Notes of gratitude

Before LDB was born he knew about music. I would sing to him every day in the womb. We had a morning playlist we listened to. Sometimes he would kick or boob me in response to what music we sang or listened to.

I have found a surreal sense of gratitude in sharing music with him each day. Today, on his fourth month birthday celebration we sat down at the piano and he listened, touched, kicked his feet, and observed his mama’s music time.

We sang through three songs and there were no tears or cries, just curiosity and joy. Music can always find a way to touch someone’s heart even when words are not known. 🎹 🎶

Surrealism come to life

When I was a little girl I would play a wide variety of imagination games. I grew up bouncing around the house, creating games with my friends, and pretending I was most often times Laura Ingalls Wilder.  My closest friend from Kindergarten through middle school and I would often argue about who would play Mary Wilder and who would be Laura. I vividly recall arguing amongst the vegetable boxes in our backyard while popping raspberries into our mouths. “You were Laura LAST time!” definitely came out of my mouth.

Growing up I never envisioned my wedding day, or marriage for that matter. I always felt like I knew that I would find a partner one day who would be the person I would love for life. One thing I did envision was a child. I grew into a full fledged babysitter when I was in sixth grade. I worked a full summer between eighth and ninth grade caring for three families children. I absolutely loved it. I would pretend what I would do if they were my child, I gave them their supper, helped with the jammies, read stories, and tucked them into bed. All the while I would wonder, one day, what a child of my own would be like.

Watching my nephew and nieces grow over the last twelve to fifteen years has been a remarkable experience. Being an aunt is hands down, the best role I was given in life. I had the benefit of loving, participating, and giggling with three adorable and loving children, but not having to do any of the tough parenting business.

Now, holding our three month old son, life seems completely surreal at times. Perhaps it is the lack of sleep and the settling hormones, but my feelings have shifted. At first mamma and baby hold there was an instant connection of, “I know you, but not your face yet…” and those moments turned to minutes, to hours, and then days of care for the tiny human. Now watching him develop and grow out of infant stages I find myself feeling more connected to our tiny babe. Is that possible? To feel more receptive, loved, and dare I say possessive of? I sit and rock him to sleep and don’t want to put him down. If I just hold him he’ll stay little forever right?!

The answer is yes. Just yes. Yes to all of it. A remarkable friend of mine said, “You’re in the middle of the emotion ocean of motherhood.” Hands down, this woman knows, and gets my current state.

Emotion ocean waves are strong. The fierce feels of concern, love, fear, and the balance of it all is mind boggling at times. Then there’s the surrealism aspect. Those breaths in between the shushing, the nursing, the burping and the rocking when I catch myself in the act of mothering and realize, “Wow. I really am a momma after all.” It makes me cry tears of gratitude for the little life in our hands, and also tears for each small milestone he accomplishes and realizing just how much he has grown, and how fast it all seems to go.

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Evolution of time

Blogging over the past year took a back seat for me until today…

Going into this year, 2018, I had to stop myself and reflect on the previous one. I had never thought I would face the next road as a woman without my sister by my side. I had wanted to be a mother since childhood, but I had not allowed myself to truly focus on that desire until something in our brain’s clicked.

Over the past three years I experienced many trials and milestones of strength being built one day at a time. There were countless times I would go to share something with my sister, Debbie, and I was not able to do so. Pregnancy is one of those remarkable and challenging life experiences that really makes a woman lean on her friends and family.

Throughout the nine months I learned something vital, I may not have my beloved sister to speak to directly. However, she helped me form an amazing network, a circle of women who are all sisters in some way. I had formed friendships that were rooted deeply in hope, faith, and love. I leaned into their love and opened myself up to broadening and trusting these amazing women.

They all know who they are. The many colors of our lives formed a beautiful rainbow that I could turn to when clouds began to form. Today marks the second month of my son’s life. I never allowed myself to fully focus on what he might be like, or what it might feel like to hold my child. I knew all too well the feeling of loss, having experienced it twice.

When I finally lay in the delivery room pushing and fully realizing that I would be a mother, I allowed the image to finally form completely. I saw the beach laid out before me. I went to the sand and the surf where I knew Debbie was one with our beloved Earth. I envisioned holding my son’s hand and carrying him along that very shoreline. I saw him laughing and running into the surf. I had not yet looked at our son’s face, but I knew it nonetheless. My heart knew who he was. I had my wonderful husband and beautiful sister-in-law on either side of me helping usher him into the world. Their helpful counting became a lull of waves along with the contractions I felt. I focused on the waves in my mind’s eye. Maybe it was the introvert in me, or maybe it was Debbie also helping pull me through, but honestly all I remember is seeing the waves crashing over and over. Those three and a half hours were worth the wait and the pain.

It has been said that through struggle we learn the true depth of our courage. Thank you to my mom for sacrificing what you did to bring myself and Debbie into this world. I truly believe that souls become intertwined and I know that the three of ours will always be so. I now know what it truly means to be a mother and to cherish the existence of a life that you can carry forth into the world.

Five days after our son was born, I stood in the window cradling him in my arms and I waited for the sun to shine in our window. I turned on John Denver singing, “Sunshine On My Shoulder,” and I cried. The tears just flowed forth as I felt waves of emotion wash through me. I still cannot listen to that song without crying. I knew in that moment that the sunshine, just like the moon, and the sea would continue to rise and fall. Humanity would continue to chart its course, and we, mere specks in time are a part of the greater universe that would move forward. Life has a way of bringing things full circle in your life. The one thing I can count on is that time will always pass by quickly and our lives will continue to evolve and grow.

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