This is what three looks like!

 

A, originally uploaded by kimboburly.

When my kids have a birthday, I tell them their story: of how they came to this life, and what it was like to be born.

There is a sameness about birth stories – it is the fact that a whole other person comes from the body of a mother.  At the birth of a child, mothers have the ability to fully experience the otherworldliness of Creation.

To start this story, I must begin with a little jaunt into the past…

After the older two were born I experienced something called “secondary infertility.”  For seven long years Mister The Mister and I tried having more kids.  It was rough on both of us, especially with my emotional ups and downs, and over a long night of discussion we both decided it was time to just let go of having more kids.

After our talk, we both went out to look at the stars.  As I’m standing there on the back porch I hear something making noise on the swing.  Thinking it was a cat, I kept looking up into the sky – marveling at the beauty of the stars.

The noise happened again, and at that point I had to choice but to pay attention to it.  As I walk over to see what is going on, I heard a voice say, “You are going to have more kids.  A boy – and very shortly after that – a girl.”

Ha! That must’ve been a great glass of wine I just finished, because it sounded like a voice was coming from the porch swing – telling me that I was going to have more kids.  Well, okay then, disembodied voice from the porch swing…

I walked inside to tell Mister The Mister about the experience.  He nodded, in the way that he does, and said, “Okay.  Sounds good.”

Not long after that I was pregnant with our only son, Mr. I.

And not long after that, I was pregnant with Miss A, Half-Elven – Faery Princess Girl.

(that porch swing voice was right…)

We had someone staying at our farm through the WWOOF program – who is now a dear friend – and I’d been talking about how I was “so done” with having kids.  Three kids is a lot, and chasing after my son was a lot of work…not to mention the two, 9-year-old twins.  My life was rich with blessings.  Three was a good number.

The next day we had to drive into the city for some supplies and such.  As I was pulling out of the driveway, I ran into her truck.  My mind was all fuddled up for some reason.  And, as I told everyone, I felt like I was getting a cold.  My dreams had become extra vivid, so I wasn’t sleeping well.  All of these things were good excuses for why I ran into a big white truck.

Then it dawned on me.  I was four days late in my cycle.

We stopped at a drugstore on the way into the city.  Once we got into town we stopped to eat at CiCi’s pizza.  I had to go to the bathroom.  The test went with me. The results were…

I was pregnant.

After telling the kids and our friend, I called my Mother In Law.  I was crying, and most likely I was making no sense what-so-ever.  Through my tears I said, “Granny…do you think I can be a mom to four kids?”  Without missing a beat she said, “Oh, honey, you are going to do a fine job.”

I had all these plans for the birth.  I wanted to try for a VBAC after 2 c-sections.  The doctor I found was great, and really worked with me during my pregnancy.  The older two helped quite a bit, and spent time playing with Mr. I while I rested.

The dreams I had with this one – WOW!  Every night there was some kind of deep and meaningful dream.  She moved and wiggled and moved and pushed and moved and danced in the womb.  Clearly there were things she needed to do…

A week before my due date I went in for my last ultrasound and exam.  My body was being cranky, and Miss A’s home was running out of space.  On top of that, she was running out of fluid to sustain her.  The doc was great and said he would wait as long as I needed, but that the longer we waited, the more dangerous for her it would be.

With this new knowing, I got into my car, turned on some Lisa Thiel, and drove home.  By the time I got into the driveway I knew that what the doc had said was true, and I called his office to schedule the appointment.  However, I had one caveat…I didn’t want it to be routine and like clockwork.  If possible, I wanted to let things go on their own, not rushing to “get the job done.”

Very early on January 10th Mister The Mister drove me to the hospital.  I got signed in and was wheeled to the pre-op room.  I had my birthing bag (trinkets for Miss A when she was born) and my prayer beads.  During the prepping procedure I chanted the Green Tara Mantra,  and sang the Lisa Thiel version of the Acchi Mantra as I held my hands on my abdomen.  The nurse assigned to me for the morning was wonderful, and if Angels incarnate on Earth, she is one of them.  She did the role of a midwife and embodied the spirit of all Mothers.

The rest is sort of a blur of readiness…but she did come on her own time, as the doc was held up.  With prayer beads in hand, I was readied for her arrival.  Other than the standard OR procedure of having a c-section, I can remember hearing one of the attending physicians tell me that I had a nice smile.

Moments later a long, strong and very vocal little girl appeared into this wild and beautiful world.  ”SHE IS BORN!” I remember thinking (and I may have said it out loud, too). Bucking procedure, I was able to let her lay on my chest as they finished stitching me up.

She smelled so beautiful, and was just fully of so much hope and joy.  She wiggled a lot, and looked at every little thing around her.  Both of us came out of the OR and into recovery.  She got a little bath (she hated it), and then I nursed her (she loved it).  Together we sat in each other’s presence…just being.

With every birth a mother’s life changes.  Each child is different, and brings a whole new perspective to the world.  And, whether we like it or not, they teach us things.

Miss A started her lessons at day 3 with high bili levels. The minute we got home, there was a call from the pediatrician’s office to bring her back to the hospital. We spent a night there, under these garish lights, with hourly interventions.

Thankfully her levels lowered enough for me to get her home again, but she was not out of “hot water” yet.  Her levels spiked again, and she stopped nursing.  She didn’t want to be held in a sling, or comforted with skin to skin contact.  If I didn’t hold her a certain way, she would cry and wail.  It was also a bit interesting that she seemed so aware.

Then came thrush, which was about all she could handle, and we switched to a bottle – which she didn’t like either.  She still had high bili levels almost two weeks later, and my milk had stopped coming in.  Time for plan Q (yes, we were up to Q at that point)!

We switched to formula, but she still wouldn’t take a bottle.  She didn’t like the feel of it.  She did, however, enjoy milk (something she still loves to this day! *grin*). After a month of working with getting her fed, which almost got her a bit “failure to thrive” sticker on her medical records, we finally found something that worked for all of us…and Miss A started her Journey with a brand new medicine bag.

(okay, it took me forever to type this…I had to keep blowing my nose and wiping my eyes)

So today, Miss A, I raise my coffee cup to you, and celebrate all that you are.  You walk in Beauty, and follow the Beauty Way.  Every situation that Life has brought to you is just another pebble for your pack, and you handle the World with grace.

Thank you for picking me to be your mommy.  It is an honor to be on your Team.

Happy Birthday Miss A!!!!!!!!!

I claim full responsibility for all typos and odd-ball grammar…writing with tears streaming down your face is hard work! *grin*