A year of Him

erin darcy photography
His birth video this day, a year ago :: Here

Dear jack
my gentle water sprite boy
my wild ragamuffin man

Your year has probably been the fastest one of my life
how impossible it is that a year has passed, and yet a life time ago – I pulled this mysterious tiny one from the waters and to my arms..

You chose to be born 14 days past 40 weeks
under the first quarter moon I knew you to be due.
as the snowdrops blossomed and the daffodils bloomed
the ewes lambing in the fields
and the first snow drifted from the sky

I woke, that night, with knowing  waves rocking through my body
almost afraid to celebrate that your journey was beginning… on the cusp of being cut off from having a midwife supported homebirth.
but oh, our journey was beginning
as it had been for days leading up
the slow, gentle dance of your descent
spiralling down and letting my body expand with you

I wrote your birth story just weeks after your birth
 has there ever been a birth as sweet?
I relive the ecstasy that swelled through my body
the laughter from my lips and the tears from my eyes
the kisses of passion, the joy. Dear boy. The joy you bring..

We moved in tune with each other
and I welcomed you, every bit.
I sang a bellowing ancient song for you
the song that you wrote…
the one with no words, and all the words
ancient tongue that only birthing women speak
the same song the world over, for a millennia

we danced, with you in the lead
and I followed
I followed you with hunger, with passion
I followed you with fierce love

I sunk my body into the warm waters you were to be born
a Pisces babe..

And your song changed,
the whole world opened up and ushered you forth
the most overwhelmingly full feeling
the silk crown of your head christened by my hand
the sacred moment between two worlds
you could be anything you wanted to be
and you chose to be born to me..

‘a baby! It’s a baby!’
you became.. right before her, your sister watching on
you were a mystery, a novel, a someone sometime, a movement and nudge, a lullaby heart beat, stretched skin, heavy belly. You were a new landscape for her to cuddle around, a place for her to kiss.. her hands finding you in her sleep.
and you became.
‘a baby, it’s a baby!’

our baby.. our baby. Ours.


my breath is taken
a year and a life time…
the boy who stole my heart
our world is changed forever
with the rising of the sun, our son
thank you. 
happy birthday my dear sweet

erin darcy photography

february 2nd, 2014

every day love letters
checking in with self
a moment to reflect
to practice
to commune.
a moment to set intentions
to dedicate
to take a moment to breathe in deeply, and out slowly.
to be conscious of where my true self lies
to put pen to paper and let thoughts flow freely
reminding myself throughout the day – to go with love.
so each day, i can check off another
and begin again

how are you showing yourself love?

Ode to Self

With love, I begin.
After all, isn’t that how we all begin?

Pacts with self to honour body, mind, and soul.

Appointments made and commitments honoured
Guilt free purchases as gifts and tools for myself
for healing and maintaining
for the me right now, and my future self, who will thank me.

Love letters written to self every day
To begin opening communication. Relationship’s take work, including those with self – the most important.
When we don’t serve ourselves well.. how can we possibly serve those that we love?
(For the month of February my soul sister Marybeth is offering you 28 days of inspiration and prompts to begin communicating and seducing your sexy and divine self – read more over here )

Moving my body with love
Eating with love
Breathing with love

The beginning is the hardest part, I remind myself… Begin.
Begin, and through the awkward and ungraceful – breathe.
Begin, and know that you have made the biggest step.
Begin.

Love always

you and me

it’s 2:43am right now
the nights and early mornings belong to us.
you and me.
the hum of snoring from upstairs, the early morning singing from the birds..
and then there’s you and me, the glow of the living room full of our dance
while the rest of the world around us sleeps.

in these moments
it’s you and me…
and i try to memorize every bit of you
all of these bits of you that are my world,  i think ‘how could i ever forget this? i will never forget this’
but of course i will.. because you will continue to grow, newly emerging and constantly evolving and so much to soak up.. so much.

right now
i imprint it in my mind
what it feels like to scoop  up all 27 pounds of you in my arms, the weight of you feels familiar, how will i ever forget this?
…but i’ve already forgotten the weight of your tiny seven and a half pounds, swimming out of the waters and to my chest…
the way you curl into me, nestling in deep.. as if to be one with me again
…i can barely remember how my swollen belly touched my thighs as i sat, your world inside me.
the way your sweet golden head fits in my hands
…that moment of feeling the silk of you between worlds.. when your head actually fit cradled in my hand.
your bunny teeth when you laugh
… your first gummy smile that is a long distant memory of many smiles

there was a time when i didn’t even know *you* … impossible

how can i hang on to it all… my memory betrays me
your sister sleeps sprawled next to us in bed, and in those moments, my world is expanding and crushing all at once. my god.. my girl.. when did you get to *be* ?
hardly recognizable from the wee one that was once my you & me, night time dance and moonlit serenade.

here i sit
the sweetest suckles of you at my breast
your fat fingers, dimples dotting your hands.. holding onto my shirt, exploring my mouth, nose, eyes..
your eyes that are looking into mine.. your eyes that are mine

i’ll forget the way you babble
the sound that i know so well
your voice, the only voice of yours that i know
i would know in a crowd
that very one… i’ll forget
as it’s replaced with even more of you

oh it’s bittersweet
these milestones and memories are like stretchmarks
first so brightly hued. so vivid against the blank spaces
so deep and rich
and then they fade with time, they are there.. still woven in to the fabric of *being*
but forgotten about.. blending in to the rest
silvered and soft
when you suddenly pay attention, catch a glimpse, you just may be able to recall what each one was
but probably not
they all start to fade together, become part of the whole story.. the whole package
every little journey
so obviously there
and yet…
memory fails
and i’m left in the middle of the night, with you in my arms
trying to memorize the weight of you
the scent behind your ears
the way your chubby foot fits in my palms
the way your eyes search mine as i sing, rocking you to sleep.

i’ll miss this you & me
and i love this..
and i can’t wait for more

but right now
all i’m thinking about
is memorizing the weight of you in my arms
how will i ever forget
when you’re towering over me, a grown man child
who once fit so sweetly in my arms, my you & me.

erin darcy design

I’d love if you took a moment to check out my new creative home www.erindarcydesign.com
it’s where I’ll be sharing my creatings and random musings
I’ll be keeping this space, though it is in dire need of an update – I just don’t have the energy to focus on that

september 22nd

standing in the kitchen, swaying with a sleeping babe on my chest
it only feels like a few moons ago that i was standing in that very spot, swaying, a full belly and babe inside.

the trees have changed already
i watched, from that window- the bare naked trees, the morning fog, the chill as spring woke up
and suddenly as i stand there swaying, i notice that the once bare trees are already changing to golden amber.
time has passed me by
and the babe that i distinctly felt every crease and fold of his body leaving mine
is suddenly sprouting a tooth

the sun settles in, the chill creeps through the window panes
and the smell of fire fills the air.

waxing and waning into the seasons changing
while little ones legs stretch longer, taller, faster
and smiles change shape with giggles and laughter

where the wild things grow…

we discovered that a faery has been busy building her home in our back garden
right between the sprouting apple tree and lavender
here’s hoping we’ll get a glimpse of her
as she brings the acorns from the trees
and drops conkers down to school kids that pass by

my favourite artist

my girl, this moment.. this moment, i think was more exciting for me than when you took your first step.
i was giddy with delight watching you just weeks ago squiggle some circles and eyes, all mashed up in a doodle only recognizable by me and you. and as we create side by side, me pausing while i paint to draw things you request – faces to determine how they feel ‘happy, sad, cwyin’, uhset, ahngwee’ – to see your scribbles start to transform again
as you draw eyes so carefully, little details.. unibrows, coloured in cheeks… spikes of hair all over your dad’s face.

i’m in awe watching you
this is one of my favourite things about children and art – seeing these progressions..how it is the same across the board, these same steps we all take.
it’s thrilling to have you eager to draw and paint with me (even when that means sharing my good art supplies)
i’ve been dreaming of these days for years, before you were a spark in my womb…

and this very first picture you’ve drawn of mama and dada, my treasure. i will save it forever

bare it all

a few times i’ve been self conscious.. asking if my man thought it was okay that i was printing nude pictures in our baby books. nudes of me. wondering what our babies would think of those pictures as they grow up- would they cringe and be embarrassed that their mom actually printed those in the book? would they roll their eyes at what a weirdo she is? would they even care?

i thought about it even more when i knew the possibility of having a boy, i’m not really sure why i felt it would be any different – but there you have it.

but the thing is, i take these pictures for me, and i also take them for the future. i take them because i find them beautiful. they are my time line of motherhood, my time line of becoming.  they show my children that i am human… they show my children what a normal woman looks like. they show my children their mother, the intimate bond that we share through my body- through birthing them, nursing them, sleeping with them, soothing them, bathing with them. this is our history, this is the fabric of what our foundation is built on- my body is their home.. and these pictures capture it just so.  these pictures are ours. and when i am an old wrinkly great grandmother – these pictures will be a treasure.

i think about my daughter, when she grows up and has babies of her own – that she will have these images of her mama, her mama so proud of her body and all that it has done and held. she will have positive images of a woman that she knows deeply – but often forgets that she was once a young woman too.  i would love to have pictures like this of my mama, i’m not sure if i would have fully appreciated them until i became a mother. it isn’t until i became a mother that i understood how fiercely my mom loves me. until i realised how beautiful i am, because my mom once held me as a perfect, beautiful baby. i never realised how heartbreaking it would be for your child to not like themselves as they grow up, when you love every inch of their little selves.  when they judge themselves harshly – and all you, as their mama can see- is the way they shine.  it is only now, that i know my mama on a different level – seeing that she was once me.. it’s that cliché of calling your mama in the middle of the night when you’re up with your baby- to thank her for everything she has done.. because now, you get it.. you recognize her as human.. you recognize her as you.

i think about my son, when he grows up and is with the woman that he’ll have children with – how he will see these images of his mama and know that this is what a normal woman looks like, that he will celebrate his woman’s body too. i think about her, my daughter-in-love, and i give these images to her so that she sees me as a person too, as a woman too, as a sister too… and i give her these pictures so she can see my strengths and weaknesses, so she can see a positive way to love your body.

and that is why i often share them here, too, for you. because you have proven time and time again that society needs to see women like this. i need to see women like this.

i do it for myself.

{placenta alchemy}

i am mesmerized by placentas
it’s okay if it’s not your thing, i get that.. people don’t like to confront a placenta – it’s the ‘after birth’ forgotten about

but it is so divinely magical…
how beautifully they grow to nourish a babe for 10 moons
how, when a woman is newly pregnant- she is not just growing a babe, but also the one thing that will keep her baby alive
the baby’s companion, it’s own womb mother
and many cultures believe that the baby’s spirit is within the placenta

you see truly beautiful ones, and you also see some gnarly ones – some placentas that you wonder how it was possible that a baby survived, let alone  healthy.  it seems to easy to forget what a miracle it is to grow a baby, when babies are born around the world every minute – but seeing the placenta brings it all back – holy holy, we are incredible… the miracle of creation, of our delicate veins in our bodies, of our organs just so.. of the spark of sperm meeting egg. just. wow. all of that and more can be witnessed in the placenta.
we forget about these things now, with the way that consumerism is about pregnancy – we’re just focused on a baby, on growing a baby… but it’s vital that we aim to grow beautiful, healthy placentas- for our beautiful healthy babies.

there are various beliefs around the world and methods around honouring the placenta once it’s done it’s job and is born
it is not just carelessly discarded as medical waste.
instead – celebrated and given thanks, used as a medicine.

with jack’s placenta – i dried the umbilical cord in a spiral, this is his talisman - it was believed that we came from the stars, birthing through the milky way, to this earth. the cord represents not only the connection between mother and child, but also to the stars. it is an important ceremony for the baby, keeping his/her umbilical cord, in a beaded bag to keep for the life of the child.
it is said to be a token of good luck, prosperity, health.

my midwife infused her spirit, literally and figuratively with a piece of his placenta to make my tincture – this tincture will last a life time, and can be used by me – and by jack, as his constitutional remedy in homeopathic medicine. it is suggested that this is good to take during times of transition, anxiety, separation.
at three months post partum i started to feel a tinge of post partum depression – so went ahead and strained the placenta and made a remedy for myself. the placenta is now still infusing with the spirit, and i feel that i will strain it completely when it has infused for 10 moons.

my midwife took the rest of my placenta, dried it, and ground it up into a powder for me. originally i was also going to eat some raw in a smoothie after the birth, but since our immediate post partum was a trip to the hospital for stitches and back home again- i wasn’t in the mood, and asked her to dry all of it.

with the dried placenta- i will take some of it to make into a healing salve for wounds.
but right now, i am using some of it as an offering.
some would encapsulate this and take as pills, or incorporate into chocolates for the post partum mother.

the placenta nurtures and nourishes babies to grow from the tiniest spark, into miraculous little people
and so, it is the foundation of manifesting something into reality… to give thanks, gratitude, and use in an offering to manifest something that is wanted or needed.

i combined the ground placenta with plants that were relevant to me in his pregnancy -
seaweed from the connemara coast – a connection back to the salty womb waters that we all are born from.
the first snowdrops of the spring season before he was born
the dried roses that adorned my head during my blessingway
sunflowers from my herbmother – who first gifted me her placenta wild crafting offering that i am enchanted with
calendula and lavender for healing

it was really lovely for me to be able to grind the plants and mix with the placenta while jack lay right there beside me working… talking to him about it, and giving thanks to this beautiful organ for giving life to him, bringing him into this world safely.