birth markings

the very last mama made the most powerful example of why her ‘nest’ is so important exactly how it is..

i bare stretch marks with no shame..

i’ve talked about them through different points of my womanhood, i’ve shown the world my post partum pooch- no bravery necessary- there’s nothing brave about celebrating our beautiful bodies.
stretch marks.. my body, the world- stretching. becoming. from girl to woman, and woman to mother.. my body stretched and gave way, and i have the map to tell my journey on earth- etched into my very flesh.

my stretch marks, my sacred ode to womanhood. the memories of life changing and life growing, the original nest, ever expanding..

whether your body stretched to carry a life, or your fertile lands were scarred on battlefields of fertility medicines, never to carry life within- you were birth marked. your swollen belly, or belly so taught- your heart carrying your baby in another woman’s womb- stretched and birth marked.. becoming.. all the same. your story etched into your very being, etched into your flesh. your body cradling your baby- from whatever walk of life they came.

mamas, and sisters, and daughters- it’s time.
your birth markings are uniquely yours, and tell the beautiful story of your time here upon this earth. from your wombside waters you rushed down on, to the becoming of moontides. from maiden to matron to crone.

goodness me, honour that beautiful self. it’s time.

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january 27th, 2012

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january 26th, 2012

getting to test out the kinderpack toddler

i love wearing claire, it allows me to transition through my day doing whatever i need, and is an instant ‘reset’ button for her. climbing into a carrier, or wrap, or sling- her entire being is soothed and mellowed.. snuggling in deep, and often drifting off to sleep.  my much loved ergo has grown too small for us now (though, it’d still fit most children her age) so i’m loving the possibility of finding a bigger sized carrier for us to continue with.

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spiralling

i suddenly found myself in this downward spiral funk..
hormones shifting as my baby grows into a more independent soul
my breasts emptier, less full.. signs and symptoms of the return of a moon, only to be let down- no blood yet.
signs and symptoms of fertility returning, but met with the confirmation of a negative ovulation test
signs and symptoms, possibly pregnant? two negative pregnancy tests.
a baby clawing at my sad breasts, going back and forth trying to get the milk she desperately wants
all the while, becoming a puddle of tears- wondering what is going on in my body, and upset to think of her weaning because of whatever my body is doing..

all a tangle and twist of ‘why am i feeling this way?’
aching for signs of being ‘cured’ of PCOS, and emotional, knowing that my baby is quickly growing from her babyhood and well into a toddler.
the sudden dawning thought ‘what if i have to go through (in)fertility like before?’ i can’t bring myself back to that place.. it seems impossible to be there again when i have claire, when i don’t want to focus any energy and be in such a negative place hormonally and emotionally.

but of course, i wouldn’t be going back to ‘that place’. there is only the journey ahead, whatever that might bring. i’m not in the space to even think about that.. still.. the what if’s are calling..

the past few weeks have been so odd.. up and down, split. my stomach turning with the sky. rain and drizzle and the promise of the sun coming through.

tears spilled and breathing in the scent of my baby, as deeply as i can. holding her tighter, longer.. studying her face as she sleeps. all part of it.. this mothering thing. of letting go and making room, of letting babies grow up and explore further away. it’s bittersweet- i love watching her interact with people, so bold and brave and unquestionably loving everyone… and at the same time.. my baby. my baby. my baby.   my baby, stay my baby forever..

–

all this funk and hormonal shift. this moon and her intense pull..
trying to remember to nourish myself in ways that is good for my soul.
sepia melting on my tongue
hips swivel in circles in the hoop
bring myself back to my art..
nourish myself, lovingly.
a reminder to feel, whatever i feel.. without judging it. (sometimes that’s the hardest thing.. right? simply be.ing. without judgement)

how are you nourishing yourself these days?

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january 24th, 2012

stolen tomato while making dinner last night.. they’re her favourite

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january 23rd, 2012

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january 22nd, 2012

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january 21st, 2012

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words from this little mouth

‘thank you’ – dak ooh
‘please’ – deeeeeees
‘love you’ – laaa shuuu
dada – dada
mama – mama
baba (baby) – dada
baby- awww shhhhh *kiss kiss*
moo – dooo
dog – woof woof
cat- mmmeeeaaaww
peek-a-boo – ahdoo
hi – HIIII!!
night night- nini
shoe- shuuuu
*sneeze* – aah aah aaah
what does daddy do? – *lifts leg and farts with her mouth*
where’s your muscles? – *grrrrr*
1-2-3 – ‘ahn, doo, dee!’
‘milk’ – *chomp chomp*

the best ones, of course… are her own, long winded stories with arms flailing in the air..shoulders shrugging, and eyes waiting for your response.

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january 20th, 2012

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