Friday, September 11, 2020

The Allure of Love

(Published 9/11/2020, written years ago... I didn’t take note of the date) 

Someone who does not run toward the allure of love walks a road where nothing lives. But this dove here senses the love-hawk floating above and waits, and will not be driven or scared to safety. - Rumi

Love calls us to follow.

A Bug's Life a film by Disney/ Pixar provides an illustration that comes to my mind when the two mosquitos are flying close to the illuminated bug zapper on the porch. One says, "NO! Harry, don't look at the light!" and the other says "I can't help it... it's so beautiful!" zzzzap! Then, Harry yells "Yahooo!" as he falls to the ground, perhaps just stunned.

I am a self-proclaimed committment phobe, and tend to attract the same. At the same time, years ago, I proclaimed myself a "Love Junkie"... the "allure" of drugs and alcohol was never as strong. I've always dreamed of finding the perfect mate, and tried legalized marriage twice without success. Intangible soulful connections have always lasted much longer... yet I still pray for a touch long lasting. I think I'm learning how to find this, in my "old age". ;)

The idea of arranged marriage is not one that I would readily consider, but the notion that any two people can learn to love one another is one that I believe in. I'm just a romantic and a bit of control freak in this regard. I want to remain inspired by the love in my life. I've heard so many times that the feeling of "being in love" is not lasting, and I don't want to believe it. So, I relish in the few stories of couples who have learned how to stay in love and in the recent scientific literature that this feeling can last a very long time. 

January 1, 2016

January 1, 2016

Sweet '16. I've heard gratitude journals are important tools for a good life, so I will be incorporating gratitude in with other thoughts as I blog this year. My goal is to add entries daily, and take photos of my children and myself daily as a fun experiment to see what we all look like in 365 days.

I am Cynthia. The mother of 3, grandmother of 1. Twice divorced, I feel like the widow of my second husband and biological father of my second daughter, eventhough we were together only about 9 months and maintained a challenged but mostly good friendship until his death at age 41. Our daughter was nearly 8 years old. I have been licensed as a massage therapist since 1999 (inactive 2004 - 2007). I feel passionate about the work and know without doubt how important massage is as an alternative remedy for emotional or physical stress, and I suffer burn-out all too often. I think I'm only cut out emotionally to manage a handful of clients, which I have since 2007. I'm still searching for what I want to be when I grow up, and I usually enjoy the path I've chosen, despite or perhaps because of the challenges of my lifestyle.

I homeschool my two younger children - Claire is currently 11 and Izak is 5. Ok, we "unschool" which to me means my children learn from life every day, in ways that are natural to them. We practice numbers and letters, reading is enjoyed daily; math, history, and science isn't structured currently, but after a recent move, we all look forward to setting up some structured learning this year. My children are brilliant and mature. I have no doubt of their abilities to learn what they need to when they want or need to.

2015 sped to a close with unusual amounts of emotional stress for me. Human, I love and forgive myself for all of my short-comings. I am grateful for the ounce of hope I hold onto every day that I will accomplish all of my goals, even when inspiration seems to wax and wane.

I'm on a journey, as my children are, as everyone is. One of my strongest qualities according to a professional personality assessment is "positivity". Remembering this helps.


Thursday, January 27, 2011

Izak's Birth Story

When Audrey was born in 1993, I went through the motions and delivered her vaginally at the hospital as most women are taught to do from a very early age. Interventions included pitocin, epidural, episiotomy, and vacuum extraction. With an epidural, after the intense pain of the needle, it only took on half of my body.  So after being totally numb on one side and enduring continually intense contractions on the other half, I allowed the anesthesiologist to try again. Thankfully, it took completely the second time. An episiotomy, I don't know the degree, but was grateful for the Sits-bath and holding my mother's hand while passing my first post-partum BM.
 
In the years later, I became licensed as a massage therapist and focused on various natural health practices. For Claire's birth, in 2004, I felt like I could manage the pain of contractions on my own. At the hospital, I asked nurses for a rocking chair and a ball to sit on during my labor, then I sang to myself and to Claire as a way to manage the pain, while the nurses laughed. My mother was present, but I really felt alone, as I had no advocate coaching me about how I could manage the labor. The pain intensified and I first tried pain medication through the IV, then caved and agreed to the epidural, which again, initially only took on half of my body.
 
The OB on call broke my water with a tool that resembled a crochet hook. I was surprised at the intensity of the pain, which worried me. (I later learned that it only was painful because he must have caught the tool on my cervix.) After full dilation and some pushing, the OB said we'd have to prep for cesarean for failure to descend. Somehow Claire was going back in after crowning. To this day I'm still not sure as to the reason for surgery, but at the time, I was in total shock. I put myself and my daughter in God's hands and trusted the medical staff. I hadn't prepared myself physically or emotionally for the possibility of a c-section. I tried hard to calm myself. As they started cutting into my skin, the doctor asked me if I could feel it. I said yes, that it felt like they were pulling the hairs of my abdomen. Then my body flinched when they started to cut deeper. Thankfully I couldn't feel intense pain, but since my body wouldn't stay still, they had to give me general anesthesia. I actually was glad, since I knew my stress wasn't healthy for myself or my baby. I woke up and bonded very nicely with my newborn daughter after a couple of hours. I layed in the hospital bed connected to an IV drip, initially for GBS. I'm not sure why it wasn't removed after surgery. After five long days, I was able to convince my OB to discharge me.
 
I decided right away during my third pregnancy that my intention was for a home birth. Actually, a month prior to Izak's conception, I saw a video on YouTube about Orgasmic Birth that I found quite beautiful. My attempts to maintain a friendship with Izak's father failed as did my attempts to find the right man.  So I settled for the idea of a gentle water birth.
 
My life was pretty chaotic during my pregnancy, not unhappy though. I moved from here to there, subletting, staying with friends for awhile, Claire's dad, then back at my mother's with Audrey. When I met Darlene, my midwife, we connected mysteriously as a good friend or kindred spirit. The day after meeting her, Audrey wanted to move back to Austin and I agreed to give it one more try. Disappointed by the idea of not having Darlene attend Izak's birth, I was happy to stay connected with her via phone and internet. After interviewing 7 midwives, I finally settled on one who allowed me to pay as I could, the full amount expected before the birth. 
 
I found a very nice place to live, renting space from a new friend in Georgetown who agreed to let me give birth in his master bathroom tub. I looked forward to a homebirth with this new midwife, her two assistants, and my two daughters present. Claire told me she wanted to help wipe the baby off, thanks Discovery Health Channel. ;) When I asked "You sure? It might be really disgusting...", my 6 year old said,  quite matter-of-factly, "Mommy, it's not disgusting. It's birth. " I asked around for opinions on this idea of Claire watching the birth and most responses were "Claire? Oh, she'll do fine. She's not like most 6 year old children. "
 
I read an article that concerned me about the potential risks of sonogram/ ultrasound technologies on a fetus, but I agreed to a 3rd one around 28 weeks gestation to confirm the health of all the baby's organs.  Audrey and Claire were with me. When the tech was attempting to determine gender, we could see something that resembled swollen labia. So the tech guessed baby girl but couldn't tell me anything for sure. I was happy with a girl or the mystery, but shook my belly to see if baby would give us a better angle. And when he did, I burst into tears of joy and disbelief. It really was my Izak that I sensed during the first few days. I started calling the baby Lucy in order not to get my hopes up! During our summertime visit, Claire's dad made me laugh when he said "He's gonna be mad if you keep calling him that."
 
Audrey decided to move back to my mother's in September. A short while later the squeeze of finances started to worry me.  I called Darlene for advice and she agreed to accept payment after Izak's birth, considering my circumstances, if I could make the move back to Houston. So I did. Initially imagining the birth at my sister's house or at a hotel, but neither panned out. My mother and I agreed to rearrange her house where I could be in the master bedroom with Claire and the baby and set up a birthing tub in the corner of the room. In early November, before rearranging the house, I applied for an apartment and was accepted. (Thanks to a personal loan from a dear friend.) I moved once again and was able to prepare for a homebirth with Darlene, my midwife and now my friend.
 
On the morning of November 17, the exact stated due date, I was browsing gentle homebirth sites and Facebook on the internet. I read on Darlene's facebook page that she had just delivered a baby around 11:30pm. I wasn't restless, just not sleepy. Then at 2:30am, I started feeling very strong contractions and woke Audrey to help me time them and clean up some clutter before I called Darlene. After an hour of strong contractions, 5 minutes apart, I called Darlene. She asked that I start timing duration and to call her back when the contraction was lasting about 60 seconds. I called her back around 4:15am. I also called my mother who lived just 5 minutes from the apartment. Darlene arrived about 4:30am and determined that I was about 8 cm dilated and effaced 80 %. Contractions were actually lasting longer than a minute... I was only considering the peak. So after a complete check up, Darlene immediately started coaching me to keep my body relaxed and not strain. Low tones of "ahhh" helped me stay focused. She massaged my arm or leg softly while kneeling beside my futon bed. This worked wonders to relax me. My mom was on the other side of the bed, holding my hand. Audrey was in and out of the bedroom. Claire was still asleep. Hazy memories for the first hour, but around 6:00am, my water broke when I squatted forward at the birth stool Darlene set up between the bed and the bathroom. There was apparently some meconium in the amniotic fluid, but Izak's vitals stayed strong every time Darlene checked. I tried to pee, but couldn't and I had to have a quick bladder catheter to drain my very full bladder. Around 7:45, Darlene helped me into the bath to try more relaxation. She asked that I have some time alone and as she came in and shut the door to the bathroom, she gently let me know that there was not much room for Izak's head to descend between my small bone structures. She said we may have to transport for cesarean section.  I kept my mind as calm as possible, imagining St. John's Hospital in Nassau Bay where Claire was born by c-section. I trusted that with Darlene's strong advocacy for my natural health choices that my baby and I would be safe at the hospital. Disappointed, yes.
 
Darlene helped me from the tub to the birthing stool where I rested and she checked on Izak. To our surprise, his head shifted slightly. Initially, Izak was facing more to the side - the largest angle of a baby's head. Now he was facing a bit more towards the back, and his vitals were still strong, Darlene said we'd try for one more hour to see if Izak would descend. I really didn't believe he would, but I trusted Darlene and followed her guidance. I kept my tones low through every contraction, full of pain. Darn the luck! I was mostly sitting on the birth stool, but then stood with Darlene, swaying side to side in slow gentle, side-to-side lunges. I remember my mother saying sweetly "That's the way - he'll be birthed by dancing!" Audrey was behind me most of the time, massaging my shoulders and my back. Claire was in and out of the room. I knew I was getting louder with the contractions, and once gently asked Claire to go out, fearing that she would be afraid of what she saw and heard from me. I really did not imagine the amount of pain I endured. She said "No, Mom. I'm fine, really." 
 
Around 8:45am, Izak's head shifted a little more. Darlene was prepared for an episiotomy if necessary, but used a lot of olive oil while pressing her hand on the back of Izak's head and on my body, pressing downward toward my tailbone allowing my tissues to stretch and be prepared for birth. As I pushed, his head slowly descended.  At one point, she asked if I wanted to feel his head. Sitting on the birthing stool, holding onto the sides of it, I said no, pretty firmly. I was determined and focused. I remember hearing myself with many loud low tones of "ahhh" and also low tone "help me Darlene" and at least one "I can't do this!" in low tone. To which Darlene and my mother responded, "You ARE doing it!"  They all kept giving me words of encouragement as I pushed. Just before Izak's birth, Audrey was sitting behind me, exhausted and feeling a bit nauseous, so she asked Claire to come stand behind me, to massage my neck and back.
 
Izak was born at home, to my utter shock and disbelief, at 8:51am. I had convinced myself it wouldn't be happening and wondered why we were waiting for the inevitable transport for c-section. I didn't believe my body could push out this baby. I was afraid I couldn't hold him, but Darlene, the strong woman and mother that she is, placed him into my arms, trusting my abilities more than I did at the time. Still sitting on the birth stool, holding my crying infant, I cried in celebration and in shock. I lost a good amount of blood, but Darlene was equipped to control it. When the placenta came out I hardly noticed. She commented about how thick and healthy the umbilical cord was and had let it pulsate while Izak was in my arms. Due to the amount of meconium present in the amniotic fluid and what Izak passed at his birthing, Darlene was prepared to deeply suction his airway. This boy of mine, caked with white vernix on his eyebrows, hollered a good deep yell, and he was able to clear his lungs on his own. I think I nursed him a little as the placenta birthed. Darlene checked on Izak as I relocated to the twin-sized futon bed. His poor head was a bit mis-shapened by the birth, but within a few hours was back to normal. I was swollen but saved by Darlene's skill and olive oil to avoid any tearing! I was amazed! My baby boy weighed 8 lbs 5 oz, and measured 21 3/4 in. We did it! At home! No drugs! And no tearing!
 
My mother appreciated how Darlene was praying during Izak's labor and birth. We all were. I knew there must have been a thousand angels present in that room... maintaining the sound barrier to the next apartment. I joked later with my sisters that I'm sure my head was spinning around like on the Exorcist. Yeah, I was pretty loud. It's equally amazing to me how much the pain decreased immediately after Izak's birth.
 
Audrey stayed home from school the day of Izak's birth and two days following. She was so helpful with Izak while I rested and actually seemed to sooth his crying more easily than I could. She asked me if my body would return to normal and not knowing what she saw, I took a photograph of the view between my legs, which I deleted moments after seeing it. I assured my 17 year old that the severe swelling would reduce. Darlene warned me that I might continue to discharge blood clots. I had planned to keep my placenta for encapsulation, but due to the amount of meconium, Darlene advised that she wouldn't keep it if it was her choice. So, I decided to let my mother and my daughters bury the placenta for me in her yard, by the bayou. We'll plant a tree or something there someday soon.

I smiled when Darlene suggested that if I ever want to have another baby, I should meet with her in very early pregnancy to start those exercises and stretches I never got around to doing.
 
I realized with Izak's birth, that every transition from birth to life or life to death comes with a mystery as to whether or not it will be a gentle, pain-free experience. God remains present and holds every one of us through each process. As Darlene so wisely offered, my experience may not have been the romantic water birth I imagined, but my daughters both have learned that an intense and challenging experience can be overcome. I realize that it was my most favorite experience of all - having both Audrey and Claire present, my mother, and a dear friend as a midwife, all very much designed by God, so beautiful in my memory.  Strange path as it was!
 
Gratitude for support and encouragement goes to my family and many friends, near and far. Xx

Monday, August 16, 2010

Finding Balance

Silently screaming as my heart explodes in agony and frustration...

The time to smile most especially is during times like these!... in order to survive the moments and regain a sense of peace and joy and love.

Stressful morning, details I will spare you. Suffice it to say, raising a teenager is much more challenging than I ever imagined.

I have always bent over backwards to make my oldest daughter, Audrey, happy... and when I remind her of this, her response is "Yeah, that's your problem." - Why this surprised me, even this morning, I'm not sure. I guess I expect her to argue that I've been too tough on her, but she freely admits that I've been too easy. I try in vain to put my foot down as "any responsible parent" will do from time to time, and Audrey's *will* remains stronger than mine. Perhaps our greatest struggle is that she wants me to win an arguement, and I just want her to be happy, so I let her win.

Makes me laugh a little as I review it in my head.

I'm reminded of a conversation I shared with a handful of moms from the church several months ago. I was hired to babysit while they had a bible lesson upstairs. Somehow, a brief discussion began about the differences of parenting styles. I may have actually started it by saying how I've always tried to be Audrey's "friend". Ideas that were exchanged included how being a friend doesn't work, but I realized from the discussion that I'm not the only parent who struggles with being firm. I was reminded that it seems true that the adult children of "friend parents" end up being more strict with their children. The adult children of more strict, authoritarian-type parents raise their kids more as friends. - Conclusion I did not say aloud as the ladies were heading to their study: kids will eventually hate their parents anyway! - I really thought being Audrey's friend would prevent this, but I was wrong. Still, I can only be the parent I am. I can learn and adapt to a degree, but I really love being a friend to my kids. So I will continue on this path, perhaps learning how to set stronger boundaries of respectful behavior - but in my view, this is the same as being a friend.

Audrey fights with me often about how I don't make my youngest daughter, Claire, listen or obey me, but I'm much better at controlling my 6 yr old's behaviour than my 16 yr old's. Any amount of reminding Audrey about how her little sister is learning a lot of disrespect from HER is quickly ignored.

I know my teen loves me. I'm sure she feels a lot of guilt for how she occasionally treats me and I don't want this. I talk her to death probably just to make sure she hears someone in the universe telling her that she is good and strong (she may have several of these positive influences, I just try to remind her, just in case she doesn't hear it enough). Coming from me, her own mother may not be the information she trusts, since "mom's are supposed to think good of their kids", but I've tried to instill the idea that I am not like most moms, so I pray she will realize my opinion is more objective.

I still see most of the moments between Audrey and me as very positive. I am proud that she wants to be independent... not sure I should be, but I see it as a positive aspect of how I've raised her... through very difficult circumstances.

Audrey has many people in her life who have told her from very early ages that I am mentally ill and need medication. Her dad's family, my family of origin, and now one adult woman she is close to. I don't know how to counter this, but I try to remind Audrey of the truth. If I am mentally ill, it's only because every human being is, in some way or other. This is what I have struggled mostly with, for the past 16 years of Audrey's life... wrestling with the idea that "if 100 people say blue, and 1 person says white, reality must dictate that it's blue". - But this is so far from reality as I *know* it.

In this society, of Big Pharma controlling everything from the airwaves to a medical doctor's sense of moral judgement, there are so many perspectives that I know don't work for *me* and my family. I don't vaccinate Claire. She is never sick. Audrey was fully vaccinated, still suffers common ailments from time to time. One example I could choose of many. No offense intended to any of my friends who choose to vaccinate or follow society's norms in other ways. I truly appreciate the love of many friends who may disagree with me about such things. I don't pass judgement for what they decide is best for their families, and they don't pass judgement against me for my choices either. This is love. Freedom to disagree.

Even still, I hear the voices of society (no I'm not schizophrenic, it's an analogy) calling me to reconsider time and again. If *everyone* thinks I'm crazy, if *everyone* thinks "it's blue", then it must be. I fight hard to avoid believing the nonsense and remind myself and my daughters that I am healthy. I remind myself that I am emotional and passionate and hormonal in this 6th month of pregnancy, and that it's really ok. I am human! I focus on the positives, I know that I am blessed - "like with me?" Claire said yesterday. "Yes, like with you in my life, sweet Claire!"

I am blessed with the positive perspective to know how to maintain my good health. Staying as happy as I can, despite life's challenges. Smiling. Eating and sleeping well. Resting when I need to. Being with my children as often as possible. Singing. Playing. Loving. Writing.

Thank you for listening.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Last day in Houston for awhile... remembering to smile!

August, in Houston, 6 months pregnant and trying to control my stresses...

Sporatic fights between my 16 and 6 yr old daughters... sporatic fights *with* my beloved daughters... trying to rest, while having to organize and re-organize for perhaps the final of many moves from my mother's house in this Houston suburb. Providing a listening ear for my sister 3 yrs older than I am has been interesting... at times, more stressful than anything else I am currently facing, but knowing or at least hoping that she is benefitting from the conversations, or my listening and non-judgemental ear makes me feel better... exhausting though, I hate to say. Trying to balance what *I* need with caring for others is always the trick.

I said "goodbye" in actions, not in words, to a man I've loved since I met him in August 2008. Claire, my youngest, and I sang to him acapella the Eva Cassidy tune "Songbird"... and I have fantasized more than once, and dared him to let me sing it for him before one of his gigs... it hasn't happened yet, and I'm not sure it ever will. I'm at peace with this mystery, or if I will ever enjoy precious moments with this man again. He touched my soul like no other man has... and I wanted him, oh how I wanted what we shared to be real and long-lasting. I feel like our love for one another was real, but our expressions and communication differences were so confusing for one another, more frustration remained than any cozy feelings. I assume due to our distances, indeed since August 2008, his comfort level with seeing me was about once a week. I really needed him at least a little every day, but I tried to accept what he offered. The moments we shared were spectacular, most of the time... perhaps the silences and moments apart were just unbearable for me. I've tried to walk away time and again, indeed traveling to Hawaii after he extended a trip to Australia from 3 weeks to much longer... I don't remember exactly how long he was there, but we both returned to Austin in March and I learned I was pregnant with another man's child. Our relationship was never a solid committment, and so I feel no shame for this... only a bit of sadness that the man I loved did not love me enough to stomache the idea of raising another man's child. I was surprised since he seemed to love Claire so much, and even told Audrey, my teen, that she could talk to him anytime, about anything. But, I accepted his discomfort and tried to stay away... tried to stop hoping that his heart would change and he would be strong enough to love me and this unborn child. - I allowed a recent frustration to be the catalyst for my choosing to stay away. He happened to be traveling through my mom's small town and after proposing a "maybe" to meet, he apologized days later for missing us... even seeming to ignore the sweet voice message Claire left for him. I blocked him from seeing my facebook page and wrote a blog there titled "Sadness replaces love... for now". - The frustration included that he didn't tell me he was dating someone else... I learned from a third party. Indeed, when I called and texted to congratulate him or confirm the information, he refused to respond, as well *she*, an acquaintance of mine, refused to respond to my email of good wishes. - I guess I expected more of what I consider respect from them both.

And so, I decided to stop hoping... to prevent myself from hoping that this man will be different than he is. I sincerely wish him the best that life and love offers, and if has found it with her, I am happy!... I know the level of depth I offered him, and will offer any relationship, and so I am disappointed for what might have been. He still makes me feel like a school-girl! Indeed, the last time we met in person, I could hardly contain my excitement about my growing belly and a song Claire recorded on my iPhone that I let this man listen to before we parted ways. He doesn't intend to feed my hope for him with his sentiments of "Darlin" and "much love", but he does feed it. So, I feel the need to stop reaching out to him, and also, to stop responding when he reaches out to me. I've ignored 3 calls and 2 texts since making this decision... and strangely, it feels good to have the control. Please don't misunderstand me. It's not anything about hurting him, and if this has occurred, I am sorry about it. It's about controlling *myself* and my emotions when it comes to him, or rather, my idea of who he is and who I want so much for him to be in my life. I must get through these coming months without hoping that he will "ride to me on the white horse" and be there for me and my newborn, and Claire (Audrey's off with her friends most of the time, so ready for adulthood). I wanted to have this man's child... and we tried without success. Everything happens for a reason, this I know... and so God has allowed me to be in this place, once again pregnant and alone. Stronger and more capable than ever... just a little disappointed that I am not sharing these beautiful moments with a wonderful man. So, I share them with my daughters, and that makes me smile. :)

Back to organizing, loading or at least supervising the loading of our 8 beautiful rubber-maid boxes into my small SUV, and to finish cleaning the two rooms at my mother's so she will be surprised and not have to think about my belongings when she returns from a mission trip to Albania in a week.

I look forward to returning to Austin, where I have found so much more peace than in Houston and in this small suburb, in this house... beautiful to me still, despite the lack of maintenance and sadness in the walls - I can't seem to shake any of the memories, mostly not so great... perhaps I want to remember so that I know what not to repeat. Many, many lessons I have learned the hard way from a family I sense never learned how to really love. I am learning how to love from my children, as I try with every breath to show them how much love I have for them.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Plans Always Seem to Change... Roll with It!

So, approximately a month after the date of my last blog post at the end of January, I conceived my third child.

Woooohooooooooo! :o)

Totally changes my perspective on the year and on certain plans I had for my family of 3 (Audrey, 16, Claire, 6 and myself). Perhaps "ideas" would be a better word choice, I don't usually make plans. The ideas always have something to do with "when I have the money...":

I'd love to bring Claire to DisneyWorld/ Land while she's young enough to really appreciate the magic of it all. I brought Audrey when she was nearly 10 (I was married to Claire's dad at the time, and I think she was conceived while we were in Florida!), and apparently Audrey had a lot of fun. She'll be 17 years old on September 17th this year, and as a "big" or "special" birthday, we've been discussing possibilities of a trip to New York City or somewhere else extravagant for several years.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some regret for what I do not provide for my children in the way of luxuries and ideally, vacations. When I reflect on the TIME I choose to spend with both my girls, as much as possible, I am secure in the choice I have made for myself and for them. I actually cannot stand to be away from my children for very long... and I see this as very normal, and very healthy, for ME. Indeed, I am healthy enough to remind myself that in time, my children will need more and more time to themselves and eventually move out and possibly live far away from me. Maintaining the strong bonds with my children has been my strongest prayer; not something I take for granted, and I feel very lucky that somehow we all really enjoy and respect one another, at a core level (we share superficial frustrations with one another). I can't say that I have many regrets, even for when I've made mistakes, since I learn quickly from them in order to grow as an individual, as a mother and in order for my children to grow emotionally strong enough to manage anything they may have to face with or without me.

So, I splurged on myself early in the year and took a two week trip to Hawaii. There was a possibility that I'd be meeting someone I met online, someone with whom I thought I shared a lot of core spiritual beliefs, but there was no guarantee. It was certainly "a wild hair", but I knew Hawaii would provide a beautiful getaway so I could refresh from certain stresses in my life at the time.

I connected quickly and closely with the father of my, as of yet, unborn child. We shared very few, magical moments, before quite mysteriously, he wanted distance. I accepted that we would not share a longer romantic relationship, and I was hoping for a friendship, especially after learning that I was pregnant. So far, since I left Hawaii in early March, my efforts to maintain the connection have been ignored.

Not how I planned to have another child... but I've been the single parent for Audrey and Claire since being pregnant with them both. I know I can handle it. It's just not what I wanted...

There is a sadness that I feel just now about this... quite subtle though. I only cried once about my situation, not in regret, but perhaps in surprise and knowing the challenges I'd be facing. That was in early April, I think... while lying in the bathtub, early morning... Claire was still asleep. Since that time, I tried very hard to make ends meet in Austin, without success.

I'm still struggling to figure it all out, knowing that Spirit/ God will guide my path. I am actually ok with being a bit blind to the specifics of my future, while knowing that God allows me to choose what I want. I've been a little tired and enjoying a bit of rest at my mother's in the Houston area before Claire and I move on, most likely to Taos, New Mexico. Audrey has chosen to stay at my mother's and finish highschool with and near many of her friends. - Travelling and experiencing life in other parts of this country and around the world is vital for me. This I know, and I am excited about how I will co-Create to make this happen.

I chuckle a bit at my undying sense of creativity - despite the challenges of being a single mother for Claire and the child we are expecting. I know, without a doubt!, that our lives will be full of joy and simple adventures. Peace is something I pray for as well. <3

Friday, January 22, 2010

Trusting God's Skill as Design Engineer

I was watching a Discovery Health show about birth with Audrey this morning, just a brief scene that caught our attention... a woman in an operating room, preparing for a cesarean delivery... The epidural was unsuccessful, so the woman was given anesthesia to sleep while they delivered her baby. I guess partly my attention was drawn because the drugs I received before Claire's emergency c-section didn't work for me, so I was put under. I felt so much internal, mental shock from the experience, I was glad for the break! (indeed, the natural health sides of my personality are kicking this one that accepted what happened and somehow trusted the process)

As Audrey and I watched the show, we were astonished at how long the delivery took. The voice over was saying that the baby was delivered breech, the cord was wrapped around his neck, and they were nicely surprised at how quickly he let out a big healthy cry.

I cried watching this birth. Not the usual tears of joy that fill my eyes at the miracle of birth, but because after so many years of watching shows like this I suddenly realized how painful birth MUST be for babies. - Surely, I've considered the idea before, but I couldn't remember. Audrey mentioned her assumption that babies cry at birth because the environment is so different than the cozy womb. I explained to her that a baby seems to endure intense pushing and squeezing in every area of his/her body, and that I am surprised at how many of us survived it! Audrey suggested that perhaps c-section would be less painful for the baby, and I agreed, but that birth should normally be a natural process.

A Spiritual thinker, it made me wonder about God's design of the human being. In my view, we come into this new world experiencing intense pain. Moments later, hopefully we are feeling a similar coziness of our former environment, laying in the fetal position, held by someone who loves us.

I have made no secret to those close to me that I would love to give birth to at least one more child. Yes, I feel selfish and unworthy, but it has remained a desire since I was pregnant with Claire, separated from her father and praying for the right man to enter my life.

After watching this show, I was filled with certain new ideas that if birth is so painful for the child, why should anymore be born? - Crazy, right? No, I am not jumping on board with the eugenics or anyone advocating population control (no offense to friends who may think along these lines - I don't know who you are, by the way.) - Instead, I turned spiritual, trusting God as Our Creator, to have known better than I, the reasons why birth must be painful.

I certainly could hear in my mind the notions of "Life is pain", "Life isn't fair", and others. I also understood the metaphors as worthy... if it's not a challenge, it's not usually attractive. Pain is always educational, and from this learning we can grow. So, I concluded that it was ok with me that God designed us to first experience pain, and then love. - Of course, the growing fetus can experience our physical loving even before birth, so my final conclusion is that birth is just part of the process that begins with Love, which is God.

As I was writing this note, I was trying to remember what comedians I've heard joking about the horrendous process of birth and so off to youtube I went. I was guided (thanks God!;) ) to a totally different video, one I've seen on a friend's page in months past, but I hadn't before now taken the time to really pay attention and actually watch the entire clip: it was an ABC interview about "orgasmic birth". The idea is still fresh for me, and I can understand how at first it may be offensive for some. I watched and listened with an open mind to understand better and ended up thanking God again, for how magically our female bodies are formed. Orgasm is possible during birth since the exact organs are being touched by the baby that are being touched during sexual intercourse. This occurred to me as a "Wow - I never thought of that before" and then "Duh". I was caught by tears of joy and praise for the loving husbands who kissed and massaged their wives during the process of labor.

Pain is perception. Medical experts usually use the term "uncomfortable", and we all can laugh. What I love learning about natural health is the idea of transforming our sensations of pain into something bearable, indeed even pleasurable, as an orgasmic birth is for many women.

Emotional pain can also be transformed by the spark of inspiration. I woke to an idea one night, several years ago, that everything is good, because what we consider to be bad always presents an opportunity for learning, growing or shifting our direction.

I look forward to more learning and practicing and eventually teaching yoga to others, as I find this a very healing artform for the human body, whether in a group or when we are alone. Breathing, stretching, massaging our own skin is so very important, and something I neglect too often.

If I am blessed with another pregnancy, I will remain aware of the spiritual connection I share with the life coming through me. As well, I will pray that the process of birth is not too painful for either of us. Being in the place of prayer always connects us to peace and God's love - which heals all wounds.

Namaste' my sweet friends.