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Posts Tagged ‘love’

My Husband and I snuggling in the grass when we first got together long before the birth of our daughter.

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My little SweetPea loves the outdoors. Now I must say “loves” doesn’t quite do justice to my daughters feeling about the outdoors, so let’s see if I can help you understand….

Imagine the biggest meltdown your child ever had pre six months of age, tears running down their face, skin bright red and blotchy as screams turn silent with intensity. Your pulse quickens as your heart hastily prompts your head to find a soothing answer, singing, rocking, hushing, a toy distraction… nothing works and the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness as you watch your baby’s sadness consume them begins to rip at your heart…

… so I walk outside.

And this little person in my arms instantly morphs from an unrecognizable bundle of unhappiness to a glowing ray of sunshine, head held high, mouth agape as goos and awes of delight float freely from her big gummy smile. There’s no other way to describe it than the miracle of the earth.

Once her love of nature had been discovered naturally we took her camping, and perched high on a hill lain on a blanket in the shade she played and laughed as goats walked by and the earth enveloped her ever sense as my doting gaze was held in rapture witnessing her embody happiness itself… and I couldn’t help but soak up some of those extra rays of sunshine and bask in her overflowing delight.

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The first time my daughter smiled it brought tears to my eyes. It was early morning and we were lying in bed, just learning each others faces enjoying those magic moments of complete consumption that can only occur between a mother and her child. “Mommy loves you!” I told her with great enthusiasm, and just as the words slipped from my lips she smiled, and that fire in my heart that ignited the first time I touched her grew and as tears ran down my face I felt the flames rise as her happiness stoked the love I held deep in my core.

A few months later we sat on the front porch, my SweetPea resting on my knees as she looked out at the world. A rampant wave of energy coursed through the air as our overgrown puppies began to wrestle their way through the parking lot. The stir of yellow and black fur caught her attention and she focused her gaze on the two thrashing dogs rolling across the dirt closely followed by our curmudgeonly old man of a dog indiscriminately barking his protest at the fun these youngins were continuing to have. And then it happened… She laughed, just a few short rich chuckles followed by a giant unabashed smile. Like someone took all the Love and Confidence in the word swirled it around and topped it with a healthy drizzle of Pure Joy and just a hint of magic. It was amazing, heart wrenchingly beautiful, and the most wonderful sound I have ever heard in my entire life.

Laughing came on slow. A little chuckle here and then nothing for weeks, and then during a diaper change or a play session with daddy we’d hear that little giggle again. At this point I was hooked. I was hooked on the joyous cadence that I knew could erupt from her tiny lips at any moment. I tried everything, but she never laughed at the same thing twice; it was always something new and exciting that would spark her next burst of joy…

… Until yesterday

We’d just arrived home from a long and grueling day in town, shuffling her in and out of her car seat as we went from store to store, SweetPea trying to nap the whole time only to be woken up at the next stop just as she nodded off, but as is almost always the case she was a good sport about it, and arrived home ready to be out of her car seat but happy. After the car was unloaded she sat in her dads arms on the front porch once again; the dogs running about playing and barking, and then it happened. She laughed, and it was as if her little heart overflowing with bliss unleashed its happiness upon the world and gushed exquisite pleasure as beat after beat continued to flow into the vibrant air surrounding her, and as she laughed the seconds strung into minutes and my heart was filled with love for this little person whom I’d made from my own flesh, and the happiness she was so freely sharing with all of us.

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I’ve been away from my blog for a while, everything else just seems to have become more important, and “Me” time that wasn’t strictly dedicated to removing curdled bits of baby vomit from my clothes and cleavage had become few and far between.

Becoming a mother is by far the best way to have your life turned inside out and all of your priorities rearranged by an 8 pound midget, now I say rearranged instead of reorganized, because there is nothing organizational about the first few months of having a child. There is no schedule on which they do anything, which in some ways was a blessing upon my overly organized, mostly self centered life.

My Sweet little SweetPea arrived at 7:04 on the evening of February 15th also known as the hardest and most gratifying day of my entire life. I don’t think there is a single moment in my life that will require more concentration, and more physical and mental stamina than giving birth did. It was extreme in every possible application of the word, and created change in every imaginable part of me.

There was a moment between the emergence of my daughters shoulders and when I reached down to pull her the rest of the way into the world and up onto my bare chest where I felt something entirely new. A new sensation that consumed me wholly, starting hot in my heart, and twining its way through every particle of my being until every inch of me was smoldering with the warm embers of a fire that I knew could never be put out, sparked by this creature I could finally feel against my sweat dampened skin, and at that moment I experienced for the very first time Unconditional Love. When she looked into my eyes it was complete and utter euphoria. I would do anything for this person, anything to keep her happy, and anything to keep her safe and protected from all forces that may wished to harm her. And I would Love her, I would Love her until the end of my days, with ease through the good times, and with unfaltering fortitude through any moment she suffered. I would love her no matter what, no matter what she did or what she became, no matter how proud I was, or how badly I wished she’d change her mind I would Love her.

I was hooked; the center of my universe instantly transported itself from the base of my own heart, and nestled within the chambers of hers just as if it had been there all along, and five very short months later, that is where my center continues to reside.

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Today I am 37 weeks pregnant, which starts the final count down to Birth-day… and may I just add that it’s hard to start a count down when the possibility of having Sweet Pea today is just as possible as having her five weeks from now. So we wait…

37 weeks… Wow! What an incredible long way we’ve come since that extra pink line appeared on the pregnancy test strip. I was in such awe at the concept of actually being pregnant that I took a test every day for a week and lined them all up next to each other on the bathroom counter just to be sure it was still true, but the line just got darker and more defined as each day went on, and somewhere inside myself I knew it was true.

33 weeks and 5 days later I have become quite large, and that little person I could feel only with my inner senses has made herself very prominent in my body, and quite obvious to the outside world. So prominent in fact I can hardly even remember what it was like to not be pregnant, to not have a huge belly full of squirmy littler person in front of me everywhere I go, to sleep all night without getting up to pee. I mean I used to run, Heck I used to walk, and now my fastest means of transportation is a nice slow waddle, and if I stretch the boundaries of my pre-pregnancy memory I can almost recollect a time when I could roll over in bed without getting beached half way through by the weight of my ever expanding abdomen, and Oh what a magical time that was!

Everyone goes on and on about how pregnancy is such a “special, magical, wonderful” time in a woman’s life… and it is… at least from the perspective of what your body is doing, what your body is making inside of you and how relatively short the time frame is when you think about all the cell replication and how quickly the final product is accomplished, but from the perspective of a sore, achy, tired, nauseated, squished bladdered, cumbersome, pregnant woman who can’t see anything between her belly button and her knees the experience doesn’t always exude “special, magical, wonderfulness”.

Do you know what the really “special, magical, wonderful” time in a woman’s life is? It’s the time she spends NOT pregnant. The time she spends before and after the birth of a child when her body is at its best leaving her physically able to do all she can do. When reaching for a dropped piece of paper is still a possibility, when trying to itch her shoulder doesn’t pull a muscle in her back, when she can enjoy the freedom of moving from one position to another without having to expertly devise and execute a plan of attack. Those were the days, and will hopefully “soon” continue to be the days, and I can’t imagine a moment more fulfilling than sitting with my husband and our new baby girl, her on the outside and me not-pregnant just enjoying being a family together, now I know it takes being pregnant to get to that picture, but I’d rather view the part of my life that is going to be the majority as “the most special time in my life” than try to falsely glorify the discomfort of pregnancy to unsuspecting hopeful mothers to be.

Being pregnant is a very Sepcial, Magical, Wonderful time in a woman’s life, but NOT being pregnant… is even better!

 

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I spend a lot of time thinking about parenting, thinking about the best possible way to be the best possible mother I can be. I’ve chosen a much more natural version of parenting than is commonly seen in America, but I feel confident in it all the same. Parenting is something that should be done from the heart, and the decisions you make for your child should be the kind of decisions you can stand behind.

I am a strong believer in parenting from the heart. As a human female I already posses all the tools I need to take care of my new baby strictly based on instincts alone, but we live in a modern society where we’ve out thought our basic human instincts, and for the sake of living in a modern world some adjustments must be made, but those adjustments don’t have to compromise my values, and whether it’s to my benefit or detriment  as a mother the abundance of commerce in today’s world has made so many choices available when it comes to the quality of products I can choose to put on and near my child.

We’ve chosen to cloth diapers our baby for comfort and to minimize our contribution to the already overflowing landfills on this planet, but my main motivation for them is because it’s what I’d rather wear, and if put into my little Sweet Pea’s shoes (well… booties?) it’s no questions that I’d rather have some nice soft fabric against my new to the world heiny than some chemically conspicuous plastic disposable against my fresh young skin, and that’s just what seems most “natural” to us, so it’s what we do.

Together my Husband and I have made the choice to raise our daughter as naturally as possible, and by naturally I don’t mean keeping EVERYTHING 100% organic and chemical free (Though a lot of things we use are) I mean naturally in terms of our Nature.  Following our instincts as human beings, and doing what comes most simply to us as her parents.

I apply the same general theory to all of my parenting concepts; I simply ask myself “If I were a brand new baby-person in this world, what would make me the most comfortable and secure?” and then I do it. Now it may not always work, or it may not be the correct answer for the situation, but in order to find good solutions and create good practices as a parent you have to start somewhere, and where better to start than to look inside yourself and do for your baby what you would want done for you.

I will make so many mistakes because parents… no… people make mistakes, lots and lots of mistakes, but mistakes made out of love and an attempt to do the best things possible are the kind of mistakes you should (and can) be proud of. So as I embark on my journey into the unknown world of parenting I am grateful to know that I do not stand alone, but that the knowledge of those who came before me rests somewhere in my DNA, and the knowledge of those who come with me rests right here… on the internet.

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There is a small person living inside of me, changing and growing every day. I’ve never seen more than a fuzzy colorless image of her on an ultrasound screen, her little nose and her little hands; her little heart beating so fast. Such a tiny glimpse into who will soon most certainly become the center of my world.

Yet some how I know her, as if I’ve known her my whole life and just been waiting for our time. My little Sweet Pea, My Daughter, this little girl person made entirely out of Love. I knew she was a girl before she was conceived. My first born was always going to be a girl, and the ultrasounds technicians confirmation was just the recognition of a premonition I’d had years ago.

I wish there was a way to explain her personality, the way she thinks and reacts. How with only a nudge I know what she feels, what she needs. She’s already capable of so much, of so many emotions and it makes me wonder if we will still be so closely linked when she is no longer kept alive by the beating of my heart. Will I still know her then? Will I still understand her wants and desires? I like to think the connection will only deepen, and that being able to share her completely with her father will tighten the already unbreakable bonds of our family.

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