The irony of a blog dedicated to living minimally with only two posts is almost too delicious to spoil, but I have news.
I have become a mama for the third (and last) time. We have a beautiful little girl to add to our brood, and I could not be more joyful. And exhausted. She and I had the most beautiful birth, but when I tell the story, it sounds too chatty to my ears. Here are the words I wrote in the middle of the quiet night, hours after she was born:
Thick from turbulent waves, the salty air washes over me.
It is readiness.
Where have you been? I've been waiting for you.
The little bird's tail flits a greeting. Soon, it tells me.
I sing to the rolling mound in the shower, close to my heart never to part
Then it begins.
An urge to gather my boys in my arms and be home.
A promise of popcorn I forget to keep.
The small boy crying as we leave.
We comment on the cold clarity of this night, just like his night.
Arriving at the hospital, a warm, safe beacon in a sea of ever tumbling waves.
In the bathroom, I regard the beautiful round woman in the mirror.
Last time, she whispers to me.
We smile at one another.
Strong hands and voice are reassuring as I dive through wave after wave.
I sing the song of the bee and feel a deep joy knowing that I am doing this.
Water showers my back.
The buzzing is deeper now. Longer. Guttural.
A lull in the waves.
Stepping out of the water, I recognise the doorway as our place.
Falling to my knees
In prayer, and hope, and love.
A push, then I am holding
Flailing arms and legs, fingers stretched out wide.
Left to discover a girl, it takes me slow moments to move the cord that binds us.
We laugh and cry and carefully run fingers over soft skin.
She settles at my breast and our breath slows, together again.
But now apart.
After, I shower gratitude on my body.
And now complete.
My goodness, so much gratitude I can't even say. Shortly after the last post in February, I began attending a Prenatal Yoga class, and it made me realise that not only have I been cluttering my space with unnecessary stuff, I have been cluttering my mind and spirit with unnecessary energy. I am so grateful for the way my teacher guided me to bring my focus to my body and baby. Such an enjoyable pregnancy, I didn't want to let go of it. But eventually, I heard the words Inhale- let, exhale- go, and knew that I could. Thank you Jodi. We had the serendipity to have a most beautiful midwife assist the birth. She encouraged me to be where I felt most comfortable, and supported me in a warm way. When I was pushing, it felt like this midwife became my mother, sister and friend, just by resting her hand on my back. Afterwards she told us stories of assisting mothers in Papua New Guinea deliver their babies in fields. Thank you. My darling, who has never wavered throughout any of our babies births, or any other time for that matter. Thank you.