pear cider, sleeplessness, goofy dreams and headaches
i'm going to be an auntie soon. and i'm so excited!
my mind wanders back to my first pregnancy and i remember so clearly the anticipation...the buzzing, turning alien energy of new life inside me. i remember wondering what birth would be like, if i might die or have to be cut open. i remember wondering how my life would change. would i be a good mother? would seth be a good father? how would i know what to do?
i had naive confidence in my abilities. i trusted completely that my instinct would lead me. i felt holy and good and powerful and purposeful and healthy for the first time in my life. it was such a spiritual time for me...even though i don't think i recognized it then.
so, i'm sitting here thinking about laurie with her belly full of baby. and i wonder if she's feeling anything like i did then. and i'm thinking about john and wondering if he has any clue what's about to happen...not the birthing of the baby so much as the re-birthing of himself into fatherhood.
though my head is throbbing to the beat of an evil drummer inside my skull and i can barely see straight i'm so tired, my heart is so full right now thinking of them. the archetypal mother and father-to-be and the new beginning that is waiting to burst forth into their lives any minute now.
and yet, at the same time, i'm feeling it's a bittersweet time for me. i want so badly to have another baby. everyone thinks me foolish at best and greedy and worst for it, but it's something i ache for. even *i* (in my intellectual parts) think it's dumb...but nonetheless, i feel something waiting to come through me. and i fear that it's something i'll have to give birth to in a different way. something i'll have to say no to and deny and squelch away. i don't know if i can ignore it.
and it feels unfair. i know i've been blessed with three beautiful and healthy babies already. i know that there are plenty of children starving the world over for lack of care and resources. but this feeling i have lies not in the *knowing* part of me...it doesn't sit in the biologically driven part either. sometimes i dream i'm talking to this sexless being. sometimes i wonder if i'm crazy. or if it's a part of myself, my subconscious, that's talking to me.
i am young in age, but old in spirit. and i pray that some day, when the time is right, that i will be blessed with the ability to cradle one more child in my womb...that i will feel those first flutters down low and those last deep kicks in the ribs. the hiccups that come in a peculiar rhythm from the mysterious lump in my middle. the automatic swelling of my breasts with food fit for kings. the growing impossibly round and the bursting flat again. the first meeting of eyes that you know you've seen somewhere, somehow before. the anxious suckle of a newborn. the tiny fist wrapped around my pinky. the smell of buttermilk breath. the perfectly round toes i can't help but tickle. the sweet chubby bottom.
the freight train of all the mothers before me pushing through me as i moan and wail and scream and, finally, cry...triumphant.
being a woman is an intense blessing.
my mind wanders back to my first pregnancy and i remember so clearly the anticipation...the buzzing, turning alien energy of new life inside me. i remember wondering what birth would be like, if i might die or have to be cut open. i remember wondering how my life would change. would i be a good mother? would seth be a good father? how would i know what to do?
i had naive confidence in my abilities. i trusted completely that my instinct would lead me. i felt holy and good and powerful and purposeful and healthy for the first time in my life. it was such a spiritual time for me...even though i don't think i recognized it then.
so, i'm sitting here thinking about laurie with her belly full of baby. and i wonder if she's feeling anything like i did then. and i'm thinking about john and wondering if he has any clue what's about to happen...not the birthing of the baby so much as the re-birthing of himself into fatherhood.
though my head is throbbing to the beat of an evil drummer inside my skull and i can barely see straight i'm so tired, my heart is so full right now thinking of them. the archetypal mother and father-to-be and the new beginning that is waiting to burst forth into their lives any minute now.
and yet, at the same time, i'm feeling it's a bittersweet time for me. i want so badly to have another baby. everyone thinks me foolish at best and greedy and worst for it, but it's something i ache for. even *i* (in my intellectual parts) think it's dumb...but nonetheless, i feel something waiting to come through me. and i fear that it's something i'll have to give birth to in a different way. something i'll have to say no to and deny and squelch away. i don't know if i can ignore it.
and it feels unfair. i know i've been blessed with three beautiful and healthy babies already. i know that there are plenty of children starving the world over for lack of care and resources. but this feeling i have lies not in the *knowing* part of me...it doesn't sit in the biologically driven part either. sometimes i dream i'm talking to this sexless being. sometimes i wonder if i'm crazy. or if it's a part of myself, my subconscious, that's talking to me.
i am young in age, but old in spirit. and i pray that some day, when the time is right, that i will be blessed with the ability to cradle one more child in my womb...that i will feel those first flutters down low and those last deep kicks in the ribs. the hiccups that come in a peculiar rhythm from the mysterious lump in my middle. the automatic swelling of my breasts with food fit for kings. the growing impossibly round and the bursting flat again. the first meeting of eyes that you know you've seen somewhere, somehow before. the anxious suckle of a newborn. the tiny fist wrapped around my pinky. the smell of buttermilk breath. the perfectly round toes i can't help but tickle. the sweet chubby bottom.
the freight train of all the mothers before me pushing through me as i moan and wail and scream and, finally, cry...triumphant.
being a woman is an intense blessing.