i really do miss him, he brings so much joy inside, we are a team & we work best when we work together, i think. of course we are all still adjusting to the new Newness, to yet another transition, to the heat of the impending summer, & many other things, but we are in this together & there is not a day i don't give thanks for that really huge detail.

& the peonies, how they filled my home with the most beautiful scent. how i want my arm covered in peonies & maybe in a few months i'll sit down for more tattoo work, to finish what i started. peonies & lillies & st. john the baptist & his gnarly hair, feet... that charley harper hummingbird & maybe one of his owls, too. how Divine, truly, the breeze is at night, coming through the windows. how i'm glad i don't have everything i want. how things keep breaking, like our sink & our toilet & the downspouts & my teeth & how the porch roof leaks & how none of this matters. it's all still beautiful. it all gets fixed, or not. & life is still beautiful.

& sometimes my days are all about survival. sometimes my voice is louder than it should be. sometimes i talk too much & pick at my children as if they were my peers & Not My Children, my precious gifts that are just that, gifts. sometimes i have to ask for their forgiveness more than once. sometimes mama needs her own little break in the bathroom or on the porch to get herSelf Together. & yet their eyes still melt my heart during those times, and they accept my apologies with a divine gentleness & a Knowing...a knowing that i hope is a buffer from my brokeness, sometimes. we were given to each other, we are in this together. they are more my teachers, my guides, than i feel like i could ever be for them. but that is what i am called to be -- their guide, their teacher, their Mother, their mama.


& this is life, this is Love -- this is Messy. & it is beautiful.

& i am grateful.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

these days.

life is really hard & really wonderful & full of tears & full of laughter & even though sometimes i'm totally overwhelmed by it All -- the good and the bad, i wouldn't change it for anything.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

ruby's birth.

i had just gone back to bed after getting up to use the bathroom & get another drink of water. i was a bothered because i *had* to pee again! so, i rolled out of bed again & as soon as i stood up, i realised i didn't have to pee; my water had broke! i did a quiet little happy dance all the way back to the bathroom to check & see if there was mec in the waters or if it was clear, & when it was clear i did another little happy dance. it was 2.30 in the morning on friday, april 23rd, and i was 42 weeks & 5 days pregnant.

i gathered myself a bit & woke matthew up, telling him my water had finally broke. he hopped up & started sweeping the floor. (for some reason i asked him weeks before that when i told him i was in labor it would be awesome if he would sweep the floors!) i called grace, my midwife, to let her know. (she was pregnant too, & ended up having her own little girl five days after i gave birth. the night before, we had discussed a ton of different scenarios, and what we were going to do about them... if she went into labor when she was attending my birth, if she had her baby before i had mine, etc etc...) she did a happy dance too! we talked for a few minutes & i told her i would call her back when things started to pick up.

matthew & i hung out, got some things together for the boys, made coffee, did some dishes... just sort of puttered around the house a bit for a few hours. i sat on the balance ball a lot, & was having contractions that seemed regular, (we haven't *timed* contractions with any of my births), but they weren't too intense. finally though, around 5 am, i decided to call my parents to come & pick up the boys. as soon as they were pulling out of the driveway with the boys, the surges definitely got more intense. i called our doula around 6, and grace again around 6.30.

matthew turned some music on (of course i didn't want the birth mix i had worked on, now!) & i set myself up in the dining room, sitting on the ball & leaning onto a stack of pillows on the table. matthew sat with me, holding my hands, through each contraction. it was really divine, to have a little bit of time to labor with just matthew. we would talk or just look at each other in between the contractions, & it just felt very sacred.

i didn't hear eileen come in, but she put her hands on my back & helped release my hips a little during a contraction. it was great to have her here; she has such a gentle voice & a very mother-earthy-lovely presence about her. she was a little more chatty than i expected, but i knew that my senses were extremely heightened so it didn't really bother me. when grace showed up, she just sat across from me at the table, holding the space & observing while i was working. i was very quiet & wasn't being vocal throughout the contractions this time, even though they seemed
to be just as intense as they were when i was birthing jonah. i was really, really focused on my breathing & praying through each surge. i stood up once for grace to get a listen to ruby, and noticed my legs were shaking. i thought maybe i was in transition but then thought there was no way; i was too lucid & things weren't that intense yet.

around 9 am, i got up to use the restroom & when i came out eileen & grace were putting the kettle on for tea. we all talked for a few minutes about tea & i said i was hungry so matthew gave me a granola bar to munch on. we walked around the house a bit, trying to decide what to listen to, & just chit-chatted for a good twenty minutes. i remember looking at the clock & seeing how light we were all being & thinking that i had at least 3 or 4 more hours to go... & then, at 9.30, i sat back down on the balance ball & the next contraction was much more powerful. i wasn't comfortable sitting so i stood up. grace asked me where i wanted to have ruby & i said the living room (we sleep on the futon there), & so she said it'd probably be a good idea to make our way there. i kind of laughed at her, thinking there was no way i was close to having ruby, i mean i couldn't *feel* her the way i had felt jonah moving down... & things just didn't feel heavy enough. (& we didn't do any cervical checks because i was group B + & didn't want to have any unless grace felt it was necessary). but anyway, i took a step towards the living room & had another intense contraction -- those lovely double peaks with little recovery time -- & with every step another surge came. it took me almost an hour to take 10 steps!

once i reached the bed, i tried sitting on my hands & knees but wasn't comfortable. i leaned over the ball on the bed, but wasn't comfortable with that either. i told grace i wanted to lay down, and eileen sat at my feet & had me put one foot on her shoulder. immediately my body just started pushing like a mad woman, & i started screaming (grace, eileen & matthew all say i wasn't screaming, but just sounding really primal & really serious about birthing ruby. but my voice was hoarse the rest of the day!) in one push i could feel ruby come down & eileen mentioned she was going to support my perineum with some sweet almond oil on a washcloth. grace sat up right beside me. with the next push i felt ruby's head come out, & just then eileen said i had pushed her out to her cheeks. for some reason, this really freaked me out & i closed my eyes & i must have looked upset or scared, because grace very gently told me to open my eyes & to look at her; that ruby was fine & with the next contraction she would be out so to just focus on that & not worry about her. (i had asked grace to keep me present when i was pushing ruby out, because with jonah i was still so torn about the women i knew who had lost their babies during childbirth that i just Wanted Him Out & pushed with the mindset that i needed to get him out so that i knew he was okay... & i wanted to let that go this time & trust God & my body that ruby would be how she was supposed to be, whatever that looked like.) grace's words definitely grounded me & with the next push ruby was here. it was 10.55. she didn't make a sound, just looked around & i just sat there for a few moments talking to her & touching her, asking her to stay in her body, & then i picked her up & brought her to my chest. her cord had been wrapped loosely around her neck once. about 20 minutes later i pushed the placenta out. it had a few very large blood clots in it & a few calcifications. (grace was pretty certain the clots were formed after
i had birthed ruby). after another hour or so matthew clamped & cut the umbilical cord & grace prepared my placenta so i could make placenta smoothies everyday for a few months.after that, she prepared the most wonderful herb bath for me & checked me before i went to soak; no tearing! i had tears with noah & jonah & was shocked that i didn't tear this time. i also had a cervical prolapse with jonah's birth, and this time there was nothing like that.

i took my bath, fell asleep in it for about half an hour, got out & dressed & went back to bed with my new & perfect little girl.



She is more precious than rubies,
and none of the things you desire can compare with her.
Long life is in her right hand;
in her left hand are riches and honor.
Her ways are very pleasant,
and all her paths are peaceful.
She is like a tree of life to those who obtain her,
and everyone who grasps hold of her will be blessed.

proverbs 3:15-18

Sunday, May 9, 2010

happy mother's day


TO WASH A CHILD
by Pablo Neruda

Only the most ancient love on earth
will wash and comb the statue of the children,
straighten the feet and knees.
The water rises, the soap slithers,
and the pure body comes up to breathe
the air of flowers and motherhood.

Oh, the sharp watchfulness,
the sweet deception,
the lukewarm struggle!

Now the hair is a tangled
pelt criscrossed by charcoal,
by sawdust and oil,
soot, wiring, crabs,
until love, in its patience,
sets up buckets and sponges,
combs and towels,
and, out of scrubbing and combing, amber,
primal scrupulousness, jasmines,
has emerged the child, newer still,
running from the mother's arms
to clamber again on its cyclone,
go looking for mud, oil, urine and ink,
hurt itself, roll about on the stones.
Thus, newly washed, the child springs into life,
for later, it will have time for nothing more
than keeping clean, but with the life lacking.

Friday, May 7, 2010

i have found such joy

I have found such joy in simple things;
A plain, clean room, a nut-brown loaf of bread
A cup of milk, a kettle as it sings,
The shelter of a roof above my head,
And in a leaf-laced square along the floor,
Where yellow sunlight glimmers through a door.



I have found such joy in things that fill
My quiet days: a curtain's blowing grace,
A potted plant upon my window sill,
A rose, fresh-cut and placed within a vase;
A table cleared, a lamp beside a chair,
And books I long have loved beside me there.



Oh, I have found such joys I wish I might
Tell every woman who goes seeking far
For some elusive, feverish delight,
That very close to home the great joys are:
The elemental things-- old as the race,
Yet never, through the ages, commonplace.



(Grace Noll Crowell)

Monday, May 3, 2010

nine days.

she's been here nine days & it's as if she has been with us always, well, because she has. & of course there are growing pains with every transition, with every new being under the same roof, sharing the same air & spoons & attention... but so far it has been a relatively smooth ride. i see in her a tenderness, a wisdom, a peace. & the amazing ability to sleep through all the noise her brothers can possibly make.

so everything's new again & everything is the same.

& it may be a little too early to say for sure, but i think all the waiting, the longing... & waiting again for her arrival gave birth in me a new found pocket of patience.

or maybe it's the placenta smoothies.