from one to two

the transition from one to two has been a blissful surprise.

i wondered how claire would react to baby, to mama being completely consumed with a baby on her all the time. wondered how she would deal with me breastfeeding, would she want it again too? i wondered if i would mourn that she wouldn’t be my only anymore- mourning that only time with her. i wondered if i would have a chance to give new baby my complete attention and get to soak them up in the way that i got to with her

claire was incredible for the birth. i had the options available for her to be taken care of elsewhere if need be, but i really wanted her there- and she really wanted to be there. she was laid back and relaxed, sitting on the couch watching movies on my phone.. sharing popscicles with me and coming back and forth to  the pool to see what was going on. excitedly exclaiming ‘baby! baby! it’s a baby!’ when jack was born. she was one of the witnesses to his first breath. and it really seemed to make the transition of pregnancy to baby so easy for her, like d’uh… she knew all along. this was the baby that she’d been kissing my belly for, and the one we had talked about for moons and moons…  she knows more than i give her credit for, in her young, wise little two year old body.

when he whimpers or cries, she’s right there, trying  to soothe him, talking to him…telling me, with her chubby sign language fist that he needs ‘ma’ milk.
she asks to hold him, and smothers him in kisses when she does.. she smothers him in kisses any chance she can get
she’s awfully proud of this little boy, her ‘baby jack’
ever so gently loving up on him, while bouncing around the place like a wild thing. she’s been so very good about knowing how to be easy with him, again.. because she is so wise, so true, so pure, so kind.
of course, with all transitions, there are little niggles to work out. and i have had to make sure that i pay attention to giving her cuddles and hugs and time. her relationship with her dad continues to blossom into them being the best of friends- which has allowed me the time to soak up jack as i had with her as a babe, and allows her to be fully cared for and played with. but she still needs time to check in with mama, on her own. body into mine. home

he just, so easily, so simply fits right in.
and i am desperately, hopelessly in love. staring at him any chance i get.
staring at my babies any chance i get. seeing them side by side. my beauties… her long, leaning body. her chubby hands and bruised shins.. her big feet and big features right next to his little curled up newborn self..

how could i have ever worried, when everything is just so.

By edarcy | Posted in claire, motherhood, no.2 | 1 comments         Show Comments | Add a Comment

the pink moon

did you see it? the sweet full moon the other night… did you feel it? –

as we lay in bed until 2am, bathing in the light as it washed over our room, illuminating our faces in the dark… all i could think was that it was an egg in the ovary of the universe- just released. suspended there in the vastness of the sky. the darkness of the womb. illuminated so fucking bright because it was alive. so much happening inside it. fertilized.

lunar eclipse, turned pink- the sun and moon, two lovers that dance.. chasing each other across the sky.. finally meet, a sweet kiss. a short moment. blushed pink, as it nestles in to the womb. implantation.  ready to transform

 i thought about all of the women aching for their wombs to light up. their soft bellies, their soft hearts. their eagerness and the intensity that comes with willing the unknown.  and i sent them love. gentleness. comfort. understanding.

and i thought about all the ripe bellies waiting for their babes to spill forward. their swollen, taught bellies… their own full moon. the salty ocean tides swaying their babe inside. and to them, i sent love. gentleness. comfort. understanding.

and i thought all the intentions being said into the dark of night, nourished inside this moon/egg. splitting it and multiplying it, nurturing it.

today is a new day dear one.
go forward, with your heart open
knowing..
you have everything inside you that you need
you are of this divine universe
created from a magic fusion of love

feed your bodies well
they are doing great things
trust the ‘baby’ you are growing – to show you the way to mother it best.
you can be scared, you can be joyful.
the birth of your creation can be intense, overwhelming, exhausting. it can be pleasurable, ecstatic, orgasmic.
allow it to be whatever it is, and give yourself the tools you need to honour this creation.manifestation.
do you need a really beautiful midwife? do you need an incredible doula? do you need to be alone? do you need someone to whisper in your ear that you are doing it? do you need to be talked to firmly, sternly, so that you pull the from power within? do you need someone to squeeze your hand with a silent ‘i love you’ – offering their strength to you? what do you need? ask yourself, in the throes of your labour ‘what do i need?’

it is hard work to be a vessel of big things.
but we women are creators. and we expand…
and it’s easier to allow these creations to pass through us, when we welcome them to. when we don’t fight them… when we hold our hands open instead of our fists clenched. creation comes through us.. and the babies that we need born.. are born..

 …
that night. she was the seed. she is suspended in the beautiful womb of the universe. infusing you with the energy of ACTION.

go for it. she is ready.only newly gestating or ready to be born… feed her. sing to her. welcome her. she’s coming.. no need to fight it.

you are the universe. and there has never been, and never will be another YOU.
you you you. with all of those beautiful gifts you have to offer the world.
..each breath, your own.
breathe out……. that breath will never be again.
breathe in
give thanks to it. as it swirls around your body
and really allow yourself to explore this all.
to explore the uniqueness that is you. and what you have to serve the world.
what creation(s) will be birthed through your vessel.

By edarcy | Posted in {daily} | 3 comments         Show Comments | Add a Comment

art prints*

just a quick note, as i sit here with my sleeping boy in my lap- and my girl dancing around the living room

my esty shop has been closed for a few months now, and i’m unsure when i will open it again- BUT i have just now started offering prints for sale. something i was unable to offer for quite a while.. beautiful giclée prints that will be printed on demand, packaged, and shipped directly to you. awesome! for me, and for you.

it means that i am able to offer really scrumptious prints that i wasn’t able to before.
that orders will be filled immediately, and will be packaged and shipped safely to ensure they arrive in one (hopefully unbent) piece.
and instead of the headache it is for me to figure out printing, deal with packaging and shipping- i can start focusing on painting more when i’m ready.

right now, there is free shipping worldwide until sunday, april 28th!
click here, or the image to bring you to my society6 shop to order

By edarcy | Posted in {daily} | no comments         No Comments | Add a Comment

home*

just over three weeks ago, i lay in this tub- my belly full of you…
hands cupped around the swell of my body, dreaming about the mystery within…

just three weeks ago, i reached down and felt the most beautiful velveteen silk of your head
between two worlds, just broken from womb waters
still a mystery to be revealed

arrived.. you have arrived. my boy
and we dance in harmony, tethered by an imaginary umbilical cord
you are still ever part of my body, fitting right into me
slept curled around my breast, cuddled in the crook of my neck, resting on the soft of my belly, cocooned in my lap, cradled in my arms.
your world is the landscape of my body.. the gentle curve and dip, the soft place to rest your head and call home.
you are never without the beat of a heart near you, the hum of a voice
tangled up in each other, a perfect love affair

…
these are the most delicate and beautiful moments
treasured
as one day, your legs will stretch longer than mine, and i’ll have to look up to meet your eyes
the velveteen of your head will be that of a young man child, with wild dreams as big as the sky
your world will be more than the landscape of my body
it will be the unlimited vastness of possibility
but i’ll still be your home. a soft place to rest your head, the hearth warmed for you to return to.
the beat of my heart your first lullaby…

for right now, my dear boy… i am soaking up all the ways that you belong to me
the ways that i am your world, and you mine.

By edarcy | Posted in motherhood, no.2 | 9 comments         Show Comments | Add a Comment

living lullaby

four breaths rise into the dark…
a night time symphony.
packed like sardines in a can,
i lie between two sleeping babes…
the soundtrack heavily fills the air,
his deep snore is the background tone.. her heavy breathing,
sweaty back stuck to mine.
me, silently waiting for sleep..
my breasts both sticky wet with sweet milk that’s leaked through only moments ago..
drenched sheets that hold stories, life.
his littlest breaths, gulp gulp gulp of milk,
satisfied and full bellied…
lulled back to sleep in this room of living lullaby.

i want to remember this..here.now. for the rest of my life.

By edarcy | Posted in {daily} | 3 comments         Show Comments | Add a Comment

birthing experience. experience birthing.

birth experiences are living, evolving..
we are born, and the story of our birth is carried with us, through our mothers, and theirs- whether we have heard the story of our arrival or not.. it is our beginning. it doesn’t define us, but it does leave an imprint with us..
our birthing stories continue to change as we tell them, going through many emotions as we relive them, healing parts of some

my two birthing experiences have been vastly different, from one body – entirely different stories

with my first
induced at 15 days ‘over’ – checked out, and painful. intense… pethidine, gas and air, epidural. numbers and a bed and flat on my back. purple coached pushing, and a healthy baby put on my stomach. she was beautiful, just exactly the baby i dreamt of- her round face and dark hair. the hospital experience was far far from what i wanted, and far from what i feel that is healthy for a new mama. left there on my own, alone, learning how to breastfeed- emotional and ready to be home.
mothering her was healing for me. the birth experience was all i *knew* – i knew there were other ways, stories of other feelings, it took a long while for me to work through things that i let happen, and things that happened to me. grateful, that i had a vaginal birth. grateful, that i had a healthy baby born without a cut on my perineum, no tool in my vagina, grateful to not have my uterus cut open. and not feeling guilty about wanting to have had more, to have wanted better.  to have expected better.  i was well read in birth, and yet i had so many interventions that would be viewed as a normal birth in today’s birthing society.
i did not experience that rush of love that mothers talk about when they meet their baby, we were both a bit exhausted from the birth- from the medications, from all of it. all interfering with the process.  they asked to keep her the first night when they tucked me in bed- and i was terrified all night that i wouldn’t recognize my baby when i woke, terrified that they wouldn’t bring her to me to breastfeed and would instead give her a bottle. terrified that they would mix my baby up with someone else’s. wanting her, so so bad- to be right there with me, but not knowing how i could say it- or even if i was allowed to.
weeks of consuming anxiety- waking with panic attacks. something that i thought was just new motherhood. and right now, i’m still not sure– is that something that all new mothers experience? was it unique to my experience at the time? was it something more? was it just from the events before?  i had no way of comparing- until now.

my second birthing
13 days over- welcoming, euphoric, joyful, orgasmic, intimate. never once was there a hand in my vagina to check dilation, never a suggestion of what to do, of how to move. never an instruction to push, or not to push. my body moved how it was to move, my voice sang how it was to sing, my body birthed a baby on it’s own- holy divine, my body was incredible.. and i truly felt that goddess experience.
i needed no tools to birth this way, nothing to self hypnotize, nothing to dull any pain, nothing to coach myself through. i needed an intimate space- my man by my side, safety, security.
high, and in love… and even though the immediate post partum was disrupted with a hospital transfer- with really painful stitches, i was held throughout with care and love by my midwife- and everything was still so…so very right. everything was still so very beautiful. everything was still so very incredible. nothing to dampen this birth. we climbed into bed and i slept with my wee little man at one side, and my girl on my other.
the only moments of weepy- day two or three post partum, when i didn’t take a nap when i should have- did laundry and cleaned and i believe i cooked as well. when i did too much, and my coochie hurt, my boobs were engorged, and my nipples sore. when it all felt like my body was aching so much all at once. i wasn’t listening to my body.

i asked my man how it was so different for me… how was my homebirth far from painful- when i know that not all homebirth experiences are that way. i’m really unsure how to explain it, how to put it into words…
i chose my birth partners with care- i followed my gut on who was to be there and the role that they would play. i knew exactly what i wanted, i envisioned it and wrote it down throughout my pregnancy. i wasn’t asking for much- simply respect, love, emotional support, intimacy.
i knew that birth didn’t have to be experienced as ‘pain’. and maybe that is all that is needed. i joked during my pregnancy that i would orgasm all over this baby’s head as they emerged, and while that didn’t happen- parts of my labour could easily be described that way.  i welcomed it all… all of it. welcoming it all with joy.

****

i just wanted to write this
for all the mamas that didn’t have the experience that they wanted the first time, or second time, or third.. or who aren’t sure that they are capable of a better experience.. or think that all birth is the same birth.. or that their body will repeat the same.. or that all birth systems are the same.. or that the care that you *choose* doesn’t make a difference.
to the mamas that would like a homebirth, but their man is holding them back- i urge you to not make a decision based on their fear.. never make a decision based on fear. education.. educate yourselves. go to homebirth group meetings, meet with a midwife and have your man meet with her. meet other women that have had homebirths. my man came around to birthing at home once he met our midwife, once he knew that i was supported and had connections with other women here. once he realised how much easier it would be to just stay at home… stay out of the sick hospital, be completely normal and healthy about pregnancy and birth.

he is my biggest advocate and support, and was the most beautiful birth partner i could ever imagine.
my glorious birth experience would not have happened without him

By edarcy | Posted in pregnancy, {daily} | 3 comments         Show Comments | Add a Comment

The Tale of Jack Henry

There are no words to describe his birth, not fully…
It was incredible. I would do it again, every.single.day.
It was divine, intimate, passionate, orgasmic. mmmm it simply…was.

It began many many moons ago… when I first put out to the universe that I’d like a ‘spring surprise’… I imagined conceiving in June, and giving birth as spring awoke- ewe’s lambing in the fields, daffodils blooming and light returning to the earth.

June arrived, and so too – an incredible surprise, a light in my womb.  I met the woman that would be my midwife, and though I didn’t know  I was only just pregnant at the moment- I knew from the second I laid eyes on her that she would be the woman to support me in bringing my babe earth side. She would be the woman I would call.. and by incredible luck, or.. perhaps just the way the divine was to be-I was one of the lucky few that got to hire her as she slows down on the number of births she takes these days.

The first quarter moon- my moon, my blood moon. The moon that my cycles returned at after Claire rode down on the last quarter moon in September 2010.  I looked at the calendar and noted down the moons- would it be the last quarter or first… I knew in my heart of hearts it would be one- and seeing the dates added up, the first quarter moon of March 2013 was really pushing the dates for a homebirth…

—
At 41 weeks we began trying to ripen my body.. to prepare for birth. I was becoming more and more anxious as the days passed, getting closer and closer to the deadline for a homebirth with my midwife. We did a few sweeps, lots of sex, clary sage oil on the belly and in the burner, evening primrose oil both ways, lots of walking, curb walking, double stair climbing, dancing, crawling, talking to baby..  Each morning that I woke without contractions felt like a disappointment… But I knew that my body was preparing, slowly slowly opening, ripening, slowly bringing my babe closer and closer.

March 18th –.. contractions that I was having the night before had all but stopped, and I woke up this morning to complete surrender. It was beautiful… there was no other time that surrender could have woken with me, no way to ask for it to come before it was ready- it simply was… surrender woke up with me, and I gave myself to it.

I woke and snuck out of bed, leaving my two loves sleeping.. another early morning before the sun rose.. I lit the candles on my birth altar, I smudged my body, my altar, and my birth pool with white sage and.. I was surrendered to whatever will be, will be. The fog over the frozen ground was lifting.  There was something deep within me that felt that I would birth soon after this, a knowing.

My body continued to show signs of it’s slow preparing.. Opening gently.

My parents arrived in Dublin, and were making their way to my side of the country by bus.. We walked down to greet them and came back home. Once they went to bed for a few hours, and Claire went for a nap- I suddenly was able to find a sweet spot to move my body and really feel my body expanding. Feeling my cervix open, this really incredible feeling that was a mixture of pleasure pain. It felt good to move my body into it- I stood with one foot propped up on the hearth of the fireplace, I’d hold onto my man, asking him to be solid. We laughed, and had really beautiful, intimate, light hearted moments of just us.. just being silly.. him making fun of the orgasmic noises I’d make as I’d move into the rhythm of my body expanding.   I knew that my body was preparing, but had no idea what to really expect of the night.  I sent my midwife a text to let her know that I was having cervical pressure, and that while grinding and moving into it, I felt a sudden *release*, as if babe had clicked right into the perfect position … and following that, I had some more bloody mucus and random waves of contractions.
As soon as everyone woke from their naps, everything stopped.. and I figured that that would be that for the evening, same as others.. I wanted to keep moving, but let midwife know that things had gone quiet now..  I knew that she would be gone at 7am to teach, and let her know that I would most likely wake at around 5-6am and let her know if anything had changed to prepare her for the day…

–

Steven and I snuck out on our own and went for a brisk walk around the neighbourhood.. and then down to the local shop and back home again. Everything really just seemed to have settled down, and so we decided to just go to bed.

At around 3:30am I woke from restless sleep, noticing that I was having some pains, moving around in bed to get more comfortable to see if that would help… falling back asleep and waking again.. falling back asleep and waking again. Hmmmm so I decided to start paying attention to the time- and started timing them after 4:15am – 11 minutes apart, lasting over a minute.. then within three contractions it moved to 8 minutes apart. I came downstairs and turned on the oil for the hot water, my parents were already awake- so I let them know that I was just turning it on just in case, and that I was having contractions. I crawled back into bed with steven, squeezing his fingers every time I had a contraction, until I decided that he should go ahead and get up to start filling the pool. I lay in bed with Claire- rocking my body when a contraction would sweep through. The house was awake- both of my parents up.. and my dad started to help boil water and get the pool filled.

I texted my best friend to let her know that contractions were every 8 minutes, lasting a minute.. and that we were staring to fill the pool.  That was at 5:20am I let her know that I’d call my midwife when they were five minutes apart, and that I was still totally with it mentally- and in bed with Claire.
We texted back and forth for a while ‘is this really happening today?’ I asked. ‘it is.’ She said. ‘or will things space out as we get up and atmosphere changes?’ I said… as I’d noticed that for a bit my contractions seemed to be a bit more spaced, or maybe I wasn’t paying as much attention to them..

At 5:27am I sent my midwife a text to give her a heads up, doubting that she was awake just  yet- and just wanted to text as I didn’t need her at the moment.

At 6:00am things spaced out a bit, Claire and I had gotten up and came downstairs- I was letting steven and my dad know what stuff I needed moved, and where to.  I lit the candles on my altar, and I cut up some fruit to eat.. bouncing on my birth ball- while every now and then  asking for steven to come, so I could hold his hand through a contraction.

Soon, I told my mom that I needed the tv to be turned off, and I turned a random music player on my phone to play ambient music. After a few minutes I started to feel the need to be alone- just me, steven, and Claire. I asked my mom to go ahead and go upstairs.. I had an overwhelming need to release- I started crying out of happiness- telling steven ‘we’re having our baby today!’  we kissed, I continued rocking on the birth ball- and he had his hands pressed one on my lower back, and one scooped at my lower stomach.  There was so much joy, so much love, this felt orgasmic.. I felt so high.

I remember starting to feel like I was going in and out of a la la land- and suddenly really wanted my midwife to be there- asking steven to call her. Claire had his phone, so I sent her a text asking if she would come- she asked if she could call me. Yes… she rang within a minute of the text – to me unable to even say hi, just breathing through a contraction. She said she was on her way, and I continued- my labour song began..

My voice bellowed out beautiful, loud, low oooooooohs.
My mouth loose, I felt like each oooooooh was pushing my cervix wider and wider- each rocking on the ball grinding with it, pushing deeper into the feeling of it
it all felt so good… my body felt divine. Moving on the ball, with stevens hand on my back and my stomach, the pleasure/pain mixture- all of it felt euphoric. When a contraction would end, I started crying the most joyful tears- so excited that we were meeting our baby.  This rush of love, of pure ecstasy.  Everything felt so good… feeling my cervix expand felt powerful and pleasurable.
the room felt so intimate.. steven meeting my every need so perfectly.. Claire laying on the couch watching cartoons on the phone- not a bother on her at all..  we burst out laughing, laughing so hard at how Claire didn’t care at all at the noises I was making, laughing harder at how we were laughing..  sharing kisses and pressing our foreheads together. Mmmm..

I ate a popscicle, which was so lovely for my lips and mouth.. and steven continued to offer me freezing cold water.  And brought me a cold wash cloth for my face and neck.

I asked where sally was, is she coming? Ask her if she’s coming..
steven sent a text to her- YES she said
and soon, I heard the car door outside
and another contraction swept through my body- I sang through it, in my perfect groove with steven while she quietly came in and started setting up her stuff
after the contraction ended, we greeted each other and hugged- and I noticed she was wearing the colours of my spirit babe- red, and purple. (while I unknowingly was wearing the red skirt I laboured in with Claire, and the blue tank top that was the same colour of her as a spirit babe)

The sun was rising and the window was starting to brighten, I had no idea yet that it was also snowing the biggest flakes of the year.. silently drifting down.

The second midwife arrived at some point, shortly after mine- and she quietly let herself in and was so perfectly and fluidly in the background.
I asked if I could get into the pool. It was a bit too hot- so they needed to cool it down, I was fine to wait.. rocking on the ball and singing my labour song. Once I got in and sunk down into it, I was disappointed at how luke warm it felt- I thought that maybe I just wanted it to be scorching hot and that this was the right temperature, but it still felt good to be in

Steven and I kissed… we made out. I wanted every bit of him, wanted more and more of him. Feeling so good kissing him through a contraction… Feeling my baby opening my body more- moaning into his mouth and kissing him deeper.  I think this is one of my favourite memories, sharing this intimacy with him- so completely tangled up together.

I started feeling some pressure and asked for help getting out of the pool and to the toilet. Having a contraction in the hall on my way there, and then two on the toilet that I really.. really REALLY hated. I wanted to get up- but started feeling like I was going to throw up, and waited for a bucket. And then said ‘I don’t want to be here..’ on the toilet- ugh. I got out of the bathroom and had a contraction in the hallway- and then climbed back into the pool. Ahhhh it was lovely- they were busy pouring more hot water into the pool and it was perfect.

My labour song continued- longer moans, holding onto my mans hand.. having him feed me ice cold water from a straw…

Claire toddled around, coming to the side of the pool to see how things were, asking questions- I was able to be in the middle of rhythm of a contraction and still be fully present with her when needed. I never checked out, which was lovely- one foot firmly in both worlds.

Soon, I could feel my body expanding, baby descending through my hips- opening wider and wider. My body ‘pushing’ without my effort..  still, it didn’t feel like a pushing- just a slow descending/opening/fullness .

I reached down to feel, and could feel the silky softness of baby’s head inside the bag of water, just a finger tip away from the world

I talked to baby, and felt so full of love

A few contractions later ‘ow ow ow.. it burns… it hurts it hurts it hurts’
I knew that baby wasn’t crowning yet, the burn felt a bit higher inside- and instead of it feeling like the baby’s head was coming, it felt more like the intense pressure of the bag of water bulging.

I remember one really beautiful contraction that hurt, looking into my midwife’s eyes while I tried to calm my breath.. her eyes held so much- they were strong and told me I was doing just fine, they held empathy and understanding.. her eyes never left mine as I held onto them until the contraction left..

My labour song began  to change, from a deep moan, to a broken guttural moan-  and changed again to higher pitched as the water broke

My midwife told me to sit more foreword, that babe’s head was about to touch the bottom of the pool. I leaned forward and felt between my legs- surprised to be met with the fullness of my baby’s silky head. Oh…oh oh baby

My body pushed again and I felt the twist of shoulders, down to the detail of arms and legs leaving.. feeling every bit of my babe as they slipped out, passed between my legs, and scooped by my hands up to my chest.

‘you’re so tiny!’ oh… so tiny, little blue baby
I started to instinctively blow on my babe’s face while the midwife grabbed a bit of oxygen to bring them around, a bit out of it, but nothing alarming, nothing I worried at all about. I noticed the squish between my hands ‘it’s a boy!’ I announced, without having to look.. oh. My baby my baby, you’re so tiny!  He quickly came around and let out a beautiful cry

Claire stood at the side of the pool watching me give birth to him, upset- only for the moment that my labour song changed to a higher pitched wail- and then she changed to amazement and excitedly exclaiming ‘baby! Baby! It’s a baby!’  pushing her dad out of the way to get a closer look.

I held onto him, and with help- climbed out of the pool and lay on the couch with him, while we all got a look and I delivered the placenta.  When the cord stopped pulsing, steven cut it.. and he was suddenly part of the world.

mmmm… my baby boy.

Born at 8:58am, weighing 7.5 lbs, born about an hour and a half after midwife arrived, and every bit perfect.

I ended up needing to transfer to the hospital to get a better look at how I tore, and be stitched up. My midwife came along with us and held my hand- while steven held our boy the entire time.. it was then, that we decided on his name.. Jack Henry Darcy. Mmm. What a strong name. Something that I can imagine him perfectly as a wee boy, my little pirate. A name that will carry him as a teen, a young man, a gentleman, an old man..

He is my dream…
We left the hospital and left that experience behind us- I wouldn’t even consider it part of the birth story.. it just was  a non-issue.. no bearing on the euphoric birth that we had just experienced. we came home and continued were we left off in our babymoon. The  house was already cleaned up and put back together.

—

The birth… I just can’t get over it. The labour and birth was more than I could have ever imagined.. it was so blissful, so happy, so intimate, so powerful, so so good… there was never a moment when I felt that I couldn’t do it, never a moment that I would describe as ‘painful’, never a moment when I would have felt I needed anything other than my man by my side. I felt like a goddess. My body moved and sang and birthed. I have been high ever since.

A SON.. my son. I can’t stop looking at him, in love with him.. oh. Oh oh.

By edarcy | Posted in no.2, pregnancy | 13 comments         Show Comments | Add a Comment

{jack henry}

a week ago today, a son was born…
he was born ever so beautifully at home, in the water…
euphoric labour, powerful labour song, and gentle sweet transition from womb waters to earth waters, right into his mamas arms..
jack henry. mmm mmmm.
the sun rose for you
and the snow fell for you
and i am head completely.. oh. so completely consumed in.love.with you dear boy..

i’m all high and in love over here, working on the birth story. wishing i could truly share it all with you… it was magical. exactly what i dreamt of.

By edarcy | Posted in motherhood, no.2, pregnancy | 10 comments         Show Comments | Add a Comment

what will be, will be *womb wisdom*

this is the first morning in a while- that i awoke without the feelings of disappointment
gentle aches, as my body has been slowly opening
this is the first morning, that i was able to say ‘what will be will be.’

i crept out of bed, freezing cold outside.. morning fog blanketing the island.
my parents slow descent from the sky
and then it came
perhaps, as much as i was unsure about having my mama here, in my home- for this birth.. perhaps this is just the medicine she needs after everything with my papa. after everything from the past few rough years on both of them. perhaps, greeting their newest little, from their youngest babe- is exactly what they need… to hear it’s first earthly breaths, to hold it’s fresh body, to look into the wisest of eyes.  yes… perhaps that is just what it is. what is exactly right.

i had been asking myself, ‘what do i need to do before this baby is born? what does baby need me to do?’
to paint. to draw. to play. to make love. to let go. to cry. to laugh… i did it all, and then some.
wondering ‘do i need to learn something else in this birth?’  ‘does baby need to be born in the hospital, do i need to learn something from this?’
this morning, i realised that so much has already been learned and unlearned, unfolding, in this pregnancy. hard lessons and wisdom, faith and compassion, death birth death in so many variations.

‘birth’ by Lisa DiNunzio

yesterday morning, i crawled into my husbands arms and i sobbed. so many unknowns. so much pressure. so many questions. these final days have been a roller coaster- highs and lows.  i curled into his arms and lay my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat… and put myself right back in the womb. i could hear the similar song that my babe hears. it softened my breathing, and soothed my heart. i envisioned myself so warm and safe, surrounded in the holy water and thin veil that would protect me as i slowly descended through my mother’s pelvis, being asked to compress myself… being unsure of what was happening and having no choice but to go with it… to trust it. to close my eyes and allow the journey to progress. wiggle my shoulders and kick my feet within one last time.  i didn’t yet get to the birth part, water still cushioned above my head. but i felt safe, wrapped up in this womb, surrounded in the strength and love of my mans arms. the taste of the water, my tears. a breath for me… a breath for my babe.

and so what will be, will be.

i am so looking forward to feeling my body expand, to feel the silky head of my babe as they emerge from my body.
to slowly let them rebirth from one world into another
to give myself completely away for them.
to see their beautiful, fat, angry little face- as i scoop them up and bring them to my chest…
to inhale the divine scent of *the divine*
to be wrapped up holy, in love, and high.
and welcome by babe earthside.

By edarcy | Posted in motherhood, no.2, pregnancy | 2 comments         Show Comments | Add a Comment

trust* surrender* release*

these final moments with babe nestled safely in my womb should be consumed with only bliss. with living in the moment and moving my divine curves in celebration.

if there were no fancy little wheel to spin- pin pointing a date here to match a date there in exactly 40 weeks time.
if there was no fancy calendar, neatly boxed in and just so calculated
no men to dictate that women bleed every 28 days, ovulate every 14, and gestate for 40 weeks
no government dictating where and how women can birth
i would simply be. i could count the waning and waxing moon with bliss and gratitude for each growing month, for each release. i wouldn’t feel obligated to birth at any particular date- but simply when my womb quaked.

and as my body does not bleed when it’s suggested it should, or ovulate with a pattern that matches a textbook.. it is simply mine, and perfectly right in it’s own way- and so, would i not also gestate my babes in my own way, in my own time?

the birth rights of women in ireland are being quickly stripped away, they are limiting women’s choices, trying to take them away entirely, scare mongering and pin holing women and midwives in awkward positions. it’s getting ugly, and it scares me. it means that i cannot have a homebirth when i cross the threshold of 42 weeks. my midwife is restricted by law – and an unassisted birth can be punishable by fines or more… it is not fair to ask a woman to consider an unassisted birth if that is not the birth she would like.. it is not fair to put her in that position, nor is it fair to have her spend the final days of her pregnancy wrought with anxiety over each ticking day leading to the time bomb of turning herself over from midwife- to hospital. fighting for her right to labour and birth where she feels the most safe, when her body and baby have decided it’s right for them etc.

with my pregnancy with claire, i was gloriously pregnant until 42 weeks and one day.. it all came to a sudden halt with an induction- fingers probed into my cervix, checking out of the birth process and being birthed- rather than birthing. and at 42 weeks, i was still feeling so happy and in love with being ripe- not an ounce of me was ready for it to be over with (i was just ready for the onslaught of ‘is baby here yet?!’ to end). but my body and soul were so far from ready- from my bishop’s score of zero, to my embracing the final days so beautifully- nothing about me grumbled that i was *done*.

this time, with time restraints looming over head – i began to feel *done* at 39 weeks. willing this baby to go ahead and make their entrance into the world.. and oh, how i don’t really feel that that’s fair- wishing my glorious pregnancy to end? feeling anxious and disappointed with every morning i wake without a contraction. tears and fears of the reality that could await. being unsure about what is to unfold, about how..

*trust*
this has been my guiding mantra this entire pregnancy
trust. would this pregnancy bloom, or be a fleeting moment in my womb?  trust, and feel totally right in whatever is to unfold.
trust. not wishing to have any scans, or need any extra involvement in growing this babe- trusting and knowing that my body grows a healthy babe.  (i have since had two scans – as tools requested, and i’m okay with, and letting go of that)
trust. that my body knows how to birth this baby into my own hands. that my body will go into labour on it’s own, expand, push.
trust. in knowing that my milk will flourish and nourish this babe.

through this entire pregnancy, trust has been there- without wavering… until it did.
when everything unfolded with my fears of the birth death birth cycle
when babe turned and my first taste of what could be the reality facing me in how i’m ‘allowed’ to birth
and now, when the calendar pages are quickly turning over.. the days passing by. leading me down to being without much choice

it’s so very easy to say to a woman ‘stay positive… don’t consider it. it’s not happening. talk to baby, believe in baby, trust baby. tell them that they are safe to come. let go of the anxiety so you can birth’
it’s easy to say, because i have said it… but to do it? well.. it’s nearly impossible..

there was surrender before i conceived my first- when i ended up letting go- out of exhaustion, gentleness, forgiveness, falling into the let it be, it will be. and then there was the light of her in my womb.
there is surrender. like yesterday, waking up after a night of crying and feeling the anxiety- of texting my midwife in desperation that i am scared..  there are fleeting moments of surrender, out of exhaustion, out of knowing and unknowing. out of gentleness and forgiveness and soaking up the moment.. waking up and instead of feeling the pit of disappointment that i did not wake from contractions- i looked into the bright eyes of my girl.. she giggled and crawled right over to me, cuddled under the blankets with me. ‘baby!’ she said, puckering up to kiss my belly. ‘boobshies!’ she exclaimed, lifting my shirt to cuddle my boobs and pretend nurse from them. rubbing her belly with an ‘mmm’ talking with me about how the baby would have ‘ma’. spending the morning painting with her, listening to music, swaying while holding my heavy belly.. surrender. trust.

but then it wavers again. and i want to scream a big FUCK YOU IRELAND
and i want to call the women and men that continue to put these pressures on women and scream and cry down the phone at them for how i am feeling because of their propaganda bullshit. i can only imagine how it feels to be a woman in this country that has had a previous caesarean- whose options as a laugh.

release. tears have been spilled… and i find my breath. and tears have been spilled.. and i find my breath.
tears have been spilled, and my sisters lift me back up again.
and i find trust. and i surrender. and i release.
and i wait..
i wait.
and it is the hardest wait, and not simply out of excitement to meet my new one, but also out of the fear of the countdown to an imaginary ridiculous gestation deadline.

and if i am honest with you, i am scared.
and i do not want to be. i do not want to spend the last moments of my pregnancy being scared of something that might not even happen…  that this babe could decide that under this new moon would be the perfect time to whoosh down from their womb waters… and all of this time given to anxiety has been a waste. (of course it’s a waste)
but i am scared, and upset, and pissed off at how birthing women and midwives are treated around the world. about babies being taken from their mothers bodies before they are ready. about power and control over women’s birth. about fear and money. about systems and ticking off boxes, fitting in a neat little grid.

sigh..

trust.
surrender
release.

By edarcy | Posted in no.2, pregnancy, {daily} | 4 comments         Show Comments | Add a Comment