a handful of

moments.

Jesse on my chest

I'm smelling his newborn head.

Could there be more to life than this?

I thought I’d listen to my playlist, thought maybe I’d paint, or knead some bread.

No–This time, there was no dawdling and pineapple smoothies. You were sure you were coming; we were ready and my body didn’t need that steak I’d thought of or even wait for a full dinner. So funny. I was so sure about the dinner but i

didn’t wait to be warm

you were coming, almost here

It was time, and we were 

both (you and i) 

ready.

Fuzzy little head –coned– your purple little body crying for the first time, I’m in the tub, your father behind me and I’m crying too, and we’re wrapped up in triumph and sacred, 

this and we are sacred 

and angels must have been kneeling with us in that tub, by your father and i as we said 

"oh he’s beautiful."

now I am trying to find my happy place again and this time, as I lay in bed trying to sleep, the beach i go to is one with your dad, your brother at my side, and you– 

My dream has updated in the moments since we met you, this complete is new.

together

This is who we are now

You are a part of me and us, part of my complete

We are playing on the beach now as 4

Maybe we always have been.

Now I know what they mean

“Your oldest will look so big all of a sudden”

How how? did your little feet come to seem so grown up?

 

When 

you hold him 

he is 

tiny and you’ve grown,

grown Gone 

are the days of just 

me and you, 

me and you, 

you and me, 

i miss the 

“just us” 

“you’re my best bud”

even as i’m in this joy

-full phase my heart 

crying this loss

This is always how it is shedding a skin, closing chapter mourning while so happy, and that is the light and darkness of painting we live in a world of beautiful lighting and contrast and warmth, my heart has grown and my life is bigger and both joy and I guess this grief are wanted in this family of 4

“Do you think joy can just grow?” i ask

“Can i pick up this feather, mom?” you respond.

moments

 My son

Who am i today?

Someone who wants to be here.

Someone who wants to be here, for you, my son.

“I will see you soon, mom!”

He says as he runs back around the corner instead of heading out to the car. He wants to say goodbye many times.

He gave me a kiss on my cheek, snuggled and kissed the baby in my arms, snuggled against me, kissed my cheek, snuggled and kissed the baby’s cheek, and again, and again, and again. 

“I love you so much,” I say. I hug him.

I don’t want him to stop these sweet goodbyes.

Grandma and grandpa are trying to get him out the door.

“I will be right back!” he says. “I will see you soon!” “I love you!” He runs back for another kiss. Be like this forever?

Just 10 minutes ago you were pinching me and I was mad.

Now I am hugging you, and never wanting to let you go. 

A day

My heels hurt, a little.

My shirt stinks, spit up on me, crying baby, toddler,

And i’m so happy.

It just takes 5 seconds of being called mama, him holding my hand, baby eyes smiling at mine,

To feel bliss.

through the crack of the door

The birth window is closing. It’s been almost 3 weeks and things have changed, like they always do. We are waiting for you to smile and I can feel the distance between me and magic.

Tired will do that to you

Tired and ‘my toddler doesn’t listen to me.’

But he does listen – he just might choose not to obey our nags. And he does run to K as he leaves for work and hug him. “I love you Dad!”

magic is still here.

Open my eyes to see it.

Calm babies are easier than crying babies. But you are still the one I cried for as I knelt in the tub, who I carried and will carry whether you're calm or cry.

Open my ears 

– i want to love you as you cry

Open my mind 

– there are many ways to mother and clear floors just get dirty again

I kneel in front of your big brother, in the bathroom, helping him go potty. Blonde curls – perfect ringlets – I’m eye level and his eyes are earnest and wide. 

There is no rush.

This is all I want right now.

they

 He:

4 days upstairs. Days of rest, grateful rest, holding and smelling you and Kaleb–

Kaleb did everything.

Good morning Kaleb.

He is bringing me breakfast in bed.

He is refilling my water bottles many times, daily.

He is bringing my journal and books from the downstairs couch.

He is helping our toddler, with everything.

Friends take him in the afternoon, to play, and we both crash, and nap,

And he is bringing me snacks for the night,

Putting our son to bed, changing diapers and burping the baby, he is the reason I can rest.

Good night Kaleb,

I love you.

Good morning Kaleb,

He is smiling as he lays out the breakfast option in a funny accent

And kisses me

And asks if he can get me

Anything else, Sweet Anna. 

Smiling gently, with happy eyes.

She:

Sarah, our midwife.

There almost too late.

Normally she wears an orange dress and a shawl, her orange hair and large birth-body-part earrings,

Her art in that office is all women and flowers and green plants and so I think about doing birth-art.

She talks a lot, when she’s on a subject.

But i like her. She’s got that nose ring and freckles and her daughter, who’s 9, and she cleaned up wonderfully after the birth, clean up our mess and did laundry, and pineapple, enough that I think I’d pay that $6,000 just for that, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it and could just snuggle you, baby, and rest –

This book the Fourth Trimester is worth more than all the pediatric and post-partum visits –

Your first doctor’s visit was a “missed opportunity” – all they did was measure you and ask about vaccines and tests, it seems.

But Sarah – we like Sarah

Sarah helps. and knows a lot, and offers.

I trust her, and her orange hair, and her shawl, and her large earrings, and her Sacred Wild Midwifery. She held you and crooned.

Fathers

 Father.

Laborland, the impending.

You whisper strong statements until I realize it is You speaking.

A list of things you sent me:

2 dreams

people

books

recordings

Miryam Brown

Rach Izu

Sarah Verhoef

Angels

temple trips

my son

visions

D&C 6

a journal

so many words of scripture (a gift. fear not. remember. can there be a witness greater than this? hold your peace...)

Bread

meals

small pieces of paper to put on the wall

a witness.

"whatever experience you'd like me to have..."

"a showing forth of my power." 

    -- my Almighty God

"A sacred, gentle home birth," I wrote. "To welcome him to earth."

(Father. Thank you. Father.)

mothers

 You are handing me a baby.

"Take it" you say. "He's beautiful. He's ours."

I am on hands and knees, tub water still clear, 

Kaleb squeezes on my hips and I think of this boy you're handing me -- 

I am surrounded by angels, and I know it. 

Them. I know them.

But you -- You are holding him and I am crying out

and he is passing through fire, and water, and his head will tumble out soon but now he is in the in-between

I am in the in-between

But you -- somehow, you are not.

You are clear, you are loving, you are solid, and sure. Somehow, you are unseen and unknown and yet gently you reach out your heart to me, hands outstretched with a boy.

Unseen, unheard, understood that we could not be motherless after all. 

My knees press bruises into the floor,

the baby gives me a rest for 20 seconds --

just long enough to feel that I am ready --

"I can do this"

"I am surrounded by angels"

"I love my baby"

Kaleb at my back, Sarah near the tub, in our home we are about to burst the veil, 

and I push through it --

His head, you are placing it in my hands

his shoulders, they tumble,

and I am reaching through the water bringing him up to my heart.

Mother I never saw your hands -- though I am sure he felt them--

and, "oh, he's beautiful." He's ours.