Archives

Women’s Retreat Recipe

Quarterly, I get together with some of my friends and we have a women’s retreat. We had our summer retreat this past Sunday and I thought I’d share the outline and our activities as a “retreat recipe” that others may use if they wish to do so. Since my friends do not necessarily share specific religious beliefs, the retreats are spiritual in a somewhat generic “womanspirit” sort of way and you can obviously customize your own retreat to best suit the spiritual beliefs/backgrounds of your own friendship group.

Circle up—we stand in a circle, place our hands on eachother’s backs and hum together three times to raise the energy of the circle.

Invocation to directions. This time we used an invocation by Judith Laura:

We honor the East
Home of air
March wind
Morning’s song
Eagle’s flight
Aurora’s breath
Welcome East

We honor the South
Home of fire
Noon sun
Flame of change
Heat of passion
Pele’s power
Welcome South

We honor the West
Home of water
River’s flow
Font of feelings
World’s womb
Kwan Yin’s love
Welcome West

We honor the North
Home of Earth
Root of life
Shaded mystery
Ground of being
Gaia’s growth
Welcome North.

Light candle/opening quote

“I see the wise woman. And she sees me. She smiles

from shrines in thousands of places. She is buried

in the ground of every country. She flows in every

river and pulses in the oceans. The wise woman’s

robe flows down your back, centering you in the

ever-changing, ever-spiraling mystery.

Everywhere I look, the wise woman looks back.

And she smiles.”

–Susun Weed quoted in Birthing Ourselves Into Being

Check-in–we take turns “passing the rattle” and each woman has about two minutes to share what’s been on her mind.

Since we are close to summer solstice, I then chose to do this solstice prayer of healing from the United Nations as a responsive reading as a group:

A Prayer of Healing
From the United Nations Environmental Sabbath

We join with the earth and with each other.
To celebrate the seas.
To rejoice the sunlight.
To sing the song of the stars.

We join with the earth and with each other.
To recall our destiny.
To renew our spirits.
To reinvigorate our bodies.

We join with the earth and with each other.
To create the human community.
To promote justice and peace.
To remember our children.

We join together as many and diverse expressions of one loving mystery: for the healing of the earth and the renewal of all life. We join with the earth and with each other.
To bring new life to the land.
To restore the waters.
To refresh the air.

We join with the earth and with each other.
To renew the forests.
To care for the plants.
To protect the creatures.

Guided visualization/meditation/relaxation (for this particular retreat, I used a nice full body relaxation from the book Birthing Ourselves into Being. This one isn’t available online that I can find, but you can find others online, like this one for example.)

We followed the relaxation with a muse questions and journaling using one of the questions from Shiloh Sophia’s Museletter:

Your Muse would like to show you something you haven’t been able to see.

She wants to invite you to have a thought you haven’t had yet…isn’t that an enticing thought in and of itself?

A thought that has lingered on the edge of your consciousness for maybe even a few years, or months….tell her…

I want to know what it is I am not seeing.

Then automatic write whatever comes up until you have to put the pen down.

Immediately following this question, it began to rain. Blissful, blessed, healing, glorious rain for which we were in so much need.

Discuss responses/experiences to relaxation/journaling.

Listen to songs/perhaps drum (this time, went outside together and stood in the rain)

Closing circle: Sing Woman Am I (recording of my friends singing it together is here).

Closing quote and extinguish candle

“A circle! No sharp edges, no hierarchy, just a circle of women…We are mothers. We are the portals. The next generation comes through our bodies.” –Annie Lennox

and one of my all-time favorites:

“I believe that these circles of women around us weave invisible nets of love that carry us when we’re weak and sing with us when we’re strong.” –SARK, Succulent Wild Woman

When reading a 1988 back issue of SageWoman magazine, I fell in love with Womanrunes by Shekhinah Mountainwater (originally in her book Ariadne’s Thread, which I then purchased) and so I made copies of the images to share with my friends. We are going to make some sets of runes at our next retreat. (And, after much scouring of the interwebz, I found a pronunciation guide for the runes here).

I also made a handout packet for them of various moon wheels/circular calendars for tracking your cycles, or simply for planning and thinking in circles rather than in lines. In the packets were:

And, then it was time for a craft, so as we snacked and chatted, I showed everyone how to make a small, hardbound pocket journal. You can find instructions for a simple book here, or, to make it even more simple, use this kit from Blick Art Supplies.

It was a delightful afternoon of connection and celebration—my original vision for holding these retreats was to bring some blessingway spirit into our regular lives, rather than only centered on being pregnant and I think that purpose was achieved.

This post is crossposted at Woodspriestess.

I’m a winner!

A couple of weeks ago, Kristin from Birthing Beautiful Ideas shared a giveaway of a lovely wire wrapped tree pendant from Home Baby Crafts. I’d never heard of them before, but the pendant was gorgeous so I became a Facebook fan and entered the giveaway, as did several of my own Facebook friends when they saw me clicking that “like” button. I am a fan of a lot of Facebook pages and because of the intricacies and oddities of how FB chooses to show information, I don’t necessarily see all the stuff from all the pages that I want to see. The following week, I got a mysterious FB message from my husband’s aunt just saying, “you won!” I dismissed it as Facebook spam of some kind. Three days later, another mysterious message came, saying only, “did you see that you won?” I got ready to delete that message too, thinking, I’ve got to write to her and tell her that her account is sending me spam messages, but when I went to her page to do so, I noticed that Home Baby Crafts was a liked page we had in common. I thought about that lovely tree pendant…could that be what her Facebook messages were about?! I quickly went to Home Baby Crafts and oh my goodness, the page owner was doing a “final call”—i.e. “Molly Remer is the grand prize winner, does anyone know her? I will re-draw another winner.” Oh my! I leaped to respond and to send my address, etc. (discovering in the process that Cassandra from Home Baby Crafts had indeed messaged me to let me know of my winning nature, but that FB had routed it to the nearly invisible “other” folder that I never look in).

Anyway, yesterday it arrived and it is thoroughly, awesomely gorgeous. I love it!

20120627-113934.jpg

I’m wearing it when I teach tonight!

Cassandra also makes these totally cool baby-in-the-womb pendants too:

I want one!

But, speaking of teaching, look at this person who is modeling her new pendant…does she look 100%?

20120627-113941.jpg

NOOOOOO! I have had a little cold and now I’ve ended up with laryngitis. It didn’t really hit me until yesterday afternoon after having fun visiting my friend at the pool. If she wasn’t so much fun to talk to, I might still have my voice! ;-D I’ve taught with laryngitis before and it was pretty much totally sucky, but I DID IT. It looks like I’m going to be doing so again in about two hours (for a five hour class). I’d SO rather not. It was embarrassing, frustrating, uncomfortable, and just generally awful to do it before and I was totally cool with that being a one time experience.

At least I can rest in the assurance that I’m a winner. And, wear a fabulous new necklace. That helps!

Also, in a fun little twist, I think the necklace looks like it was custom-made to go with the beautiful new logo we have for our local birth network:

Breastfeeding as a Spiritual Practice

Note: This is a preprint of the following article:  Remer, M. (2012). Breastfeeding as a spiritual practice. Restoration Earth: An Interdisciplinary Journal for the Study of Nature & Civilization, 1(2), 39–43. Copyright © The Authors. All rights reserved. For reprint information contact: oceanseminary@verizon.net.

Click here for a typset pdf version of the original article.

The article was constructed from several of my prior blog posts, so if you’re familiar with my blog, a lot of the content here will sound familiar!

Breastfeeding as a Spiritual Practice

By Molly Remer, MSW, ICCE, CCCE

Every single human being was drummed into this world by a woman, having listened to the heart rhythms of their mother.

––Connie Sauer

When I became a mother, many things in my life changed. I was startled and dismayed by the magnitude in which my free time diminished and one by one many of my leisure pursuits and hobbies were discarded. The time for one of my favorite hobbies increased exponentially, however: reading. As a child I was a voracious reader—my mother had to set a limit for me of “only two books a day.” In college and graduate school, reading for fun fell away and I spent six years reading primarily textbooks and journal articles. In the years following, I began to read for pleasure again and when my first baby was born in 2003, I once again became a truly avid reader. Why? Because of breastfeeding. As I nursed my little son, I read and read and read. This became the rhythm of our lives: suck, swallow, read, and consider.

At first I scoured The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding and the Sears’ The Baby Book to try to make sense of my new life and then began to gobble up books about motherhood and women’s experiences of mothering. Reading did actually help me adjust to motherhood. Subtitled “Breastfeeding as a Spiritual Practice,” an article published in the fall 2003 issue of Mothering magazine was immensely meaningful to me. My baby was about two weeks old when the magazine arrived—the first issue I had received after his birth. This article was in it and it was exactly what I needed to read. Breastfeeding can be a meditative and spiritual act––it is actually a “practice” a “discipline” of sorts. The author, Leslie Davis, explains it better:

I realized I’d never before devoted myself to something so entirely. Of course I’ve devoted myself to my husband, to my family, to friends, to my writing, to mothering, and even to God and other spiritual endeavors at various points in my life…I’d completely given myself to this act of nursing in a way that I never had before. Nothing was more important than nursing my son. Nothing was put before it. There was no procrastination as with exercise, no excuses as with trying to stop eating sugar, no laziness as with housecleaning and other chores. Nursing had to be done, and I did it, over and over again, multiple times a day, for more than 800 days in a row. It was the closest thing to a spiritual practice that I’d ever experienced. 

With my first baby, viewing the act of breastfeeding through a spiritual lens like this was a lifeline to me as a vulnerable, sensitive, and bruised postpartum woman trying desperately to adjust my pace as an overachieving “successful” independent person to one spending hours in my nursing chair attached to a tiny mouth. I marvel at the uncountable number of times I spent nursing my first son and then my second son and now my daughter.  The intensity and totality of the breastfeeding relationship is extremely profound—it requires a more complete physical/body investment with someone than you will ever have with anyone else in your life, including sexual relationships. While I don’t like to lump the breastfeeding relationship in the same category with sex, because it feels like I’m saying breastfeeding is sexual, when it isn’t…though, since lactation is definitely part of a woman’s reproductive functions, I guess maybe it is…my basic line of thought was that if you nurse a couple of kids through toddlerhood, odds are high that you will have nursed them many more times than you will end up having sex with a partner in your entire lifetime.

I calculated that so far in my life I’ve put a baby to my breast more than 12,000 times. Even if I only experienced a single moment of mindful awareness or contemplation or transcendence or sacredness during each of those occasions, that is one heck of a potent, dedicated, and holy practice. In the unique symbiosis of the nursing relationship, I recall a quote from the book The Blue Jay’s Dance (1996) by Louise Erdrich about male writers from the nineteenth century and their longing for an experience of oneness and seeking the mystery of an epiphany. She says: “Perhaps we owe some of our most moving literature to men who didn’t understand that they wanted to be women nursing babies.” (p. 148)

I have learned a lot about the fundamental truth of relatedness through my own experiences as a mother. Relationship is our first and deepest urge. The infant’s first instinct is to connect with others. Before an infant can verbalize or mobilize, she reaches out a hand to her mother. I have seen this with my own babies. Mothering is a profoundly physical experience. The mother’s body is the baby’s “habitat” in pregnancy and for many months following birth. Through the mother’s body the baby learns to interpret and to relate to the rest of the world and it is to mother’s body that she returns for safety, nurturance, and peace. Birth and breastfeeding exist on a continuum as well, with mother’s chest becoming baby’s new “home” after having lived in her womb for nine months. These thoroughly embodied experiences of the act of giving life and in creating someone else’s life and relationship to the world are profoundly meaningful.

How many generations of women have pushed out their babies and fed them at the breast without knowing the exact mechanics of reproduction, let alone milk production. There are all kinds of historical myths and “rules” about breastmilk and breastfeeding and even ten years ago we used to think the inner structure of the breast was completely different than what we think it is like now. Guess what? Our breasts still made milk and we still fed our babies, whether or not we knew exactly how the milk was being produced and delivered. Body knowledge, in this case, definitely still trumped scientific knowledge. I love that feeling when I snuggle down to nurse my own baby—my body is producing milk for her regardless of my conscious knowledge of the patterns or processes. And, guess what, humans cannot improve upon it. The body continues to do what the human mind and hand cannot replicate in a lab. And, has done so for millennia. I couldn’t make this milk myself using my brain and hands and yet day in and day out I do make it for her, using the literal blood and breath of my body, approximately 32 ounces of milk every single day for the last seventeen months. That is beautiful.

A simple meditation technique to use while breastfeeding is: “breathing in, I am nursing my baby. Breathing out, I am at peace.

Parenting as a Spiritual Practice

The spirituality of daily life with children is not only to be found in the breastfeeding relationship, but is woven into the warp and weft of the daily tasks of parenting with mindfulness, connection, and love. In this simple little verse from Eileen Rosensteel in the 2011 We’Moon Datebook, she describes it thusly:

My prayers are

The food I cook

The children I hug

The art I create

The words I write

I need no religion. (p. 152)

In the book Tying Rocks to Clouds (1996) the author interviews Stephen Levine, the father of three children and in response to a question about whether serious spiritual development is possible when having relationships with others (spouse, children, etc.) he says: “Talk about a fierce teaching. It is easier to sit for three years in a cave than to raise a child from the time he is born to three years old.” (p 160)

In the book, The Tao of Motherhood (2011) (literally the Tao Te Ching for mothers—a translation of the ancient Tao Te Ching by Lao-Tzu, but reworked slightly so that every “chapter” is about mothering and mothering well) a quote from the end of the chapter on selflessness:

“You can sit and meditate while

your baby cries himself to sleep.

Or you can go to him and share

his tears, and find your Self.”

And, then from Peggy O’Mara’s (1993) collection of essays, The Way Back Home, she raises this question: “Why is it that to rise gladly at 4:00 am to meditate and meet one’s God is considered a religious experience, and yet to rise at 4:00 am to serve the needs of one’s helpless child is considered the ultimate in deprivation?” (p. 19) O’Mara continues by explaining,

One can learn sitting meditation by rocking and nursing a little one to sleep; one can learn reclining meditation by staying still to avoid disturbing a little one who has been awake for hours; and one can learn walking meditation by walking and swaying with a little one who would like to be asleep for hours. One must learn to breathe deeply in a relaxed and meditative manner in order to still the mind that doubts one’s strength to go on, that sees every speck of dust on the floor and wants to clean it, and that tempts one to be up and about the busyness of accomplishment… (p. 19)

I do find that I have a tendency to think about my own spiritual practices as something that has to wait until I am alone, until I have “down time,” until I have space alone in my head in which to think and to be still. On the flip side, as I noted earlier, the act of breastfeeding, day in and day out, provides all manner of time for spiritual contemplation and meditative reflection. I often find it difficult to stay centered and grounded in mindfulness of breath and spirit during the swirl of life with little ones. I’ve done a lot of reading about “Zen parenting” type topics and it seems like it would be so simple to integrate mothering with mindfulness. Then, I find myself frazzled and scattered and self-berating, and wonder what the heck happened to my Zen. Then, I read an interesting article about anger and Zen Buddhism that clarified that meditation and Zen practices are not about being serene and unfrazzled, but about being present and able to sit with it all. And, it offered this helpful reminder:

I used to imagine that spiritual work was undertaken alone in a cave somewhere with prayer beads and a leather-bound religious tome. Nowadays, that sounds to me more like a vacation from spiritual work. Group monastic living has taught me that the people in your life don’t get in the way of your spiritual practice; these people are your spiritual practice. (Haubner, 2012, “The Angry Monk”)

I don’t need to wait to be alone in order to be “spiritual” in this life with my babies. This sometimes messy, sometimes chaotic, sometimes serene, sometimes frazzling, often joyful life is it.

Motherhood is an intensely embodied experience. It is profoundly empowering to know that you can build a whole person and sustain their lives with nothing but the materials of your own body—this is my blood, my milk, made flesh.

Molly Remer, MSW, ICCE, CCCE is a certified birth educator, writer, and activist who lives with her husband and children in central Missouri. She is the editor of the Friends of Missouri Midwives newsletter, a breastfeeding counselor, a professor of human services, and doctoral student in women’s spirituality at Ocean Seminary College. She blogs about birth, motherhood, and women’s issues at https://talkbirth.me/

References

Davis, L. (2003). Breathing in: I am nursing my baby. Mothering, Issue 120, September/October 2003 (pages unknown—electronic version available here: http://mothering.com/breastfeeding/breathing-i-am-nursing-my-baby-breastfeeding-spiritual-practice)

Erdrich, L. (1996). The Blue Jay’s Dance. New York, NY: Harper Perennial

Haubner, S. J. (September/October, 2012). The angry monk. Utne. Retrieved from http://www.utne.com/Mind-Body/Angry-Monk-Buddhism-Zen-Spiritual-Practice.aspx?page=5 on March 1, 2012.

Elliott, W. (1996). Tying rocks to clouds. New York: Doubleday.

McClure, V., & Thoele, S. P. (2011). The Tao of motherhood. Novato, CA: New World Library.

O’Mara, P. (1993). The way back home. Santa Fe, NM: Mothering Magazine

Rosensteel, E. (2011). Untitled. In We’Moon datebook (p. 152 ). Wolfcreek, OR: Mother Tongue Ink & We’Moon Company.

—-


Pinterest Day!

Last Friday, my oldest son suggested that we have a “Pinterest Day–all the stuff we do today comes from Pinterest!” So, I said okay and we had an overall delightful day. It was not without some pain (details + photo to follow) and it was shockingly exhausting too. We decided to keep up the trend perhaps on each Friday. It is so easy to pin-it-and-forget-it, or to pin things that you have no intention of ever doing (I joke that I need a separate board titled, “things I like to pretend I’m going to do some day). I also got Instagram on my phone finally and so in this post you will also be treated to random, not very skillful edits of the pictures of our various projects…

The boys were super excited and took some pictures of themselves while waiting for me to get ready:
20120620-133307.jpg

Zander chose first and we made these peanut butter cheerio treats. We used organic chocolate o’s from Big Lots, rather than the called for PB Cheerios. We also used giant, ridiculous marshmallows also from Big Lots rather than the mini mallows called for:

20120620-133249.jpg

They were pretty delicious.

Lann chose to make these homemade “Cheez-Its.”
20120620-133402.jpg

The results were clearly a case for which this meme was created:

I’d put the dough in the fridge between waxed paper and the paper somehow melted/fused into the dough. It was almost impossible to roll out–not to mention took FOREVER to scrape away all of the melted in waxed paper. I guess we added too much water–it went from crumbles to sticky very suddenly. I thought chilling it would solve the issue, but I probably should have just added more flour.

It was too sticky to cut before baking, so I cut them afterward. They were not crunchy, but guess what, they were delicious. We ate them all up and Mark didn’t even get to try one!

20120620-133408.jpg

Then, we decided to make homemade shrinky dinks using hard-to-find #6 plastic. We located some minimal amounts from cracker/cookie packages and the boys had fun making their designs while Alaina tried to snag all the permanent marks and rip their lids off:
20120620-133419.jpg

20120620-133429.jpg

They sort of really worked…

20120620-133706.jpg

20120620-133714.jpg

Then, Pinterest Day devolved into PAINterest day when after getting up from naptime, Alaina accidentally stabbed me full-force in the wide open eye with a corner of one of the shrinky dinks.

It was horrible. I thought I might be permanently damaged. I thought I would probably have to go to the doctor. I thought my eyeball was possibly punctured. It burned, it watered. I couldn’t open it. It felt like it had a chunk of gravel stuck in it. By the next morning though it was down to feeling a little sandy/gritty and by that night it was totally back to normal. What a relief!

Despite my suffering, the fun had to go on and we made these utterly fabulous potatoes to have with dinner:
20120620-133720.jpgThey tasted like good fried potatoes, only they were baked. After the painstaking slicing of the potatoes into thin slices (which Mark then informed me I could have done with the food processor rather than by hand), I sprinkled them with 3TB olive oil, 1TB of italian seasoning, and 1ts of salt. I also sprinkled them with Parmesan cheese and they baked for probably over 40 minutes. Very delicious. We’re having them again tonight. Official Pinterest win!

I also need a pinboard titled, “Nutella in ALL THE THINGS!” Couldn’t resist making at least one Nutella recipe–these weird little cookies:

20120620-133727.jpg
Only three ingredients: 1 cup Nutella, 1 c. flour, and one egg. They turned out pretty dry, but quite delicious and we quickly scarfed them all down. We made them again the next day and I used half the flour thinking I was a genius and they were super floppy, greasy, and kind of gross flat cookies then.

We continued with a carb-heavy dinner and made these supposedly delightful 30 minute dinner rolls:

20120620-133813.jpgThey were so-so. Tasted lots more like biscuits or a quick bread even though they used yeast. I make good bread already, so I really shouldn’t have experimented and should have stuck with my existing, delightful recipe that is plenty easy and turns out tastier.

On Father’s Day we continued our pinteresting lives by making homemade Reese’s eggs:

20120620-133913.jpg

I used melted Ghiradelli chocolate chips for the outside. Some milk chocolate, some dark chocolate. In case you can’t tell from the picture, they were totally awesome. Will definitely make again. They were pretty fast too.

So, now, here is it Friday again! And…despite the eye-incident from PAINterest day, we decided to give it another go. An abbreviated version today since the boys went to see the Wizard of Oz at the theater in town with my parents and are there now (and Alaina is napping and this post is taking me WAY longer to write than it should, especially because no one really cares!!!)

But, I surprised the kids this morning with the “cookie dough popsicles I made and froze last night so they’d be ready for Pinterest Day today…

20120622-140733.jpg

I used chocolate almond milk and mini chocolate chips and 1/3 cup of brown sugar and some vanilla. I shouldn’t have used the sugar, because they would have been sweet enough with it! I froze them in ice cube trays with toothpick sticks, so they were mini-popsicles/bite size.

Alaina was pleased with them too:
20120622-140739.jpg

We also took a take two at the homemade Cheez-Its. They turned out different this time. I also did away with the waxed paper and the chilling and the rolling and just dropped them on the sheet with a spoon. Still delicious and still nothing like a cracker!

20120622-140745.jpgPinterest Day was a really fun experience overall and I highly recommend it, because really, what is the point of pinning all that stuff if you just go back the next day and pin more and never actually DO any of it? (or even remember you pinned it!) I think this is our new Friday fun plan! 🙂

Z is Six Already!

On Memorial Day weekend six years ago, this is what I looked like:

Polka dot bathing suit…never worn before or since… (date on picture is wrong, really taken the 28)

A couple of hours later, this is what I looked like:

Zander’s first nursing.

I can hardly believe that he is SIX already! I feel like my oldest kid should be six, not my second one! Zander is amazing. He is super funny—perhaps the funniest kid around—he is also brave and spontaneous and silly and witty and kind of wild. He is impulsive and smart, draws great pictures, and comes up with the most off-the-wall comments about life. He has a fabulous imagination that is always working overtime. He has a flair for the dramatic and a tendency towards the gruesome and macabre. He is a great brother—he is the most generous of my kids and is always looking out for his brother.

Zander’s birth story.

Couple of pictures to share of current Zander!

20120528-122924.jpg

Drawing is one of his favorite activities!

20120528-123000.jpg

Attitude!

20120528-123125.jpg

Big enough to drive a go-kart himself!

I love this series of photos that sums up his feisty, imaginative spirit!

20120528-123203.jpg

What’s this?!

20120528-123228.jpg

Mysterious stranger in my living room…

20120528-123251.jpg

A different look with wild hair now…

20120528-123311.jpg

Oh! It’s really Zander! My Zander!

And birthday party fun!

20120528-122844.jpg

Carefully constructed Star Wars cake for his birthday party–homemade orange frosting colored with natural dye, first-ever try at making layers, and ample toys to make up for many failings!

For Zander’s birthday party on Monday we dressed in our matching Creeper t-shirts (Minecraft)!

20120528-222112.jpg

Yep, we’re a little geeky. Creeper shirts from thinkgeek.com

Changing Visions

I’ve been moving in this direction for quite some time— really probably since my miscarriage-birth experience in late 2009—but I’ve decided that it is officially time for me to take a break from actively teaching birth classes. When I first started teaching in 2005, I envisioned having classes with 5-6 couples at a time. I quickly realized that the area didn’t really support that client volume–at least not with clients with similar due dates and similar interests in natural birth. I never intended to teach general/generic childbirth education, but focused on designing my classes for women planning for physiological, low-intervention (“natural” or unmedicated) births. I never apologized for that emphasis and my focus is what distinguished me from the locally available hospital-based classes that were free of charge. It became clear to me that my niche was in personalized, private, one-on-one birth education and I spent years delighting in the close relationships formed by working privately with couples rather than in a group. During these years I did teach some group classes as the opportunity and occasion arose and they were not as fulfilling or enriching for me as the one-on-one sessions. I think the pregnant women really benefit from the camaraderie of interacting with other pregnant women, but my relationship with the fathers-to-be and with the couple as a unit is nothing like it is when the couple is on their own with me.

Losing my spark

I also realized that I felt most satisfied and like I was making a genuine contribution/difference if I had clients during every month of the year. I set this intention for myself in 2007 and was able to meet my goal for the subsequent years. After I started teaching college classes, however, I found that I used up a lot of my teaching energy in the college classroom and that birth classes started to feel like more of a drain on my resources than a joy. I also realized that they were not very economically sensible and I became frustrated with having to pack up all my supplies and haul them to town with me each time I needed to teach. Having a new baby fanned the flames of my spirit for birth education again and I found that the spark that had been wavering since Noah died had re-ignited somewhat. However, the damage as it were, was done, in that teaching privately no longer made sense to me from a financial standpoint nor did it make sense from a maternal standpoint—I didn’t want to leave my baby behind to go teach class and I also found that in taking her with me, my attention was splintered and my clients didn’t necessarily get the best from me. Now that she is big enough to leave with my husband while I teach, I find myself “maxed out” with my college teaching schedule (which is only one night a week—who knows how I’d feel if it was more!) and other interests and the thought of trying to work in a series of private birth classes seems like a hurdle that I do not wish to struggle with. I coped for a while by trying to host the classes in my home (which is out-of-town), but that presents its own set of challenges. And, when I am home, I want to be home, not preparing birth class handouts or trying to shuffle the kids off to my parents’ house so that clients can come in for class. I love to be at home. I love where I live. As I wrote on Facebook recently, it is my soul place here.

Give points

As I am wont to do, I once again find myself looking around my life and schedule trying to find “give points” that allow me the life-work-passion-rest balance that best nourishes me, my family, my spirit, and my home life. This time, I find the give point is teaching face-to-face classes. It is hard to let go. I’ve worked on building this for years. I love the work. I have fear that what if someone else “takes over.” I have fear that I’ve “wasted” all of this training and effort. I have fear that I won’t be able to start again if I quit. However, as I’ve noted before, I’m very black-and-white when it comes to my responsibilities. I can either do something or STOP doing something. It doesn’t work for me to wait for things or “come back to it later” or “take a break for now.” I’m either doing it or I’m quitting. And, I always feel the need to “officially” decree this—I can’t just let things slide, or neglect them, I need to officially make the break or split from the task or responsibility. I have accepted that this is how I work and how I feel about tasks and while it is not true of everyone it IS true of me and I need to work with what I know of myself in this way. So, as of today, I am not planning to accept any new clients for the remainder of the year and I’m updating my business side of this site accordingly. I find it so interesting that the blog side of my site is where I have really developed a following and created relationships, and reach women’s lives around the world, even though I originally started it just to provide information for my few little clients here in rural Missouri. Birth writing is my other niche, the one that I feel like continuing to develop. As I’ve written before, I realized several years ago that writing this blog and my other articles is a legitimate form of “doing” childbirth education as well and perhaps actually has more impact than in-person classes (though, in-person classes are not replaceable in terms of the relational aspect).

New directions

Since 2009, I’ve also felt “called” to develop my other birth interests such as birth art facilitation, prenatal yoga, prenatal fitness, childbirth educator trainings, writing books, and pregnancy/birth retreats as well as my interest in women’s spirituality, women’s retreats, and women’s rituals in general. I feel like my interests in helping other women are deepening, maturing, and evolving from these roots in birth work. I think making this official break with my former means of birth education opens up the space in my life and my heart to develop those other areas of my interest and perhaps what I return to offer will be “bigger” and of more value to women and to my community.

When I applied to my doctoral program I had to write an extensive application letter responding to a variety of questions about my interest in the program. To me, applying to (and now participating in) this program represents an integration of something I feel with my mind, heart, and spirit. My whole being. As I wrote in my application, in women’s spirituality I glimpse the multifaceted totality of women’s lives and I long to reach out and serve the whole woman.I wish to extend my range of passion to include the full woman’s life cycle, rather than focus on the maternal aspect of the wheel of life as I have done for some time. I want to create rituals that nourish, to plan ceremonies that honor, to facilitate workshops that uncover, to write articles that inform, and to teach classes that inspire the women in my personal life, my community, and the world.

I also responded to this question:

Who/what inspires you?

I long to speak out the intense inspiration that comes to me from the lives of strong women.” –Ruth Benedict

I believe that these circles of women around us weave invisible nets of love that carry us when we’re weak and sing with us when we’re strong.” –SARK, Succulent Wild Woman

I am most inspired by the everyday women surrounding me in this world. Brave, strong, vibrant, wild, intelligent, complicated women. Women who are also sometimes frightened, depressed, discouraged, hurt, angry, petty, or jealous. Real, multifaceted, dynamic women. Women who keep putting one foot in the front of the other and continue picking themselves back up again when the need arises.

I am also inspired by women from the past who worked for social justice and women’s rights—women who lived consciously and deliberately and with devoted intention to making the world a better place. Jane Addams, Susan B. Anthony, Clara Barton. Women who have studied and written about feminist spirituality—such as Carol Christ, Hallie Ingleheart, Patricia Mongahan, and Barbara Ardinger–are also a source of inspiration. As a mother, I find additional inspiration in the self-care encouraging writings of Jennifer Louden and Renée Trudeau.

My children have provided a powerful source of inspiration and motivation. I wish to model for them a life lived as a complete, fully developed human being. After birthing three sons, I gave birth to a daughter in January, 2011. I always envisioned having daughters and felt well-prepared to raise a “kick-ass” girl. Having sons first presented me with a different type of inspiration (and, to me, a deeper challenge)—to raise healthy men. Men who treat women well and who are balanced, confident, loving, compassionate people. I came to think of myself as a mother of sons exclusively and was very surprised to actually have a girl as my last child. When I found out she was a girl, my sense of “like carries like/like creates like” was very potent and my current need to participate in the creation of a world in which she can bloom to her fullest is very strong.

My own inner fire inspires me—my drive to make a difference and to live well and wisely my one wild and precious life. Good conversations, time alone with my journal, time alone outdoors sitting on a big rock, and simple time in the shower provides additional fuel for this inner fire.

I have both a scholar’s heart and a heart for service. I wish to live so that my life becomes a living, embodied prayer for social change and to do work that is both spiritually based and woman affirming.

It is time for me to move forward with this expanded vision for what I’d like to offer to the world…

Happy Mother’s Day!

Blessed be all mothers.
Blessed be all the mothers of mothers.
Blessed be all the daughters of mothers.
Blessed be all the children of mothers.
Now, and forever.
Amen.
–WATER (Women’s Alliance for Theology, Ethics and Ritual)

Happy Mother’s Day!

I keep feeling like making some big, philosophical, insightful post today and I also keep wanting to share some of the great articles I’ve read lately (my file of things to blog about has reached epic proportions). I also have stacks of draft posts partially written and waiting to be polished and posted. And, then, I realized that this feeling–at least in the moment–was primarily rooted in “should” and that what I really want to do today is to take a break, to rest, to read and to wallow in my stacks of books, and to maybe make some art. So, just a quick update post sharing some pictures from today and from our homeschool field trip to the Botanical Garden in St. Louis (we also had another appointment at the pediatric dentist for Alaina since the filling that I was so happy about last week fell out the following day. This trip was pretty traumatic–she was restrained in the baby wrap thing and it was awful for us both–but it’s over now and so I’m not going to spend any more time thinking about it).

So, Mother’s Day. Mark made me this beautiful new pendant with birthstones included for all the kids:

20120513-150509.jpg

We went to the flower communion at my little UU church and the boys surprised me with new lilies to plant. They also made me great cards–Lann’s has a cool drawing of the Goddess of Willendorf and Zander’s has a sweet note saying, “I love MOOM” ;-D Mark picked up sushi for lunch and we took it home to eat.

20120513-150518.jpg

I made a new three generations polymer clay goddess sculpture for my mom to replace the one I’d made for her after Alaina’s birth that got accidentally broken. I actually like this one better than the original. It is only the second three generations sculptures I’ve ever made–she’s special!

20120502-201537.jpg

20120513-152736.jpg

The delightful reasons I’m a mother! (picture taken by my aunt during her visit last month–I just love it!)

Now some pictures from our homeschool field trip to the Missouri Botanical Garden:

20120513-152813.jpg

Serious watchage of koi…

20120513-152822.jpg

With friends in a model canoe!

20120513-223311.jpg

With friends in a model covered wagon!

20120513-152834.jpg

Laina’s big enough to climb all the way up the stairs in the watchtower by the shrubbery maze!

20120513-152944.jpg

Koi feeding was a major hit with all.

20120513-152931.jpg

Different day–trying to show some cute corduroy pants I bought at a yard sale when I was pregnant with Zander. I later gave them to my friend when she had a girl saying that I was probably never going to end up using them since I probably wouldn’t end up ever having a girl. Last week when I visited my friend on my birthday, she gave the pants back to me! How special! So, I had to put them on Alaina even though it is really too hot for them right now.

In other news, it’s a good month for publications! My peer-reviewed journal article about prenatal yoga was published in the International Journal of Childbirth Education this month and my review of The Five Ways We Grieve appeared in the same issue. And, my articles for the journal Restoration Earth about breastfeeding as a feminist issue and parenting as a spiritual practice should be out next week! I’m really proud of both of those articles, because they represent something of a departure from my typical audience as well as a somewhat different twist on some of my usual topics. That said, a lot of the content of both articles have roots in posts I wrote for this blog, so perhaps it isn’t much of a departure after all. In fact, when I posted about these publications on Facebook earlier in the week, I had this realization:

In case anyone is wondering, “how did she have time for articles while grading those 50 papers,” I didn’t. I revised the ICEA articles in December (from an article originally written in 2007 and a review written for my blog in 2010) and I wrote the two for Restoration Earth in March on my break from class (again pieced together from blog posts written over several years). Not that I need to explain myself, but this writing/publishing thing is not a quick process and I think sometimes people think I just magically write articles and have them appear in print that same month. And, these publications prove to me again that my blog is not a waste of time at all–all kinds of article seeds are found there! 🙂 Go, bloggers! You’re producing a genuine body of work!

Since writing the above, I also thought about how many seeds for my dissertation can probably also be found here. Though the bulk of my writing for it is probably still a couple of years away, I’m constantly finding articles and quotes and having thoughts and ideas related to my dissertation subject and I will continue to collect and store them in this way as the ideas deepen, grow, and expand.

*blessing modified slightly from the original.

Polymer Clay Goddess Experiments

A couple of months ago, I attempted to branch out from my usual style of polymer clay goddess figures (see past birth art posts). I’m not particularly satisfied with any of them, but I had this post saved in my drafts to share pictures of them anyway! I have some new translucent sculpey that I’ve been working with without very satisfactory results. It is stickier and meltier than regular sculpey, which makes it a challenge to work with. The figures don’t hold their shapes/poses as well while baking and the clay also folds into itself and sticks very firmly and it is hard to reposition/refigure things after having let it stick accidentally before you’re ready). Anyway, I tried to make this sort of “siren” (double-tailed mermaid) figure first and she’s all right:

20120502-201513.jpg

I also tried a figure using only the translucent sculpey. She turned out looking like she should glow in the dark!

20120502-201525.jpg

I also had a vision of making a sculpture with a small “offering bowl” in which you could place a crystal or something else. She kind of sagged over to one side in the oven though. She is my first figure with a face too!

20120502-201546.jpg

So, I tried again. This one sits on her own (leaning back very far), but I burned her by mistake!

20120502-201554.jpg

So, I tried one more time. This one I used gold pigment on and I don’t really like how she turned out either. Back to the drawing (sculpting) board, I guess. After this third attempt I kind of gave up on my vision and haven’t tried to make any more in this style again.

20120519-202418.jpg

At the same time that I was experimenting with these figures, I also experimented with using a rubber stamp and pigment to make a flat disk of sculpey with the embossed sort of impression of my Goddess of Willendorf stamp on it. I then used that disk when I took a class in making a stained glass panel:

20120519-202432.jpg

My panel is on the left and Mark’s is on the right:

20120519-202441.jpg

Then, this past weekend I became ordained as a priestess (more about this later) and after that ceremony I decided to make another figure to add to my series. I’ve never made a standing figure before and she needs some work. I’m lukewarm about her–she didn’t turn out the way I’d envisioned and I need to experiment some more before I really add her to my series of 3-D journaling sculptures.

Birthday!

Today is my birthday and my mom sent me a guest post about my own birth!

Molly’s Birth Story (33 years later)
May 3, 2012

At the time of Molly’s birth in 1979, we lived in a 10 x 30, un-insulated building – a shack, really – and were completely off the grid. We used wood for cooking/heat, and kerosene and candles for light. We hauled in drinking water, and bathed in rain water. We had no phone, electricity, or plumbing and shared a vehicle. Many people were appalled at our decision to homebirth (fortunately, they couldn’t call us to yell about it!). Midwives were completely hidden and underground. I had two dear friends, both nurses, who agreed to attend the birth.

I was very close to term, and we were concerned that I would begin labor at home (with no phone or car) while Tom was away at work, so I spent those final days of pregnancy hanging around at the homes of neighbors and friends. Labor began while with neighbors, and continued to progress throughout the evening. It was a wild night – raging thunderstorms, torrential rain, and incessant lightning. It became apparent that this was true labor, so Tom had to leave me alone in our tiny home to go find a phone to call our support people. They arrived by midnight, and I continued to labor throughout the night, culminating in 2 hours of pushing and the arrival of a beautiful, sweet baby girl! I’ll never forget the surreal feeling of contractions punctuated by lightning and thunder. Towards the end, I was actually falling asleep between contractions and still remember the dreams I had…..

Unfortunately, I sustained a large tear, and was unable to push to release the placenta. We had to pack up, borrow a 4-wheel drive truck, and slip and slide through the mud to a doctor who had agreed to provide postpartum care if needed. I was curled up on the seat with baby Molly – this was before car seats were in use! I lamented having to go out in such horrible conditions. The tear was major, and took 42 stitches, making my days of postpartum recovery very difficult. Nothing daunted, I went on to have 3 more children at home – still off the grid, still with no indoor plumbing, but some of the time with a car and a phone for the last two.

This experience – having my first baby – was a transcendent transformation. I became a mother at that moment, and being a mother is still a defining element of my personality and identity. Molly grew to adulthood altogether too fast, and even though she stands before me now as a mother herself, I will never forget the infant, child, and teenager that she was. We’re inextricably linked, and while I marvel at our sameness, I also celebrate our differentness.

I had 2 favorite books that I read to prepare for a very rustic homebirth – Spiritual Midwifery, by Ina May Gaskin, and Special Delivery, by Rahima Baldwin. These books are still being recommended to birthing women, and while the climate of homebirth is certainly in transition, each woman must find her own path through the labyrinth of birth.

Who knew, when I was planning a homebirth all those years ago, that Molly would grow to be the birth advocate and authority that she has become? Perhaps my decision to homebirth had some sort of deep-seated and profound influence on her!

Happy birthday to an amazingly intelligent, witty, loquacious, creative, generous, intuitive, compassionate and productive daughter. I am incredibly proud of the woman you have become, and I love you beyond all reason.

Love,
Mom

She also uploaded a photo of me at 11 months–we think Alaina looks like me 🙂

20120503-220345.jpg

I also had this nursing picture already saved on my computer:

Happy Birth Day to both of us!

Present day…

Today we had to take Alaina to the pediatric dentist in St. Louis to have her front teeth looked at. I thought the four upper front teeth all had decay, but it turned out to be a pretty best case scenario—she only had one actual cavity (some pitting and staining on three others, but not decay) AND the dentist said, “would you like me to just fix it now instead of you having to drive all the way here again from Rolla?” So, not only was the problem more minor than we feared, it is already ALL FIXED! Yay! So, I was able to go on and enjoy the rest of my birthday rather than fretting about her teeth or planning the follow-up visit for the “big work.” We did have a horrible 15 minutes while I held her on my lap and she screamed and cried and they did the work, but that is a tiny blip as far as things go and it was SO much better than the anesthesia route we did with Z (ambulatory surgery clinic admission, etc. Boo on that, especially because most of the work then chipped off—that’s what $5000 or so gets you!). After we got home she was extra clingy and very needy and mama’s girl-ish though, which makes me feel bad because I know she must still be feeling traumatized by the betrayal of being taken somewhere to, essentially, be hurt, trapped, and helpless 😦

After the dentist, we went to my friend’s house who lives in the vicinity. Another friend joined us and we had a little party with a nice lunch and cupcakes. My friend’s kids had blown up balloons and hung them up all over and there was also a great sign hanging in the tree:

I cried when I saw the cute sign! I really miss seeing both these friends on a regular basis, but I also feel thankful that they still live close enough to be within reach!

20120503-220419.jpg

Recovered enough from tooth trauma to swing like a big girl!

On the way home we stopped at the pie shop for the Boston cream pie Mark ordered for us to enjoy with my parents:

20120503-220425.jpg

20120503-220517.jpg

Couldn’t resist taking a picture of the sweaty, wild hair of a traveling baby!

My parents came over bearing gifts and my favorite dinner of beef stroganoff and we also ate the pie. I’m tired, but relieved. I was also feeling weird to be 33 now and said something along the lines of, what happened and is Alaina going to be 33 soon too?! My dad said, “this can never be a long time ago…” and then reminded me that it was a Laura Ingalls Wilder quote:  “…They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago...”

Later, I laid in bed nursing Alaina to sleep and thinking about how my parents remember me as a baby—their baby—but I don’t remember being their baby. And, how this intimacy with Alaina will someday soon be only my memory, not hers (at least not consciously). How strange, because it is so total and so real and so right now…it can never be a long time ago.

New Pictures! (and life musings)

During my aunt’s visit from California two weeks ago, we had a last-minute photo shoot for some Mother’s Day pictures (it wasn’t last minute for my aunt who planned in advance to hire the fabulous Karenfor a photo session, but the addition of me and my crew was last-minute). I’m currently at the end of the another school session with the accompanying 50 papers and finals to grade, so I haven’t had many opportunities to write posts in the last two weeks. I have ideas piling up like crazy though! For now, some of the pictures and thoughts from our recent photo shoot:

I absolutely love this picture! The cheeks, the eyelashes, the puffy hair, the powerful shoulders…

After getting these pictures taken I came across two items on Facebook that made me think about why I want pictures and why I write blog posts. The first was this: A daughter grows from 0 to 12 — in 2 minutes and 45 seconds. The dad videotaped his daughter every week from birth to age 12 and then put a little snippet of footage from each week together into a fast-moving montage of her life. It was a cool project and also so poignant. As I watched it, I thought about my own fast-growing kids and also about a moment I had last month when I was watching Alaina walking away from me on the porch—suddenly I felt fast-forwarded and like I was watching her adult self walk away, like my future self was seeing her and looking back at the porch moment thinking, but she was JUST MY BABY!

So, along those lines, I also enjoyed reading a thoughtful blog post by Stephanie Soderblom about her son’s seventeenth birthday:

When ‘they’ kept saying, “it goes by too fast!”….what ‘they’ mean is that memories don’t fade. My childhood is foggy, a distant memory of playing outside and brief snapshot memories of friends or school. But raising our children – that memory doesn’t get foggy. I remember this almost-17 year-old man’s first week as clearly as I remember this past Christmas. I remember the clothes I dressed him in….I remember the chair I would sit in and rock him. I remember the smell of his silky hair, the feeling of him cuddled up in a little ball between my breasts as I rubbed his back. I remember rejoicing in the tiniest of accomplishments – learning to coo, smiling, rolling to his side – as well as the big ones.

I also remember the insecurity that came with being his mother…

from Left to cry….alone

I really connected to the mention of the children’s memories fading or becoming indistinct, but the parents memories feeling like “just yesterday.” This makes a lot of sense to me and feels true from my own childhood and now with my own kids—being a mother to small people is so sharp and so defining and so all-encompassing that it seems impossible that this phase of life will end. There is an element of initiation to it, of almost a spiritual journey, a defining, core life experience, that I wonder how it will feel to have only teenage children and then young adult children. Will I still identify closely with mothers of toddlers, or will I “move on” and just remember “what it was like” from afar. Since my oldest is only 8, I have a ways to go before I figure that out, but my experiences as a breastfeeding support group leader is that the memory of caring for a small nursling is as sharp and potent as ever (of course, right now it is, since I’ve still got a nursling of my own, but I’m talking about the time during which I was a leader and had no active nurslings).

And, speaking of memories and how childhood memories can be blurry or indistinct or amorphous, I was a little depressed by this observation in a current article in Parents magazine:

For years, I’ve been asking audiences of parents a deceptively simple question: “What was the sweetest moment of your childhood?” I wait so they can come up with a memory, and then I say, “Please raise your hand if your parents were present when that sweetest memory took place.” I have done this with thousands of people and the result never varies much: Around 20 percent say their parents were part of their sweetest memory and 80 percent say their parents weren’t. When audience members turn in their chairs to see the result, they laugh self-consciously. As parents, we hope that we’re laying a foundation of happy memories for our children. When we’re confronted with the fact that our own best memories of childhood took place away from our parents, we’re a bit confused. That’s a slap in the face to dedicated moms and dads. Or is it?…

via Thrive in 2025: How to Raise an Independent Kid.

Bummer! All of this time, energy, and constant life investment isn’t producing any sweetest memories for my kids, only for me?! :::sob::: My own dominant memories of my childhood are actually mostly about my sister. Watching my boys play and appreciating their tightly interwoven lives, I predict they will have the same experience in adulthood. I also have more specific, event-based memories of my dad than I do of my mom and I think that was because he was gone at work during the day—my mom was everpresent and thus it is harder to pick specific memories for her. I think that is one of the good things though—since she was always there, I could rest in that security of presence and affection, rather only focusing on “special occasions” or special days/moments. She was (is) my life’s constant.

(Side note: I’ve found that as my kids grow, I find more to enjoy in Parents magazine. It isn’t a helpful resource for pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding, infancy, or medical care, but many of the articles about older kids have nuggets of interest for me to glean.)

You’ll miss this?

These musings also reminded me of my post from last year: You’ll miss this. I think the intent of my post has been mispercieved by some readers as thinking I’m saying not to savor or appreciate time with my little kids or that I’m somehow thinking that I won’t “miss this”—I most definitely will miss many things, I already miss them with a sharp pang of nostalgia as I in the moment see them passing by, which raises a whole other issue because I want to make sure I’m parenting the child right in front of me, rather than the memory of their baby self or the vision of their future adulthood. I also stand by my personal assessment that  it would hurt my feelings quite a lot to know my mom was spending tons of time thinking wistfully about me as a baby when I’m right here now! Why would I expect to spend the second half of my parenting journey any differently? The current people who my kids are and will hopefully continue to be are so rich and vibrant, that there isn’t much space for “missing this”—they’re right here and I like who they are right now. (I also note that perhaps not everyone picks up on the shaming undercurrent that I perceive—particularly online—in the “you’ll miss this” comment and how it is used by other mothers against each other and against themselves.)

What I know is that there has not been a single day of Alaina’s life that I haven’t savored and appreciated her. Almost every day I experience a moment in which I feel like my heart is breaking open at the sight of her and how she is growing and just how magical and she is. My boys are so very much integrated into my life—I can’t imagine life without them and so my pangs about them are a little less sharp. They also aren’t babies and so the changes they experience aren’t so obvious and striking, they’re more subtle. Lann is getting taller and taller and I can see into the not-too-distant future that he is going to be taller than me. He has grown two inches since last year. My husband was six feet tall by the end of middle school. Lann is going to be nine in September, so doesn’t that mean that I may only have three more years with him as a boy instead of an almost-man?! Ack! Zander continues to surprise me with how bold and confident he is. In my own family, the older sister (me) was the “leader” and the one who was more confident. In our family, while Lann does boss Zander around quite a bit, Zander is the “brave one”—the one who will go talk to people, or turn on the lights in the dark room, or ask questions, or step up and speak up. They are tightly connected and their senses of self are obviously entwined with each other. This is my brother. It is one the deepest and most profound bonds they will ever experience. I feel both lucky that they have this connection, that the genetic dice rolled so compatibly, and also mildly smug, because I think one of the reasons this relationship is possible is because we homeschool. If they were going to separate classrooms all day, I can’t imagine that they’d be quite as close—their “spheres” would be different and Zander would probably be treated like the pesky little brother and Lann would be the bossy big brother, instead of the rock-solid team of best friends that they are.