My final "Lesson" from this whole experience

Wed- full moon, 39 weeks, sunny and cool

Short update: My post yesterday ended up being like a bucket to-do list... totally unexpected. I spent the day tearing up at singing "The Little Drummer Boy" with my son. Giggling wildly over my daughter's antics. Seeing the divine child, the light of the world, the hope and love and spark that resides in every child, and feeling overwhelmingly blessed at being able to take part and nurture that spark. Physically, I feel good. Huge, crampy, but rested and content.

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This is not the blog I intended for today. Brigid blessed me with insight this morning and by the time I reached the end of my writing, it was not at all what I had sat down to write. Sometimes the best things go kinda like that.


Three words of the wise:

• What will be will be
• Gratitude
• Feel, experience, let go

These are hard for me, as they all tend to work in the Water area, of which I have...difficulty.

Knowledge (Air), leads to physical doing (Earth), leads to letting go (Water), leads to passion (Fire), leads to Transformation (Spirit). This works in transcendent drumming, spiritual ecstasy, trance, orgasm, and as I was led this morning: in childbirth. They don't always happen in the same order, but to "achieve" (not the right word, but it's what we say...) that place of being, of transcendence, of what the Pentacostals would call "slain in the Spirit" and Witches would call "Ridden by the God/dess", at some point you have to go through all four elements and reach Spirit.

I've taken care of my body and baby (Air), I've conceived and carried and given of my body (Earth), now I'm sitting in the Water, learning the three words above. Fire will come during childbirth, as will Transformation, Transcendence, and Spirit. If you end up with a C-Section or a miserable birth experience, fear not: Spirit can always be found in the baby's first cry and the light in their eyes.

One day, I hope to even find Transformation and Transcendence to help people who have the worst of experiences, like a friend of mine who had a baby born Still at 42 weeks. I can't dwell on that now, as it would not be beneficial to my own birth experience, but one day I will. It's there...I can feel it...but not. right. now.

Where does that movement through the elements and Transformation through Spirit lead us?

If it all starts with the act of lovemaking and the carrying of a baby (with all of the giving-stuff-up including one's body) is surely an act of love, as well as the gift of Mother Nature to empower women to step into the unknown, to surrender to the birth process, then it's all about Love.

Then to care for that helpless, crying, drooling, screaming little one in the middle of the night=Love. To see the light and spark within them=Love. To accept them as they are, to love them because of who they are, rather than in spite of it=Love.

It all leads to Love. Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Spirit. Love. Divine Spark. God. Goddess. Deity. Connection. Love. We are the Weavers and the Web. Be fierce. Stand up for what's right. Surrender. Feel Love and give Love.

I hope women, their partners, and/or their lovers can make informed choices, move through the elements, reach Spirit/God/Divine through their birth experiences, and become the parents that find the peace and joy the spark of a child can bring. To show honor to our children, to treat them gently and with respect, guide them-firmly at times, but fair, True, and with Love. These children will go on to (hopefully) do the same for others. Then we will have Peace on Earth, Goodwill for all, and Love will be in our hearts and lives.

Therein lies the meaning of having a baby at Yule.

Always look on the bright side of life *whistle*

Tuesday-cloudy, cold, hot chocolate kind of morning

The kids' bags are packed, everything is ready, I can't think of anything left that I said I'd do later. I'm at 39 weeks tomorrow, which doesn't mean anything at all, really. For the last two days I've been feeling like it's time, my head full of labor-land, cramps at night which could go either way, with essentially 8 to 14 days of just. waiting. for. it. It can be maddening and I'm kinda getting into "eff it...whatever..." mode. Next up will be "crying...can't be pregnant another day...I AM SO DONE!" mode, probably about a day or two after my due date ;)

Last night, I stared into the fire as it was Brigid's night to tend, which usually brings a message or thought of some sort. I wasn't disappointed. I could see in the embers, clear as a painting, a woman nursing a small baby (with facial features, even!) as a boy looked on. The way the small logs were stacked even created an ambient feeling of a manger or cave or temple space. It was a good reminder of *why* I need to wait until the baby and my body are ready. It felt...nice. Like a warm hug.

Useless Anecdote: Anyone that knows me knows I am not patient. When I decide "hey, let's go on a vacation..." or whateverthehell, it's going to be this weekend or next week. Same with starting a project or a craft or updating the kids' school records.

I'm gazing into the embers and trying my damndest to listen and be still, but all I can think in my mind, my brain, my being is PLEASE HURRY UP AND LET IT BE TONIGHT!!!!!!!!!! No, really, I know that I can't hurry it and I should just find peace and wait. TONIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Pleaseeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Then the unthinkable happened. The log crashed down and decimated the entire scene. Make of that what you will, but I'm going to say that it was a pretty clear indicator that my impatience is ruining the last bit of pregnancy. There's so much to enjoy and feel warmth over still and I'm trampling the flowers to get to the river. I really have no reason to not enjoy this last week...I'm mostly comfortable; I have a decent back-up sleep plan for when I'm crampy and unable to sleep. I'm just...well...not good at waiting.

So here's a short list of things I'm going to try to think about when I get completely batshit crazy impatient:

• It's the last bit of time I'm going to get to be just me and youngen 1 and 2 during the day. We should paint or color or stitch or something.
• I get weepy every time I hear a song about child being born. Um...given that I *lurveeeee* Christmas/Yule/holiday music, it's just about every 3 minutes. This is a fantastic time of year to give birth and I haven't explored the 10th of what it all means. I'll probably blog about this later, when I've had more time to consider it...
• Giving birth by the tree-light is going to be awesome.  (Not that thinking about it helps my patience at all.) Decorating is a good distraction.
• The only expectations of me are those I place on myself. The house stays mostly clean, we homeschool for pete's sake! so the requirements are as low as I choose to let them be. Quite literally, I could lay around, watch TV and eat bon bons all day and everyone would say "well done! You stayed off your feet!" *eyeroll* 
• My wonderful husband has stepped up his game in the cooking/cleaning/helping/etc department. I think he's about as ready as I am and even less good at being patient, which is comforting in its own way. What woman would turn down an involved, caring, sympathetic husband?

and my favorite:

• When the baby's moving all around, I can just ignore it, roll over, and go back to sleep. Won't be able to do that in a very short time.

How did I miss this?

Sunday-quiet, chilly, calm. Grey, overcast, breathe.

First, an update: Those wonderful hormones, Relaxin, that make your muscles and joints turn to jelly so delivery goes easier backfired on me this week. I pushed the dutch oven with my instep and as Newtonian Physics would assert, my hip went in equal proportion backward, and with those lovely jelly joints, I separated my pelvis and popped the cartilage.  The good news is: it went back together. The bad news: it's sore. Walking sucks. It's been nearly a week and I can only get around for about 15 min. before I need to sit and get the 6-7 lb baby off of those muscles.

I hate to sound like a whiner, but it certainly sped up the "I am so done with this" sentiment. BTW, I totally hate that I can't be honest about how I'm feeling without people shutting down as soon as I mention I'm in pain. I won't go on a rant, but our society has little patience for weakness, pain, and hurting. Find yourself in the electric cart/buggy at the grocery store, thankful for the technology, and just *see* the way our society looks down on it. It was all I could do not to start crying, wanting them to understand that I'm 9mo pregnant with a separated pelvis, instead of the looks of complete disdain I got for daring to be weak enough to be one of "those people."

For a little positivity, I've purposely switched from thinking about my due date as being 2.5 weeks from now and instead thinking that I have 17 days left. The larger number has made me less anxious and I can focus on *not* going into labor during Thanksgiving ;)

The blog today is very Goddess heavy. Fair warning.

And now for the music:

Nine Months
Three Trimesters
Neatly sliced and dated

That's not quite true
Dates are irrelevant
1st Trimester=getting adjusted, hormone change, uncertainty/worry
2nd Trimester=the good life, baby moving, nice pretty baby bump
3rd Trimester=uncomfortable, uncertainty/worry returns, shuffling walk

Yet another glorious display
Maiden, Mother, Crone


...
 I came to this realization when I was behind an elderly lady with a walker, going down the ramp. Her friend, a more mobile, elderly woman looked at me like she half expected me to go around, to be impatient...as we young folk tend to do. I smiled and said, "I'm not getting around much faster these days." She laughed and (of course) asked me when I'm due. I have a hard time answering that...so I laughed and replied, "not nearly soon enough." She wished me well and we went our ways. But in that moment I realized how similar those last few weeks waiting for the transformation through life are to the transformation through death.

I spend most of my day wondering when I'm going to go into labor. Curious if it'll be today, or weeks from now. Very much like elders have told me (and you, as well) in the poignant statements of "it may be my last birthday" or "When you get to be this way, no one comes to visit anymore..." They recognize that they're approaching the end, they've made peace, they're in pain, yet after a few visits, people don't want to hear that they're in pain, no one understands the uncertainty of not knowing when this inevitable thing is going to happen. So they (and I) distract ourselves with TV, books, activities, chatting, while trying to take it easy, not accidentally pull a hip apart, effing tired of laying on the couch and sitting around.

We fill calendars with things that happen at specific times, yet birth and death, the ultimate transformations, give no RSVP.

With this, you can see how easily the rest of the Trimesters line up with the Maiden and the Mother. The cycle repeats yet again. As the moon phases, as the life grows, as the crops are harvested, so is She in all of the cycles.

...
If you made it this far, you deserve a funny. I told Spanish Moss about how *everyone* asks me when I'm due...

Me: Today the lady at the commissary checkout asked me how much longer until I have the baby.
SM: You should have told her, "Aisle 7"

Setting Boundaries...Or: Why I'm an A**hole

Friday, Cold in the house, I might go out and get more firewood

I'm feeling great, y'all. Thanks for asking. Here's your update: So far, for every 2-3 nights that I get no sleep, I get a respite and sleep really great for a night. The baby has been low and (mostly) out of my ribs. I've had energy the last few days and have been very thankful for this time with my two youngens to appreciate and enjoy being the "four of us" before adding another child.

I was feeling so good last night, I cashed in my one and only "go get me whatever I want to eat, no matter what time it is." Last pregnancy, it was a banana and mayo sandwich (stop judging!) at 3am, so SM was more than willing to go out for wings ;) It felt so amazing to be out and about in town while feeling good and motivated and energetic. Even if we go out on the town again as a family before the birth, I think I'll remember this one as our last outing as a family of four. It was that wonderful.

So, why I'm an a**hole...

Back in the day when I was a first time mama, I had lots of people come over after the baby was born. Co-workers, family, friends, all meaning well and wanting to bring me flowers and visit for a bit. Odd thing was, the *last* thing I needed was people to clean for and entertain, germs in and out of the house, worrying about providing dinner if it was getting around that time, feeling awkward breastfeeding and now having to get up and go in a different room and try to hurry him through, which just made everyone frazzled.

My second child could not have been more different. We were in Ohio, far away from everyone. I only had a couple of visitors and they always came bearing frozen lasagnas and toys for the *older* kid to keep him occupied. My BFF came and stayed for a week and it was amazing! She cooked and cleaned and helped with everything so that SM and I could just enjoy settling in to having a newborn and I could lay on the couch, breast out, doing what needed to be done, sleeping mid-day when needed.

Here we are again, this time back in NC, where friends and family are. And of course, I get the call two days ago telling me (yes, telling, not asking...grrrr) that they're all coming on the 9th, which for those keeping count, is 3-4 days after my due date. If it were not for one of them flying in from out of state, I'd tell them to stuff it for another week. I *do* want to see them, but I'm squigging out over having them here overnight, so soon after birth.

Here's where the boundaries needed to be set. At the risk of being talked about for years and pissing everyone off, I set rules (gasp!) for their visit. I talked to all of them individually and laid it out, nicely, tactfully, but quite firmly.

• I need help, not visitors to entertain
• Boobage will be everywhere
• If I'm just laying around on the couch, or sleeping upstairs, just accept it and I'll be up within 2 hrs to nurse again anyway
• You will be feeding me, not me feeding you
• No germs. If you're even sniffly, come back in a few weeks when you're well
• Pitch in and take out the trash, wash some laundry, take the kids to the park...something. Anything.

You know what's crazy? Everyone sounded like they totally, absolutely got it. I set the boundaries clearly, they agreed emphatically, and the worry is gone. It's much harder to do with family than it is with friends, but friends are more likely to be timid and even less likely to just start throwing dishes in the dishwasher. Except for BFF's ;) They get that shit, lol.

This setting boundaries thing is nerve-wracking, but I've gotten much better at it. The worst that happens is someone decides I'm an A**hole and they don't want to visit after all. It has happened before... I'm really kinda okay with that.