Life Up Close

The Cheshire Cat

Beanie, Finn and I spent the day at the beach in Frankston admiring the wonderful sand sculptures. The theme this year was 'Creepy Crawlies', but I just so loved the Cheshire Cat's grin. I have added a few more piccies of the day because there really was just an abundance of things to grin at.

Bed Bugs

Lair of the Spider Goddess

A tribute to Tim Burton (obviously!)

Gorgeous Tree Spirit - reminds me of the ones from The Lord of the Rings

The Flea Circus 

We had a grand old time which included Beanie careering down the longest, highest slides she had ever been on (and which had, not seconds previously, frightened a 10 year old!) with the hugest grin on her face. 

That's my girl. Adventurous little boggwoppit that she is. Love it!

Back to blog the nourishment in the next day or two.

Byeee

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual inspired by Soulemamma. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. 

Nourish Me

It's daddy...

I Heart U

Gosh. Here I am again. I'm a glutton for late-night punishment that's for sure. Last night it was 2am before I could prise my hands from the keyboard. Damn that WiFi. Damn it to hell. (We wants it. The precioussss).

I've been thinking a lot about my 'word' for this year. 2010 was the year of 'Compassion' - for myself mainly as I have been known to be a tad hard on myself. Apparently. I'm not sure if I was more compassionate with myself to be honest. I tried harder though and I guess, in the end, that's what this whole yearly word thing is all about. Trying to find the right way 'in' to oneself in the moment. 

The word that has come to me for this year is 'Nourish'. 

Like compassion (and in some ways directly linked to it), nourishment is something I find hard to both give and experience. I rarely bother to think about self nourishing as my mind, body and days are stretched into the perpetual nourishment of others - particularly small, delectable others whose needs are many and often. I don't even have much nourishment left over to offer to my poor, long-suffering husband, who has been known to return home after a hard day's work, (and a long train journey) to find the stove cold and the table empty. He then has to whip up some dinner us both while I lie there in a stupor of tired bewilderedness. 

Nom Nom Nom
(image courtesy of MyVeganQuest.blogspot.com)

Actually, food is one of the main reasons why this word came up for me this year. I was going to say that I am not much of a cook. But that's actually not true. I'm a pretty good cook most of the time. My problem is that I don't enjoy it. More often than not, I find myself sagging in front of the doors of my pantry/fridge, sighing dramatically and wondering if it is not some form of subtle child abuse to offer ones progeny beans on toast for the second time in a week. Thank goodness the wee man is not yet truly experiencing my half-arsed approach to food. (Isn't 'arse' a good word?). Anyway, I digress. I am feeling the long-standing effects of nutritional laziness in many more kilos than I need, (many more kilos than a few of me needs actually), and a severely depressed immune system. (I know. It's not enough that my head is depressed, now my immune system is jumping on board. Bastard). And so. And so. And so.

I need to take the time this year to find out what truly nourishes me and then find the time to do it. This includes exercise (bleh!), proper cooking - with whole, organic, seasonal produce and such, (argh), for the whole family and, of course, trying, trying, trying to fit in some bloody meditation or yoga or writing. Oh. Sweet. Jesu. Well, what year would be complete without some massive, fear inducing, sweat producing, impossible list of changes? Certainly not mine.

Actually, it's really not quite as overwhelming as it sounds. The food thing - well,yeah. It will be a jump out of my comfort zone to meal plan (and I will have to) and to prepare things in advance because I'm such a 'seat of my pants' girl generally. But the rest of it - well that's just a case of organisation and not punishing myself (compassion) if I don't get it right first time, don't do it every day or don't meet my own (admittedly stupidly high) expectations. Again - this is about finding the things which nourish me, top up my well, feed my spirit, my heart and my mind. It's not about getting it right/perfect/done. The  journey into nourishing myself will hopefully leave me with some kind of road to follow in the future. I am not expecting miracles. I am not expecting it to happen overnight. We are talking about ahumhum years of unhealthy eating, not exercising and not wanting to change. So - I'll take it at a snail's pace and we shall see what the coming year shall bring.

In order to add a visual element to this idea of nourishment, I was going to do a '365 Days of' type thing but I think that's putting the cart before the horse. Too much pressure. SO - I am instead going to do one post a week on the whole subject of nourishment in all it's forms and this will include a photo of something that is nourishing me that week be it by mouth, eyes, heart, hands, body, soul, ears or whatever. I invite you all to join me.

Did you get that?

I INVITE YOU ALL TO JOIN ME!

Starting this week, I will write a weekly post and add a photograph about nourishment. All you have to do is the same and link it back to my post. I am even attempting to create a button you can grab and put on your blog to keep us all connected. Keep an eye out for it. (And an ear out for any sign of a technical breakdown - eyes bleeding, colourful expletives, steam coming out of my ears etc).

Life's a....

I do hope you'll join me - leave a comment and let me know if you do. Share your world. Often things which nourish one person can act as a nudge or inspiration for another. I'd love to read about the things, people, places, acts, which nourish you and who knows what might result from it. 

What's the Happy Haps?

HAPPY NEW YEAR ONE AND ALL!

I have been trying to find some time to do a big catch up of all the things I've been up to. It's taken me until NOW to find the space and the quiet. The kidlets are tucked up in bed and all I am in the mood for is a creative catch up. Yes, I have been knitting and sewing up a storm recently. Being the kind of all or nothing gal that I am, I decided to make my (very tall) hubble a quilt for Christmas. I haven't ever made a quilt before and my hubbles ended up being 6ft wide by 7ft long (to cover his toesies). I made it because he has been sleeping at work off and on for the last two years due to the workload. We live nearly two hours out of the city and when he is finishing at 3am it's hardly worth coming home to get up a couple of hours later to go back, so he sleeps on the floor under his coat. I know. So I am putting together a 'Work Survival Kit' so that at least he has something warm and comfy to overwork under. But this quilt (and a couple of other little bits) kept me up until 2am on Christmas Eve. I still didn't manage to finish it but here is a picture of the WIP.

Apologies for the crap picture.

It needs sewing through and binding at the ends. It's also a bit wonky but then, so am I. So there you go.

I've also been doing a little of this:

Tie onesies for a couple of friends who are pregnant. Made one for Finn too because they are so cute! I made them from this tutorial which is awesome. Try it. You'll like it.

And once the wee girl saw Finn's she wanted one. Because that's the kind of funky sister of chic I am raising. Of course, it will probably be trashed by Friday because she is a little rough on her clothes! 

I've also been knitting up a storm. I knitted up some 'sleeves' for a couple of good girlfriends (and hoped they wouldn't think it was a crap present!). Apparently they love them (though they could just be being kind). They are like long (to the elbow or upper arm) soft, silky things that look like very long fingerless gloves. You can wear them with t-shirts or tank tops etc. I think they're cool. I'll have to get photo's of the girls wearing them for my ravelry site which is here.

I have also been up to my neck 'Neck Warmers' -  the pattern is listed on my ravelry site for FREE. And it's SO easy but it looks surprisingly good. Honest. My husbands was the most muted of the one's I knitted but with all of them I used three to four balls of wool (together) and they turned out lovely for such a beginner. The buttons that you add really make a difference too. They step the project up and make it look like something you would buy. 

Nice hubby volunteered to have his photie taken wearing his neck warmer (and his pjs!)

I have finished Finn's Eastment Jacket but need to sew it up. I also have two vintage red pixie hats finished but in need of sewing up and two jumpers. I know. It's just that I don't like the sewing things up bit. I like the knitting bit. Anyway, when I get it together to finish it. I'll post and link to them, if you're interested.

What else? Hmmm... The beautiful wee boy is now 7 months old and soooo beautiful. 

7 Months and covered in solids.

The Beanie is wonderful and dreadful challenging in equal measure at the moment. She can be amazingly helpful and she LOVES her little brother but we have had an increase in the defiance and she is developing a somewhat aggressive streak in little ways. Not sure what's going on with her but I'm trying to keep my cool and find the patience to deal with it. I'm not even going to talk to you about the whole eating thing! Too traumatic. As you can see though, she's full of life and personality!

 Oh and these are some other little crafty projects I've finished recently.

 The lovely 'Bandit' - a sock monkey made for Finn while I was pregnant with him.

And this little fella is for a friends nearly 2 year old boy whose birthday is coming up. He keeps stealing 'Minty' the green and white sock monkey I made for his sister!

Well, I have another two blog posts up my (knitted) sleeves including one on my 'word for the year' (last year was 'Compassion') but this is just really a round up of the crafty goodness I've been enjoying.

Medicating Mamma

I suppose it's been coming for a long while. I resisted and resisted and resisted but finally the day came when I simply held up my hands and said "Ok. I'll try it. I've tried everything else and nothing is changing. Maybe this will help." And so here I am. One week into taking SSRI's to control that nasty PND Fairy who has made another appearance. In some ways I'm honestly glad. The decision has been made and while it was agonising making it, it is less so in its execution. I get up, I take a tablet, I feel better. That's it really. The hardest part was trying to figure out what was worse. Psychologically damaging my kids with the rampant anger that I can't seem to figure out OR potentially psychologically (or physically) damaging my boy by taking the anti-depressants (a small amount of which comes through the breastmilk).  There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about the long term effects of this decision on my rapidly developing wee boy. It worries me. Truly. I just don't think that the kind of mother I was rapidly becoming - one that lit up like a flare at the slightest irritation and shouted more than she talked - was going to do him any good - and I worry all the time about how much damage my emotional rollercoaster ride has cost Lily. So this was the only reasonable decision to make. When your naturopath tells you there is nothing else for it, then I suppose you have to sit up and listen. I was on the strongest natural remedies there were and it wasn't even touching the sides. Besides, I don't want to miss the day-to-day joys of life with my kids and I don't want to put any more stress on my marriage. I need to give my kids and my all too understanding husband a break from 'cranky mommy' and find my softer, funnier side again. She's been missing for far too long.

Can I tell you a secret though? I feel weak. I do. (And this is in no way a judgement on anyone who is, like me, seeking mediation to cope with life). But I look at the life my mother led (with four kids not just two) and I look at the life my sister leads with 6 kids (4 adopted, two natural - one of whom has ADHD, ADD, Aspergers and is a high functioning Autistic) and I wonder why, with all the love and support I have (that they did not) that I am not coping better. I know people say not to compare yourself to others but it's hard not to. These are the women of my family and I feel like I am letting them down. That I a letting myself down. I mean, I should be able to do this without medication, right? It's just raising two children. I am privileged enough to not have to work and can be with them every day. They are wonderful, beautiful, funny kids and I adore them. Yet. I struggle. Why? I don't know. I can blame my childhood sure but isn't it up to us how much we let the past affect our future? I'm sure there is some deep seated resentments about mothering and whatnot but again, I chose this life. I am blessed to have two healthy, gorgeous babies to love and cherish, so why is it often so hard. The reason I decided to take the medication was because I found myself thinking that Beanie would just be better off without me. I felt for the first time that I just wanted to run away. I have NEVER felt that way before. Never. Admittedly, that day was a bad one but I took Finn and I got in the car and I truly was not sure I was ever coming back. I drove around the hills in the dark for over two hours and when I got back my hubby and my girl were waiting for me. Beanie wouldn't go to sleep until I came home. And I felt ashamed of myself for wanting to leave her.


The guilt that comes with motherhood is immense for some of us. The fear that our mistakes will make permanent marks on our children's childhood and lead to terrible emotional and psychological problems later on, is truly terrifying. The shame that comes with each mistake. The pain of knowing that you have made yet another scar on a little life. These are the things I can't live with. I don't want this to be my mothering legacy. I want to do it better. I want to see their faces light up when we play. I want to see them reach out to me for help or a hug or just because I'm there. I want them to know that their mother loves them and I want to show them that love by being here, by being fully present in the moment with them. I want to at least start to find the joy again because four years is a long time for it to be gone.


So far so good (if you ignore the nausea and the slightly squirrely tummy). It seems to be helping a little bit every day. I find myself not so anxious, not so irritated. Believe me when I say that this is a big improvement. I got through a whole week last week and barely shouted at all. Again- big change. Lily's behaviour has improved. I'm not sure if that's in response to me relaxing or because she's finally coming out of the stubborn, rude, oppositional place she's been residing in for the last year and a bit. It's hard to know but it isn't hard to appreciate the changes. Maybe I should have done this sooner. No doubt there will be guilt around that if I think too hard about it. I tried so hard to do it any other way but here I am. At least there is the possibility of change here right now and I'm very grateful for that. Maybe the lesson here is learning when to ask for help and know which help to take. All I can do is wait and see.


In reality, life moves along so unbelievably quickly and I don't want to miss any more of it feeling bad. I mean look at them. Look at how much they have changed already. Blink and it's gone. 

Lily's fourth birthday party.

My gorgeous violet eyed Finn - 5 months (photo taken by Laura of Warmth and Light Photography). 

Me, tired but happy. As opposed to just tired.

So I guess this is where I am at right now. For better or worse this is the decision I have made. There is a lot of work ahead of me - inner as well as outer - but I ask only for a pause in my head between the spark and the flame - just long enough to blow it out before it consumes me.


That's not too much to ask, is it?

The Place Where Health Resides

Is about a million bloody miles away from our house.


How I'm Feeling Right Now

ARGH! Can I just have a gigantic whinge please? OK. As of today, we have ALL been ill consistently and without a break for 14 sodding weeks. 14. I am not exaggerating. I am currently hacking and wheezing my way through my THIRD chest infection (complete with flu like symptoms) and am enjoying the many and varied psychedelic effects of my third round of antibiotics. Lily is over her ear infection (and her recent fever) but is still partially deaf and snotty. Finn has just finished his second round of antibiotics (for his chest infection) and, as yet, has not caught this latest bug. Michael went away to Brisbane for work on Monday and by Monday afternoon I was in the grip of this latest delight. So over it. So not fun caring for two children, one of whom refuses to sleep for more than 20 minute stretches during the day, when all you want to do is take enough panadol to floor a rhino, and sleep. Hah! Fat chance of any of that!

Oh I do love my boy. His smiles light up my life and when he chuckles, ye Gods, it doth melt my foolish heart. Still, the little beggar makes me cross and shouty when he cries (and cries and cries and cries and cries) and nothing I do makes it better. Not picking him up, not putting him down, (heaven forbid I do that), not lying down, not sitting up in his chair, not his dummy and, drum roll please, often not even the beloved boobie. He is, at the moment and probably due to everyone's prolonged illnesses and mummies antibiotics, a grumpy little fecker! 


In truth, it's sheer slog at the moment and not much of the joy of the newborn or anything else for that matter. Beanie is still in her oppositional and defiant stage and increasingly I am resorting to threats and time outs, neither of which are much fun for either of us, to get her to do ANYTHING. Still, I can see that our power struggles are only going to get worse unless I change my approach. I just don't have the energy to do it right now. Not with a sick baby and a sick mummy and absolutely no energy for anything. 


If anyone has any natural remedies for viral and bacterial infections that might help us plump up our immunity and get past this, then please share. I am open to anything that might help and stop us passing it back and forth between us.


Yesterday was the worst. I started to feel increasingly ill in the afternoon and I think the antibiotics are having a very strange effect on me. I felt faint and all jittery inside, so I rang my mother-in-law and she came and cooked us a roast and took Lily off my hands, so that I could just cope with Finn. I am blessed indeed to have such a fantastic supportive family of in-laws and I was grateful for the break. However, leading up to Nanna taking Beanie to hers for the night, Beanie and i just had fight after fight after fight. When she finally left, she was subdued and I was beside myself with grief and guilt. All the hugs in the world don't feel enough after one of our spats. And I hate myself for being so easy to anger, so irritable and so impatient with my beautiful girl. When they left I broke down in tears and felt worse than I have in quite a long time. I felt PND low and seriously anxious. I phoned my mother-in-law and asked her to call me when they got home, so that I would know Beanie was safe. Always when I hit this low, I am convinced that the Gods will punish me for my many mothering sins by taking her away from me and I am anxiety ridden until she is returned to me. It's made worse by the fact that I am occasionally intuitive/precognitive in my feelings about things and events, so I never know if I'm feeling so crazy because I am, in fact, crazy or because something bad is going to happen. 


I know. It's not healthy. It's not even particularly sane. But it is possible and it is because of that possibility that the fear is able to get in. The thought of losing her is... well, in all honesty, there aren't words adequate enough to describe how it makes me feel. So I did the only thing that makes me feel better at times like these. I called my hubble. He has this way of calming me down, of making me feel less like a basket-case and of making my head less frenetic and punishing. I don't envy him his task. I am not the easiest of people at the best of times, (and I do wish I was more sunny of personality but intense and feeling and anxious is the best I got, sorry), and this is certainly not the best of times. Anyway, he talked to me until it got a little quieter in there and then I slept as much as my wee boy would let me and felt slightly better this morning.

Beanie - what seems like a lifetime ago.

I live in fear of the PND returning in all it's repugnant fulsomeness. I was only just freeing myself from it's frozen grasp when I got pregnant with Finn. Now, I am watching myself and yes, there are signs. There is the anger and frustration that I am all too familiar with. Those bitter, twisted emotions that take all the colour from my life and mar the bond I have with my children. I am awash with that. Yet, I still find joy in the moments in-between and I take comfort from that. I see the soft-hearted, empathetic nature of my girl  and delight (and suffer) in it, even as I see how easily it will be for those she loves to break that bright heart of hers. I see how brightly she shines with intellect and wisdom far, far beyond her years. I am awed by her spirit, her humour and her ability to  make me laugh with her funny comments and actions. 


And my little man? Well, it's all about the gummy grins and the little chubby thighs. And, of course, those rare chuckles that are making more of an appearance as days go by. I watch as he grows bigger and stronger by the day, despite all the sickness that has plagued his young life so far, and I delight in his daily accomplishments. Bringing his hands to his mouth, trying to swallow his entire fist, filling his nappy with great gusto and reaching out and grasping things with more ability every day. He almost rolled over today and I clapped with joy. It never gets old. It simply reminds me of how Lily did these things too, how precious they are and how quickly these times are over. I don't want to miss a thing. I don't want to look back, as I often do at footage of Beanie as a youngster, and only be able to remember the anger, the grief and the guilt and all the mistakes I made. I don't want to miss the opportunity to revel in these moments. I don't want to be that mother again. I want and need for something to change.  And it has to be me. And I am trying. I have been trying. So hard and for so long. And yet here I am again. I am trying to remind myself that my 'word' for this year is 'Compassion', and show some to myself.

Cuter than any real puppy

How I long to come and write something that is jolly and bright and humourous and full of hope. I can do it. I have done it, but it all seems rather far away right now. I am sure much of it is illness but then there is a lesson in that too it would seem. Asthma after 15 years is certainly something to think about. As are three chest infections in three months. Guess where the seat of grief is in the body? Yup - lungs. 


Anyway, the hubby is back late tomorrow night, so I'll hopefully be able to spend Saturday and Sunday recuperating and being gathered up into his long, warm arms for a much needed hug. This is the longest apart we have been since we met. And as someone who has spent only one week as a single mum to two kids, can I just say that I have nothing but utter respect for single parent families. I can't imagine how hard it was for my mum to raise the four of us alone as she did or for my sister to do it with six, one of whom is autistic. And on nothing. I send out a big hug to all those women (and men) who are doing this alone for whatever reason. It takes a lot of heart and a lot of courage to raise children but it's so much harder when you have no-one with whom to share the joys and the sorrows, or to just get a cuddle from at the end of the very long day. So take one, over cyber-space, from me. Cos I get it.

Me. Sick and Tired. 

I need to go now. I need to sleep if I can. I only came to empty my head and my heart for a while. To make sense of the fragments all swirling madly about and to connect, if only anonymously, with those of similar heart. 


May all the things that lay us low tonight, be gone by morning.

Emergence

Hellooo - I'm back! It's been a while and I've been dying to come and share with you all the stuff that's been going on but I've been so busy. Being a (grumpy, sleep deprived) mum to two gorgeous bubba's is a full time job.

Firstly though, just look at my beautiful boy!

Is he not the most beautiful thing you have ever seen (own children excepted of course)... I'm so in love.

This photo was taken by my good photographer friend Laura, whose website I shall link to when it is up and running. She specialises in family portraits and pregnancy/baby photography and, as you can clearly see, she rocks. I'm lucky enough to be loved enough to get all this expertise for nothing and our Finn Photo Shoot went spectacularly well. I may not be able to resist putting up some more photies in a minute. They are ALL so splendid. We are planning on asking her to do a family shoot with all of us because it's hard to do that kind of shot for yourself.

Oh, who am I kidding, I can't wait -here's another one.

This is what he looks like most of the time, poor colicky wee thing but still, even bawling he's so cute. Mind you, we did subject him to some serious wardrobe changes (hats mainly), he's probably all hatted out here.

We have all unfortunately been sick for the past 11 weeks, with a cold that just won't go away. It developed into a nasty chest infection two weeks ago and I have had asthma for the first time in 15 years. Even more unfortunately, despite my very best efforts, poor Finn came down with it on Saturday and now has a horrible chesty cough which causes horrible gagging and sometimes projectile vomiting of his feed and conjunctivitus. We are a family plagued with ill health at the moment and I am still barking like a seal despite being on my second round of antibiotics. I'm hoping that as the weather warms up with Spring, it will take the lurgy with it and we will all be happier and breathing more easily soon.

Life with two is interesting. Tiring, frustrating, funny, time consuming and all that jazz but it's also wonderful, heart-warming and so special. I am truly grateful that these precious little souls chose me to wear out, wake up and demand from. It's hard some days and my fuse has sadly not gotten any longer, but I wouldn't have it any other way. They light up my life, they truly do.

I have also been really busy crafting. My mum taught me how to knit while she was over and I've been obsessed since then. I have just finished knitting Finn a pair of dark oak green trousers (which will no doubt finally fit him in the full burning heat of summer!) and I'm in the process of knitting him a red pixie hat. It's great. I can sit in bed and knit and talk or watch a movie or whatnot and it's so relaxing. I just love working with my hands. I've just bought a load of new wools to make another jumper for him (I knitted a trial one up out of some nasty nylon wool that I got from a charity shop and it turned out pretty good) - such wonderful colours and I'm hoping to knit him up some vintage booties with a button and a strap.

I've also been learning to sew. I have made Beanie a beautiful pinnafore dress and head scarf out of some gorgeous birdie fabric. I have some yellow polka dot fabric to make another one. I will have to take some photo's when I have the chance but our camera had pretty much died and my camera phone doesn't do them justice.

I also crafted madly right before Finn's birth (strange nesting impulse maybe?) and I made Lily a magnetic fishing game, complete with felt fishies and twig poles. I mean, I even sewed her a pond with seaweed and lily pads on it. Again, photo's later. I also made all of Finn's bunny rugs and muslin wraps and I made him a black and white striped sock monkey called Chester. He looks like a bandit, so I'm thinking of making him a little sack with $$$$ all over it. Lily keeps calling him 'Chesty' and then wondering why mummy is laughing like a drain...

Now - how exciting. I've been given an award. In fact, it's.....

A Blog With Substance Award

Who knew? I have substance. I am, of course, delighted with this award, especially as I mostly feel I write about absolutely buggar all and then only to amuse myself. So in the spirit of sharing the love...here are the rules for the award:


1.Thank the blogger that gave you the award. Thank you to the lovely wiccan permaculture guru Moonroot who has very kindly chosen my blog for this award. Ta very much lady! May your chickens be ever plump producers of large happy eggs.


2.Sum up your blogging philosophy, motivation, experience, using 5 words.
Oh dear Lord. Me, limited to five words? Be Honest, Laugh At Yourself 

3.Pass the award on to 5 fabulous bloggers with substance. I'm happy to bestow this award (in no particular order) on the following fabulous blogs which always have something worth saying, and say it well:

Well now this bit is hard. Two of the blogs I love have been privatised, so I can't nominate them. One of the blogs I would nominate has just (sadly) quit the blogosphere, so I am a bit limited.

Bluebirdbaby continues to be inspirational to me and Erin always has something to say and a beautiful way of saying it. Her blog that puts a spring in your step and a light in your heart. Check her out.

Holistic Mamma is awesome. Always insightful and very often her posts are written just for me. (Well, that's what it feels like). Check her out for some intelligent, thoughtful and sweet posts.

Mamma Moontime is all lovely Steiner/Waldorf inspired and there are lots of creative, wonderful ideas for play with your wee ones.

The Magic Onions is a place where people like me can find inspiration for raising children and for inspiring children and for playing with children. Me likey.

Rhythm Of The Home is a warm and friendly place full of all manner of goodly things.

And that's it for now. Enjoy the links.

I'll be back as soon as I can.

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar...

My Beloved.

It is fascinating to me the real beauty that can be experienced in moments of pure surrender. Never has that been made more abundantly clear to me than on Thursday 27th May 2010 when my beautiful chubby cheeked boy finally made his appearance.

I sat on my birthing ball in my study, perfectly at peace with the 'what is' of my situation. I was uncomfortable and 6 days past my due date, I had half heartedly tried some of the suggested ways to augment labour and had really reached a place where I knew with certainty that I didn't want to do anything else to try to hurry this pregnancy up.Though I was barely sleeping, often in pain and still, at times, worried about coping with two children rather than the one, rather demanding, kidlet that I already had, I knew that when the baby and my body were ready, then I would know. I called my doula to let her know that nothing was happening but that I was ok, truly ok, with how everything was and that I was now just in a place of total acceptance. She smiled as she heard the change in my voice but reminded me that she was actually flying out to Adelaide the next morning and therefore wouldn't be around for the next 3 days. I actually laughed out loud. I was simply sure, in that moment, that whomever was at the birth was meant to be at the birth and if that wasn't my excellent friend, then that was as it should be. I knew, I don't know how given my previous birthing experience, but I knew that I would be ok, come what may. I promised to give my back up doula a ring just in case and she was laid up in bed with Tonsillitis, her uncle had just died and she was due at a funeral on the Friday AND the two women for whom she was primary doula still hadn't gone into labour! I laughed again. I told her what I had told Bhava, all would be well. I had simply reached a place where I didn't care when it happened or how it happened, I knew that it simply would happen and all in it's own good time and in it's own perfect way. And so it did.

I felt good. Truly. My little Beanie was with her nanna for the day, so I took mum for lunch. We yomped through a delicious lunch of chips and vinegar and gravy (well i did) and I enjoyed a lovely mug of chai. Part of the way through my chippies, I suddenly realised that the sensation of my baby doing what felt like downward dog in the middle of my belly was, in fact, coming at regular intervals. I asked mum what the time was - it was 12.30pm. Mum asked me if I was timing contractions, I said I wasn't sure but that I would see how regularly these sensations came. I was calm and smiley and continued to eat my lunch. They were coming every five or so minutes. That's when I knew that my baby was on it's way.

We left, popped briefly into a shop on the way home and then hopped into the car and drove back home. Mum was concerned about me driving the car but really, it was completely fine. I wasn't panicked, I wasn't in pain, I was just in labour. I rang the hubble and said that I thought something was happening but, as I wasn't sure if it was labour or just pre-labour, I would call him back in an hour. 45 minutes later I told him to come home. I then went upstairs, finished packing my hospital bag, dusted my shelves, put together the changing area and got it all baby friendly and then went downstairs to watch Anchorman. Michael came home to me occasionally standing and circling my hips during a contraction but mostly chortling away to anchorman whilst sitting on my ball. I called my doula, who was ecstatic that she would actually get to be at the birth. At around 4pm we decided that, though it might be early, we should get to the birthing centre just to ensure we had a room and a chance to birth in water. 1 hour later my doula arrived to me deep in labour and 3 more hours later I pushed my not so wee boy out into the world. I was, in fact, only one push away from birthing him in the birthing pool but his heart rate dropped and I only made it one step away from the bath before his head was out and the deed was done.


I did it. I DID IT! I was/am so ecstatically happy that I managed to birth my Finlay Gabriel MacDonald Skarbek (or Finn as he is known) naturally and on Buddha's birthday no less! I so proud that I did it without drugs - it was my deepest wish to have a natural birth. I didn't get to birth in water but I did labour in water and in the end, he was born in his amniotic sac, so he got to have a water birth even if i didn't! Apparently, being born in the sac is the gentlest way for a child to be born but it's also quite rare. Michael caught him but had a hell of a job hanging onto him because he was so slippery! And we found out that the reason his heart rate dropped was because the cord was wrapped around his neck once, but he was plump and chubby cheeked and, amazingly, silent. He was passed through my legs and up to me to hold and I yelled out in surprise, "It's a boy!" Finally he let out a yell and he hasn't been silent since! And when I found out I had birthed an 8lb 10oz  baby boy naturally, I was even more proud of myself. You cannot imagine the joy of doing something that you simply didn't know you were capable of doing but sincerely hoped that you were. I knew this was likely to be my last pregnancy and I so wanted to do it my way. and I did. I breathed and surrendered and breathed and surrendered and roared and surrendered as my body did amazing things. As I opened and moved with the waves that undulated through me. As my mouth said 'No!' but my mind said, 'Yes. This is what we want. Yes.' As my husband and my doula let me squeeze the life out of their hands and whispered words of comfort and strength to me. As I remembered the women who encircled me and held me in this precious space of birthing. As I chose, each moment, to let go and let it take me in a way that I have never been able to before. That is the magic of birthing. It is the work of birthing. It is a path of life that could be taken every day, if we could but remember to breathe and let go. It was truly magical.

I won't lie and say it didn't hurt in places. It did. But you know what I kept saying to myself? "It's not pain yet Kitty, it may get to pain later, but it's not pain yet." And it got me through the hard parts. I birthed my beautiful boy in just 8 hours compared to the 40 hours and massive interventions I had with Beanie. I felt I took my place among the tribe of birthing women and felt I finally I belonged there. Now I know there are many ways to birth, many choices and many women who birth. I simply know that for me, this is where I wanted to be, this was the choice I made and this was the path that I followed. And sweet Jesu did it ever make me happy. And so, here he is getting a cuddle from his awesome big sister. My beautiful indigo eyed sleepy-boy Finn, who looks just like his handsome daddy.

*In the background you can just see the black and white striped sock monkey I made for him in the days before his birth when i went sewing mad! The monkey looks like a bandit, which I kinda love and we named him Chester, though Beanie calls him Chesty by mistake which makes my mother laugh like a drain.

PS. I put together this totally awesome play list for the birth and at some point during my labour journey I heard Wendy Rule singing 'Breathe....breathe'. It was pretty amazing. Check the track on her 4 Elements album (can't find a link, sorry). Oh and also enjoy a little Ashana who brought much peace and

Buddha love to the room.

A Samhain Shower

The Altar

It was a beautiful day. My mother shower fell on the festival of Samhain (Beltaine in the North) and we began with all the triumphant beauty of a sunny Autumn day.

All of the women gathered in the red tent that had been set up in our lounge room. The red tent that has been the backdrop for some many rites of passage, so many brides, so many mamma's-to-be and so many celebrations of lifes gifts. The red tent that my hubby and I had created with our own two hands, that has been embellished and seasoned by the hard work and love of Lausy and Tracey during the many years that we have worked together, and that has meant so much to so many.

Flower Crown

I was welcomed into the ruby womb space through an archway of raised arms, my little Beansters included, while two of my women drummed for me. It was funny and sweet and symbolic of returning to a safe, pre-birth space where I was held and loved in total and absolute joy. I was welcomed and smudged and crowned with flowers as I contemplated the imminent arrival of a second precious little flower into our family. I was given the opportunity to share my fears and to offer my gratitude for all that I have and to let it all go into the perfection of the moment, knowing that there is only one way out of this journey now and that is through it. Trying to find that trust inside of me that knows how to live this birthing journey and trusting the baby inside of me to tell me when and how to move with the tide when it eventually rises.

Becoming a Big Sister

Lily was honoured with her very own flower crown (and totally outshone her mother in it's wearing) and was gifted with her very own Big Sister ceremony. A simple outpouring of love from my big hearted sisters with a blessing on her changing status. Nothing fancy or difficult for a little one to understand, simply an acknowledgment that as my life changes, so does hers.

And then the time of the pappa arrived. He read out a letter to his beautiful wife (that's me) and to his new, as yet unknown, baby. It was beautiful, moving and eloquent as only my man can be and reminded me yet again of how very, very lucky I am to have such a man at my side and in my arms (when he fits!).

My Man, My Child, My Belly and Me

There was not a dry eye in the house for most of the proceedings and I surprised myself by how much I could cry in company. I wouldn't say it was exactly a comfortable experience to be so vulnerable, even with the women who love me and whom I love so much, but it was a cleansing. I think, in some small way my inability to control myself, as I spend so much of my life trying to do, broke down barriers that have needed breaching for a long time. Indeed, when asked about what fears these beautiful women had for me in life and in labour, 'not reaching out for help' was definitely at the top of the list. They reminded me that they know when I'm struggling, even as I try to hide it or retreat in the face of it. They reminded me that I am held even when I think that I am alone. They reminded me that my community of women is so much more than the individuals within it, it is a place to be healed and to be seen, even when you are at your worst and cannot even face yourself. A deep and wonderful blessing indeed.

Beautiful, beautiful Beanie

It was an unforgettable day. Chanting, playing, creating, honouring, sharing and feasting together. Samhain could not have been celebrated more joyfully or more poignantly. And the ripe round bellies of two others of my circle, added to the beauty of the day. I know that I will be just as blessed to attend their Mother Showers when their time comes, as I have been to sit inside my own sacred circle of women and be blessed by their warmth.

 

The Circle is Sacred

And to cap it all off, my mum had flown all the way from the UK at the tender age of 79 to share the day with me and to be a part of this monumental journey into the unknown. She's hoping it's a boy.

Three Generations

And so, as the full moon wanes, as the heavy rains flood the gardens, as autumn takes of hold of my senses and my rhythms I find myself, if not at peace, then at a place of acceptance. Trusting that when my time comes I will be ready, I will find strength, I will be enough. I am able to ride the occasional tide of panic, I am able to sit with all that is and not try so hard to change it. I am able to be here, in this place of suspended animation, waiting for the door to be flung open and for my descent into the unknown to begin. I am able, despite my flaws and my often graceless handling of life's difficulties, to acknowledge how very blessed I am, to see the beauty and the wonder of my life in it's unfolding because this IS my life happening. I am a part of it unfolding whether I am willing or unwilling to participate fully. The 'what is' IS and I am here, witnessing, uncomfortable, afraid, stoical, unready, willing and waiting for it all to unfold into it's inevitable perfection. And I am grateful.

After all, look at what I already have.

Mine

All Mine