birth.
the littles were playing in their room, keeping busy, bossing eachother around.
the baby was on my lap, we were lounging on the couch in our bedroom, on and off nursing, her favorite style. looking out the window at the slick wet of the green, the mucky brown of the almost tilled garden plot, the brightest blue jays soaring by, a turkey vulture even higher. i sipped my coffee and water (becasue i was nursing after all, the kid needs something other than caffiene) and I revisited her birth. i felt it in my wole body, in her whole body as she laid across my lap, hands reaching for my golden dove necklace pulling it, tugging it, her feet pressing into my belly flesh, her little toes flexed then pointed, flex then pointed. pushing herself away and then coming close. i closed my eyes tight and saw the space of that night she came through; the lit fire, the blue of the tub, the bubbles in the water, the shoulder of my lover. and the people around that should not have been there. i wanted to erase it. rewind. play it again.
oh, i long to write her birth story. but when i will, the fear will stop me from sharing it. unless of course i take the easy route and talk about it as it seems, at it looks to the bystander. Joy! Peace! Life! but to talk about the deep work that happened inside, the drum of destruction and the flag of surrender and the ache of regret. because the birth journey and the baby in arms are two very seperate experiences. yes. i give thanks i had my Z, not surgury all healthy. and no, it is not the birth i would have gotten if i honored the voice inside that said: intimacy. create intimacy.
i stopped myself in my tracks. i looked back at my ivory white child, her cheeks to damn rosie, her eyes rings of gray around swamp-green. she is here, and i love her.
i put her to my breast and she fell asleep finally. i played around on the computer, catching up on women who write and write really well. and i came across this, and she wrote exactly what i needed to read.
http://fourlittlebirds.blogsome.com/2008/06/28/intimacy-in-birth/
her post is why i fear to share a story of a birth that was so perfect yet so painful. and her post is why i must share it.
to truly listen to oneself and hear is the only story we can share. i can write Z’s birthstory the way everyone wants to hear it because damn it, i had a homebirth with a live baby. or i can tell it as it really happened, i can tell it with the lessons i learned. i can tell it as a heroine, which i am, but i must tell it as it was given to me.
i should have done it all alone.
As soon as i can muster up the courage to write it, I will. until then, thank you fourlittlebirds. Thank you.
Tell it like it is, mama. In your own way, in your own time, and know that whatever way and time that is, it will be the right way and time. Love you.
Comment by janehatesdick — August 1, 2008 @ 6:01 am
I do hope you’ll tell the true story. Maybe write out both side by side; I’d love to read both of them.
Comment by rixa — August 1, 2008 @ 11:38 am
oh my love, please tell your story, your side of it all… maybe getting it out there-off your chest, into words can help shine some light in all the dark places of your birth…
you are a warrior mama. you are strong, beautiful, intuitive… your body created, nurtured, and birthed three beautiful spirits-who will do amazing things in this world…
Comment by e.darcy — August 1, 2008 @ 1:25 pm
share it for you. for z. for others who feel the darkness in the light of birth and visa versa.
the journey matters.
xoxo
Comment by MereMortao — August 1, 2008 @ 2:41 pm
Yes, please write it, even if you don’t share it. Pimal desires are never “wrong” or shameful.
Comment by Must Be Motherhood — August 1, 2008 @ 2:49 pm
Oh mama friend of mine,
you mean the world to me. when you are ready to write it, i will be waiting in the wings to read.
xo
Comment by Heidi — August 1, 2008 @ 5:07 pm
holding your space.
Comment by amber — August 1, 2008 @ 5:18 pm
it is hard to write of descent, of destruction, of the chaos that can come when things start to unravel, even as the surface is calm and clean, like water that has never known wind.
i think it is hard because we are forced to find words for what is primal, beyond language and that part of our brain that houses our words.
And yet we do write it, we want to write it, and writing can and often does heal something.
because, when we find OUR words to say it, when you find YOUR words to say it, your truth is given back to you. YOUR truth. Which may piss some off or be misunderstood. And that’s theres, not yours to carry, as it does its work in taking them closer to their own truth.
Go gently, write with abandon.
And I am with you, it begins here, with the listening.
Know I enter this space with you, the listening space, and bear witness to what was born that night, born inside of you as you pushed her outside of you.
love to you.
Comment by bella — August 1, 2008 @ 5:19 pm
I am here to listen to whatever it is you want to say.
Comment by gearhead mama — August 1, 2008 @ 7:08 pm
I wondered. I wondered when I read your first posts after the birth. A complex mix of feelings — validation (I’m not the only one,) and sadness. I’m sorry it was true for you too.
And thank you. It’s a real effort for me to publish something so controversial, something that so many people are dismissive of, or outright hostile to. It’s important to me to hear that it means something to someone, that it matters that I made that effort. It’s what keeps me going with my writing about birth issues, seriously. I appreciate you letting me know, more than I can express.
And listen, I haven’t let the birth stories out that inspired my post, either. I find the prospect really, really scary.
Comment by Linda — August 2, 2008 @ 4:34 am
truth is powerful.
your words are healing.
we need to share our raw real stories, because the freeing strength they birth into the world is important.
thank you for being one of those who shares her truth, no matter how hard it is.
letting go of the fear of what others think is the first step. go back to your 10 mins of writing and get into that space in your head and heart.
love and light~
Comment by jouette — August 2, 2008 @ 9:12 pm
funny i share your hesitation about writing my first’s birth story. but for different reasons, though they may be truly the same. i ended up with the epidural so my story is a few steps back. so while i share your hesitation, though it may not have been perfect for you, I envy your birth experience. when i tell many an epiduraled or csectioned friend about my feelings i am met with the shame of feeling disappointed. she was perfect. dont be a hero. but the story is still ours to write and to own all the feelings wrapped in. if you decide to share it, i cant wait to read it.
Comment by Latisha — August 15, 2008 @ 11:46 pm