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Wednesday, August 27, 2014

eight journeys around the sun

Eight years ago today I was pacing my basement study, wringing my hands, crying, wanting to go into labor (I was in labor) for REAL, unsure of when this boy child of mine would finally emerge into the sunlit world.

The next day, by 6pm, he had. Finally. (Birth story here if you are interested)

And I had passed into that magical mystical ageless realm ... of motherhood.

And so this day, remembering that version of me. That scared girl with the swollen belly who later had to undergo a c-section. Its an emotional day for me. Its my day. Tomorrow is his. The first day of his ninth year around the sun. Today. This day. When I began entry into that realm. This is my day, our day, really. For he made me mama. And there is something so sacred about that.

Entering my ninth year of motherhood.



I want to hug that scared girl. Tell her its okay. Tell her her body will figure it out. Tell her to trust herself and the process. What's more. I want to tell her about the journey ahead, already unfolding on that hot day, pacing the basement. I want to tell her about the pure delight. The maddening frustration. Mostly about how her heart will still melt, eight years later, at those big brown eyes. Mama, please, can't you read one more chapter?

I want to tell her the amazingly heart wrenching unforgettably monotonous journey ahead. Mostly though, how its okay, how she is gonna kick ass at it. Breathe. Through each contraction, through each year, each bruised knee and fever and lost tooth and long day. Just breathe. Love it.

Kick ass.

the day before little man appeared, wringing of hands and pacing followed this picnic
meeting little man for the first time




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