I remember as each milestone passed, the first week, the first full moon, the first bleed, the first ovulation - each bringing you further away from the final moments of carrying a tiny baby within. Each month bringing new milestones to meet, of what would have been - 20 weeks, 40 weeks, 42. The waxes and wanes of moons and months.
There is an odd nothingness on the threshold of The Day He Would Have Been.
It's just another day, the sky is a rolling sea of sun, and a tease of rain clouds.
I wake with two children using my body as a horse, climbing and clamoring all over me, blowing raspberry farts on my belly, erupting in laughter.
I'm broody, not sad.
a third, how wild might that be to add to this brood of mortal kombat battles breaking out on the foot of the bed? where would everyone sleep? when would anyone sleep? no one sleeps through the night anyway, what's one more little body awake and sniffling and shuffling to touch mamas body?
''I want next to mama!'' ''no I want mama!''
''there's two sides of mama, you can both have some... maybe mama doesn't want either one of you touching me right now?!''
eh whatever, c'mere - pulled into the crook of my stinky armpits and morning breath kisses.
I butter warm toast and the smell reminds me of the hospital, of the midwife, Rachel, who would have been my second midwife here at home. Her sweetness and deep empathy, holding my hands and meeting my eyes with tenderness. She was awful sweet, goodness.. everyone was. everyone has been. so kind, so loving, so gentle, so easy.
Friend's that just show up, in packets of seeds and letters, in books and groceries, silk kimonos and home spun honey. They show up, and through all of this, I have realized all the more what beautiful people I have in my life, how lucky I am. How lucky am I
This wee fairy sprite, the boy born under the full moon, tiniest limbs and toes I ever did see
How lucky I am, to have witnessed the wide and vast generosity of hearts around the world. To have witnessed the precious ability of my body, the magnitude of life. How lucky I am, to walk the road taken by millions of women - those often silent or forgotten. How lucky I am, to breathe and beat and have another chance again. How lucky I am, to have the opportunity to dig deeper, to find ceremony, to commune with the mystery blood of my womb.
It's just another day, the sky is a rolling sea of sun, and a tease of rain clouds.
I wake with two children using my body as a horse, climbing and clamoring all over me, blowing raspberry farts on my belly, erupting in laughter.
I'm broody, not sad.
a third, how wild might that be to add to this brood of mortal kombat battles breaking out on the foot of the bed? where would everyone sleep? when would anyone sleep? no one sleeps through the night anyway, what's one more little body awake and sniffling and shuffling to touch mamas body?
''I want next to mama!'' ''no I want mama!''
''there's two sides of mama, you can both have some... maybe mama doesn't want either one of you touching me right now?!''
eh whatever, c'mere - pulled into the crook of my stinky armpits and morning breath kisses.
I butter warm toast and the smell reminds me of the hospital, of the midwife, Rachel, who would have been my second midwife here at home. Her sweetness and deep empathy, holding my hands and meeting my eyes with tenderness. She was awful sweet, goodness.. everyone was. everyone has been. so kind, so loving, so gentle, so easy.
Friend's that just show up, in packets of seeds and letters, in books and groceries, silk kimonos and home spun honey. They show up, and through all of this, I have realized all the more what beautiful people I have in my life, how lucky I am. How lucky am I
This wee fairy sprite, the boy born under the full moon, tiniest limbs and toes I ever did see
How lucky I am, to have witnessed the wide and vast generosity of hearts around the world. To have witnessed the precious ability of my body, the magnitude of life. How lucky I am, to walk the road taken by millions of women - those often silent or forgotten. How lucky I am, to breathe and beat and have another chance again. How lucky I am, to have the opportunity to dig deeper, to find ceremony, to commune with the mystery blood of my womb.