Spirit of my longing heart, help me to become a force of history. Like a drop of water let me merge and mingle in the currents of my particular time and situation and not hold back, but join what nurtures the earth and soaks the seeds of justice and peace. Let me be the flash point where the light begins to travel at great speed, igniting compassion, that others might see the power of goodness. Let me rush with the winds of change across the desolate plains of greed and selfish desire. Grant me the wisdom to know that the winds of eternal hope blow through my words and deeds. Let me join the sky with its watchful eye and be a witness to life affirmations wherever I see them. Give me the strength to say yes to even the smallest act of mercy. With these powers of earth, of light, of wind, of sky, I will change myself and become a gift of love and power to the story of humankind.
–Stephen Shick in Be the Change: Poems, Prayers, and Meditations for Peacemakers and Justice Seekers
As I clean out my desktop, files, and binders during my Facebook-off retreat, I’m uncovering many gems that I’ve saved to remember. This prayer above is one that I’m “saving” via this blog, rather than continue to store the paper on which it was written. I love prayers like this–written in broad, sweeping language that encompasses any manner of belief systems and that calls upon the natural world and our inherent sense of the mystery and magic of being alive with a sense of reverence and the sacred.
Right after typing this up, I came across a quote by Rachel Carson in Alexandra Stoddard’s Gracious Living in a New World: “What is the value of preserving and strengthening this sense of awe and wonder, this recognition of something beyond the boundaries of human existence? …Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.”
Perhaps it is just a coincidence or simply due to the fact that Alaina took a lovely nap, but this no-Facebook retreat certainly seemed productive today! I decluttered/re-organized the hall closet, wrote two essays for one of my doctoral classes (the last two in this class as I already turned in my final paper earlier in the week), wrote a new blog post (and now this one), caught up on posts with my online classes, graded ALL my midterms (extra thanks to my parents for letting the kids visit for an extra 30 minutes so I could finish the last three), and made homemade spinach and mozzarella focaccia for dinner. Oh, and I did three loads of laundry too and made Nutella cocoa and later “Christmas crunch” candy. The boys worked on their movie, set up a Lord of the Rings scene with little toys, cleaned the living room, played with playdough, drew pictures, planned their party, and danced with Alaina while listening the radio. They also ate large quantities of mini pancakes. Alaina mashed playdough all over floor, human can-openered the lid off the vinegar, tried to get in the fridge, begged to go outside in the rain, gleefully watched small stray puppy eat some table scraps outside, tried to catch kitties, helped me poke the fire, nursed to sleep in Ergo, took nice nap, put playmobil into a houseplant, showed how big she was by picking up the footstool, sneaked into brothers’ room and collected small objects, had a bath, and whacked self in face with a toy horse making a bloody scratch/hole in eyebrow.
Showing eyebrow scratch.
Taking a nursing break in the closet I was cleaning.
Still haven’t done any work on the crocheted Yodas…
“Every single human being was drummed into this world by a woman, having listened to the heart rhythms of their mother.”
-Connie Sauer
We nestle together, lives and hearts entwined. Bodies imprinted at a cellular level.
Greeting 2012 at midnight on January 1.
This is a fully embodied and multisensory experience. My lips on the top of her head, my nose in her hair. Breathing in her smell, feeling her fuzzy hair. Feeling her steady, vulnerable pulse in her skull against my lips. Sometimes I murmur or hum, mmm, so that my lips vibrate at the top of her head, and she answers me, “mmm, mmm, mmm.”
One hand cups the underside of my breast, the other sometimes holds my hand or grips my shirt or necklace, or randomly roams, patting my chest, stroking my belly, or pinching or scratching my skin. It often finds a place of rest near my heart.
I kiss her head. Nuzzle her with my nose and lips. Breathe her in. Breastfeeding is the real deal. The day in and day out fluid of connection and physical relationship. Body based. First habitat. First environment. First relationship—this is how she learns about relating to another, through my body. Through warm connection and synchronized rhythms.
Her head near my shoulder, on my upper arm. Her body in full contact with mine. Legs curl into me, resting on my thighs, or with a foot poked between my legs near my knees, keeping warm. Sometimes I pet her hair or smooth her eyebrows. I touch her cheek, hold her hand or foot or ankle.
We nurse.
—
Explanatory note: last month when I was nursing Alaina to sleep at bedtime, I was thinking about how I never wanted to forget what it felt like to have this breastfeeding relationship with a baby. So, I paid close attention to our physical alignment, etc. and when I got up, I jotted down what my heart had memorized during that time.
It is only when we silence the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of the truth that life reveals to us, as it stands knocking on the doorsteps of our hearts.
Some time around November each year for the last three years, I’ve had a feeling of being “sped up” in my life and a desperate craving of stillness and rest. I begin to feel like pulling inward, “calling my spirit back” and re-integrating fragmented parts. Aside from my family members, I stop feeling like being “of service” to others and their interruptions of my space or requests for my time or attention begin to feel like impositions. I begin to hear the distant call to “retreat.” I crave stillness, rest, and being alone. I fantasize about broad expanses of silent time in which to think and plan and ponder. It then takes me until February to actually act on this urge. So, as of today, I now begin my annual week of retreat. In the past, I’ve done a computer-off retreat. This year, it is a Facebook-off retreat. I keep returning to the persistent feeling of having my life/brain full of digital noise/clutter and envision taking a sabbatical from the constant, hyperactive flow. My good friend wrote a blog post about her decision to take a FB break and that was the last little nudge I needed to take a break myself. The night before reading her post, I’d gone to bed thinking, “any day in which I think, ‘I didn’t have time to XYZ,’ but I DID check FB, is a day that I lied to myself.” I have a somewhat conflictual relationship with Facebook—in most ways I love it and in some ways I feel like it fosters a false sense of connection with others. I do love that it helps me keep up with and maintain real connections with real friends and with long distance family. I also appreciate the way it “smallens” the gap between people and I appreciate the opportunities it offers me to network. And, I appreciate how I am able to use it to support, encourage, and connect with other women I may never meet—it broadens my reach and impact. Finally, I most definitely appreciate it when someone shares one of my blog posts via Facebook! A good deal of my site’s traffic over the last year has come from Facebook.
Digital noise
What I wish to disconnect from it is ALL the digital “noise” in general—FB, email, e-newsletters, free Kindle books, etc.—all the requests for my time and attention. A lot of it originates from Facebook. I’ve mentioned before how if I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t even know about all the stuff I wasn’t doing–instead, it contributes to this false sense of urgency and immediacy about staying “caught up” with everything and everyone.
I still have to teach and parent, so this isn’t a full retreat, but I am taking this FB break. Yesterday, I deleted my FB apps and prepared to take a rest to focus on CREATING rather than consuming. Upon reflection, I realized it sounds like I mean I want to create digital noise, which isn’t what I mean. Though, I do want to spend more time writing blog posts and articles, so I guess that is kind of ironic. Also, I recognize that it is kind of annoying when people make big announcements/declarations about how they are QUITTING FACEBOOK, but I still feel compelled to explain it… ;-D I didn’t delete my account, just the iPhone/iPad apps that make it so easy to check in often. I’ll reinstall them when I’ve had at least a week of mental space. I value the connections I have via FB and don’t want to lose that, but I need some time away to re-clarify my boundaries. I also need to go on a fan page deleting spree as I am a fan of more than 500 pages. ;-D I need QUIET! Space in my head to hear myself think.
Past retreats
On February 1, 2010, the first year I took a personal retreat (this one was a computer-off retreat), I also started to miscarry for the second time. In my journal, I wrote:
At 4:00 this morning, I began to bleed red. I had allowed myself to become hopeful yesterday since there was no spotting increase (until evening)…Today, I am certain that is not the case and I feel dissolved. I am disconnected from this experience and feel unreal and unmoored…I feel SO foolish–WHY did I think I could do this again? Why did I open myself up to this again so soon?
…I cannot believe Zander was the last–last to nurse, to sleep in our bed, to be carried in the Ergo, to watch crawl and learn to walk, to hold in scrunchy newborness. I’m NOT DONE YET. Or, am I?
…I just want to say two things again:
1. I do NOT want people to feel sorry for me again so soon.
2. I feel DUMB.
I do not feel like I am handling this well or with strength. I just feel numb and dumb and done and done for. I am bottoming out right now. Bottom. Pit. Despair.
My nature-loving retreat buddy!
That retreat ended up being a meaningful and spiritually enriching time for me, but it was also full of a lot of darkness and tears.
On February 1, 2011, I had a 13 day old daughter and was enjoying my babymoon with a deeply thankful heart.
And, now on February 1, 2012, I have a robust one year old, whose boundless energy and drive also stimulate my interest in the stillness of retreat!
Why retreat?
Some time ago, I saved this list of why women need retreats (via Jennifer Louden):
I need retreats to remind me who I am.
I need retreats to come home to myself.
I need retreats to connect with the divine feminine.
I need retreats to renew myself.
I need retreats to connect with myself.
I need retreats to connect with others.
I need retreats to rest.
I need retreats to be alone.
I need retreats to find myself.
I need retreats to honor myself.
I need retreats to learn.
I need retreats to dance.
I need retreats to play.
I need retreats to sing.
I need retreats to laugh.
I need retreats to cry.
I need retreats to be myself.
I need retreats to Be.
Yeah. That pretty much sums it up! Though, actually, these are some of the things I wrote down when considering this year’s call to be on retreat:
Drum
Crochet Yoda for boys
Make craft projects with boys
Make doll for Alaina
Go outside
Snuggle!
Make more sculptures
Draw
Journal
Read
WRITE! Tons! Posts, articles, essays for classes.
Be still
Rest
Play!
Plan/brainstorm pregnancy retreats/birth art sessions/prenatal fitness classes—re-vision my plans for birth education
Clean out inbox
Clean up computer room and go through binders/filing cabinets/bookshelves
Declutter in general
Clean out closet and spare room
Review books (hmm. This is a “should do” rather than a want to. I’ve got about 6 that are staring at me and waiting their turn)
I’m no longer foolish enough to think that I’ll ever be able to get “everything done” (because I’m a fascinating, amazing person after all!), but I do feel confident that I can take some steps to gather the whole, improve my focus, and re-commit to my life’s priorities, as well as consider how to best prioritize my time and energy in order to fully “savor and serve” my family and the world.
A nice place to retreat--priestess rocks in the woods behind my house.
I love to sit in this stone "chair" to journal and think and feel. I sat here after my miscarriages. I sat here during my pregnancy. I took newborn Alaina here last February to "introduce" her to the earth. I bring the boys out here to play. I sat here today and thought about the ever-turning wheel of life.
As of this week, my miscarriage memoir, Footprints on My Heart, has finally been published and is now available in eBook format via Kindle and Lulu, Inc. (epub format compatible with Nook and iBooks). There are a few formatting errors and some other general problems (like with the sample/preview–it is totally wonky–and with the lettering on the cover), but guess what, it is DONE, it available, and it is out there. I’m really, really excited about it and I feel this huge sense of relief. I still want to write my Empowered Miscarriage book someday, but for now, this memoir is what I had in me and it will have to do for the time being. I realized after Alaina was born and was, in a sense, the happy “ending” to my Noah story, that in writing my miscarriage blog I had actually ended up writing most of a book. So, the bulk of the book is drawn from my miscarriage blog and from this blog as well (for the pregnancy after loss content). I also included an appendix of resource information/additional thoughts that is fresh.
I’ve felt haunted by the desire to publish this for the entire last year. It took a surprising amount of work, as well as emotional energy, to prepare for publication, even though I actually did most of the actual writing via blog in 2010. Now that it is ready, I just feel lighter somehow and have this really potent sense of relief and ease, as if this was my final task. My final act of tribute. My remaining “to do” in the grief process.
If anyone really, really, really wants it and cannot afford the $3.99 for which I priced it, I do have it available as a pdf file, a mobi file, and an epub file and I will be happy to email it to you in one of those formats.
This is perhaps the most long-overdue post in the history of my blog. Several years ago, The Feminist Breeder wrote a post in which she answered the question, “how do I do it?” I’ve lost the link for her original post, but the gist of her answer was, not alone. She also asked readers to consider who makes up their parenting tribe—who helps them hold it all together. So, I immediately knew that I needed to write about my parents. My original tribe of birth as well as a very significant part of my present-day tribe. Maybe I haven’t written it because I don’t like to feel dependent on other people. I like to feel like I can do everything on my own and that I don’t ever need help. That isn’t true, obviously. (It also isn’t healthy.) So, one of the ways in which I get it all done (which, of course, is actually another post, because I NEVER actually “get it all done”!) is because of my wonderful, amazing, helpful, altogether incredible mom and dad.
I feel in a somewhat unusual situation in that I’m a “second generation” attachment parent. My mom was a homebirthing, breastfeeding, co-sleeping, babywearing, and homeschooling mother before there was even really a name for many of the concepts of gentle parenting, let alone an overarching parenting “philosophy” or, dare I say, dogma surrounding the ideas. (In some ways, I feel like that has added a complication to my own parenting journey—while many parents joyfully discover attachment parenting and then grow into it with the thrill of having found the right fit for their families, I chose attachment parenting before ever having children of my own and thus instead of growing into it, sometimes had to fall from the pedestal of imagined ideals or the pre-conceived ideas I had about what a great, attached mother I was going to be. Again, a subject for another post!)
Anyway, my mom’s own parenting past means I’ve never once had to deal with any kinds of comments questioning my own parenting—she would never dream of asking why I have homebirths or homeschool or when my baby is going to wean. Big grandparenting score right out of the gate! 🙂 Also, they live one mile away. That means my kids get to go visit their grandparents almost every day and I get two hours on my own to do all of my own work. Go ahead and swoon with envy. It is okay. If I didn’t have these two hours (sometimes closer to three), I don’t know how I would do it. I work in my online classes, I grade papers, I write blog posts, I write articles, I work on books, I write assignments in my own doctoral classes. I feel happy and “productive” when the kids come back home and they’re happy too. My parents also will babysit at other times if I need them (for example, having an LLL meeting or a birth class in town). My kids adore them. I don’t know what they would do without them either. It makes me so full of joy to know that my kids have other adults in their lives who love them almost as much as I love them (maybe the same—my dad told me recently that he had no idea he would love his grandkids as much as he loves his own kids).
My dad and my boys
My mom and my girl
Anyway, here’s to my tribe! I love you. I need you. And, I thank you.
At Alaina’s birth time today at 11:15 a.m. I walked our little front yard labyrinth with her while listening to our special song. We got to the middle (and Lann took a picture) and I said, “my baby is here! She’s here! She’s one now!” I also repeated my immediate post-birth comments. Then, we walked out again and I held her up to the sky and she laughed. Then, she directed me with pointing and leaning and uh’ing over to Noah’s tree and put her hand on his plaque. (Lest this sound too shockingly cosmic, I still go out to the tree periodically and put my hand on it, so she knows that is something we do.) It was a nice moment.
Then, she went for some rides on the hammock swing with Lann!
Then, she decided she wanted to swing in the blue swing too!
Looks like a big toddler girl in this picture!
After nap time, it was time for a visit from Baba and Tom and time for some presents! She liked hugging her new Raggedy Ann from aunt Nancy:
“Our lives can sometimes feel like passages through harsh landscapes that shake us to our core. Yet these difficult passages bring us to our most profound transformations. In the midst of heartache and greatest need, we find that grace descends. And at the end of it all, we often discover that we have become someone new, stronger and more alive…the tender moments of heartache, illness and inner strangeness that we all experience at times. They illuminate the path of healing–when awe, self-love and grace touch our very being, leave us breathless, make us whole.” –Carolyn Brigit Flynn (Sisters Singing)
“I have hands big enough to save the world, and small enough to rock a child to sleep.” –Zelda Brown
(I wrote this second quote on the first page of the baby record journal I kept of her first year)
I’ve spent multiple days trying to gather some minutes together to work on a happy birthday reflective post. While sometimes I hesitate to write posts that are “too personal”— thinking things like “who really cares anyway?” and “why do I feel so compelled to share my life online?”—I’m so glad I’ve written regular updates about this first year of life with my baby girl. Even if no one else does really care to read about it–I care and I’m glad to have a “permanent record” of her infancy in this manner. The main thought that comes to mind when I reflect on her first year of life is, but it has all been SO REAL. I’ve expressed that same sentiment previously and maybe it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, but that it is the feeling I return to. This life, this past year has just been so real. By that I mean so vivid, so present, so conscious, so physical, so embodied, so here and now, that I can hardly believe it has now passed. I am likely to never have another crawling, drooly, grabbing, fuzzy headed baby of my own in my house again–and, even if I do. It won’t be this baby. This little walking, minimally talking, amazed, and amazing, energetic and enthusiastic, baby girl. I paid attention, I told about it, I remembered to look, listen, feel, and to embed precious moments and memories as deeply into my soul as I possibly could. I’ve struggled with life balance, come in and out of various states of equilibrium/disequilibrium. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, I’ve marveled, and I’ve been ragged. And, we’re here. We did it. We’ve taken our first trip around the sun together. After having walked the labyrinth of pregnancy after loss in 2010, in January of 2011 I greeted the labyrinth of birth with wild joy and sweet relief, and now we’ve been on our “return” journey–step by step and in my arms, Alaina and I have now completed our postpartum return labyrinth together (though, I think it might actually last three years…).
Just this time last year I was wondering aloud if the full moon would bring me my baby and sure enough, my labor began that night and she was born at 11:15 a.m. on January 19 (full birth story in case anyone missed it). For me, the first birthday is really as much about memories for the mom as it is about the baby! Some favorite early pictures:
Moments after birth. I tried editing the contrast to make the picture actually visible for this post. I'd just caught her myself. The tenderness and majesty of this moment makes me cry!
On my due date demonstrating how she could still fit!
First three generations picture. Look how excited I am!
Here is a video we took for family when she was a couple of days old. I love my voice in this video—in you can hear how marvelous I think she is—and how my fingers tenderly touch and explore her as I talk.
And now, fast forward a year and we’ve got some early steps:
And, then more real walking at Baba’s house:
And, of course I had to make some more polymer clay birth art goddesses to commemorate the big birthday! This mama has her baby on her hip, which is still Alaina’s most preferred mode of transport:
This baby is stepping out a little, but still intimately connected with mama. Double spiral symbolizes our interlocking labyrinth path, forever joined, but now able to separate too:
It is a total coincidence that I ended up making 12 figures--I didn't plan it that way and I didn't make one during every month or anything (though, that would have been cool. I wish I'd done that!)
Okay, time for twelve month update too! After many months of posting about the best baby ever, I am here to report that Miss A has taken a turn for the wild. If anyone has been secretly annoyed by my “perfect baby” and wishing to crow with delight, now is your chance! Oh my goodness. I don’t even know where to start. How about with this picture?!
Yes. That would be some of the wood from the back of the kitchen chair. Peeled off by a baby. And, the set of her mouth is because she’s also eating it. The slightly wild, manic-clown-type hair also sums it up. This girl is on the move. She’s into everything. Wants it all. Is constantly making one of two sounds to indicate her many wants–a cute little question-intonation “huh?” sound, or a grating, “aaaaaaaah!” sound that makes you want to yell, JUST STOP. She is incredibly grabby and shockingly destructive. Nurses very roughly (this isn’t new) and uses my skin as a handhold or toehold often enough that my upper arms are covered with little fingertip sized bruises. My thighs near my knees are also covered with small toe-sized bruises from being kick-walked on during lying down nursing. BUT, lying down nursing is pretty rare, since she pretty much will only nurse while standing up in the Ergo. And, that is how she goes down for nap every day (down to only one nap per day now). Nurses lying down during night. Potty strike is finally pretty over, but sitting down to pee just takes too much time. I still mean to write an EC post, a common refrain in which will be, and then I got peed on.
She loves to get into cabinets and also to take lids off of stuff.
Again with that hair and face of mischief-making!
What a sweet face too!
She weighs about 24 pounds and I need to measure her height. Has 8 teeth. Thought recent personality shift might have to do with more teeth or the developmental milestone of walking or the fact that she had a yucky cold, but it seems to be her new way of being. Markedly less verbal than she was last month—I know that is supposed to be a worrisome sign, but I think in this case it is related to the brain being able to concentrate on one significant developmental leap at a time. Right now, walking is primary and language has taken a backseat. I remember the boys doing this too. She often seems disgruntled lately–like whatever we are doing, she wants something different. Wants to get on top of table, counters, and stove. LOVES to be outside and asks all day long to go out (even when it is 10 degrees–then she complains and wants us to make it magically warmer). Has thrown several fits about this (and other things too). Is constantly aggravating the boys by getting into their games and wrecking their stuff.
She is very tough and brave and surprises me still with her unflappability in the face of change or drama. A couple of days ago I accidentally scraped her face with a tree branch when going out to open the chickens and didn’t notice what had happened. She made a small sound and had a turned down lip and I said, “oh, what’s wrong?” Upon getting inside I then noticed the two inch long bloody scratch down the side of her head and face!
Spends a lot of time in-arms still. Really enjoys mama and wishes to be mainly with me, though she does like visiting my parents and playing with daddy too. So far she still prefers to crawl to get things, but on two occasions this week, she has chosen to walk toward something rather than crawling. Crawling will soon be history! I swear, sometimes it feels like my heart is breaking when I think about the little baby of one year ago and how she is growing so fast, but at the same time of course I’m just so happy to see her developing and changing and being amazing. It has been a beautiful year.
Earlier this year I mentioned that I’d used BlogBlooker to convert my blog into a book so that I could copy the text into a year-end Wordle. Anyway, I decided I might as well make the finished blogbook available for download here as an ebook of sorts. It is pretty rough, since it includes comment text as well as “footnotes” of any websites I linked to. And, the formatting of pictures and other elements is a little funky, plus it includes any reviews or giveaways or quotes posts that I did during 2011. But, for anyone who wants it, here is a year of Talk Birth in pdf ebook format. I sent it to myself to read on my iPad and it was really pretty fun! It is a long document—410 page pdf. Enjoy!
I made sweeping promises about all of the fabulous posts I was going to write over my break and apparently I only had ONE in me. I find a good blog post really takes a minimum of three hours to write and that is after having the idea, taking notes, collecting links, etc. Someday I envision cleaning out my intense drafts folder, but that day has not yet come. So, for now, I want to share a picture of the delightful Goddess of Willendorf my talented mother crocheted for me for Christmas this year:
Isn’t she a beaut? Who is the real Yarn Goddess here? My mom! I am also enjoying some lovely new handknit socks in solid black at my request (so that I can wear them to teach in).
Speaking of teaching, the new session is about to begin! One of my classes got cancelled, which is really a great thing, because I only have one separation per week from Alaina now. I was really nervous about how all of us were going to manage two and I’m glad I don’t have to find out. I did get a second section of my online class, which I have been hoping for for about a year. So, I’m super excited about that! Let’s hope it scrapes up enough students at the last minute to actually run.
Also, went back via my BlogBooker (which I think I’m going to re-do shortly and make available for download for any die-hard “fans” out there), and want to share my post from this exact date last year. Seems so recent in many ways, but also like an eternity in others! I just said to Alaina today, “remember I used to be pregnant?!”
This is my first post constructed entirely on my new iPad–photo and all. 🙂
!
Talk Birth 