your loves the warmest place the sun ever shines

My belly is bounding, my breasts are swollen, my feet are sore and my mind is tired. Sharing my body with another heart, another breath, another life. The presence of life, a constant reminder of what is and what is to come. I lay awake with him (call it wishful thinking...) as he moves about, let's me know he is there, he is coming. There is not a moment that passes that is my own, that I do not share with another life. Here we lay, as one - breathing in and out, heartbeats pounding together. The anticipation for the changes he will bring us is so great and so powerful, it brings me to tears. He brings a smile to your face I've never seen come across those beautiful lips of yours - I hope he has your lips. It feels like such a mystery to me, like I've not done this before. It feels new, and intrigues me in ways I don't know how to explain. And I suppose, in some ways I haven't ever done this before - for I have never made a life with you. I've never been pregnant with a third child, and I've certainly never anxiously anticipated a life so greatly as this. I am still learning, and there is much left to the journey. I yearn for a greater understanding of who I am, who you are - who we make together. So much time to know, to learn and understand. I am only now understanding what making a human life out of love is really like. That's something else that I've never done. So here's to the life we have not yet entered - to a life we will live for the rest of our lives.

what kind of scale compares the weight of two beauties?

I had a dream that I was missing my hands. I didn't seem bothered by this unfortunate event, and went about my day-to-day life, struggling all the way. I kept finding myself in situations where I would need hands - and so I would be rendered helpless and defeated. It was constant, over and over I would come upon a task and be left to sit and watch and feel like a failure. I had no control, no power - nothing. When I woke up, I realized this is something I very rarely let happen. If I start to loose control, I dominate the situation so that anyone else trying to help me is left defeated and helpless instead. I realized sometimes these hands probably do more harm than good, and maybe that's why I didn't have hands. It was my minds way of saying "hey, Katie, how about you let go for a little and let someone else take the wheel?" - a subconscious wake up call, so to speak.

There will always be someone who will worry about me, always someone to sit anxiously as I tell my story or explain my mind. I would like everyone to stop worrying, stop biting their nails about my actions and decisions - stop second guessing every step I make. What I need from humanity at this point are brains as vast and complex as mine - or at least brains that are willing to accept that's the way mine functions. I like to re-think my every step, and I like to be sure. I'm more than aware that a lot of people don't think like this - but for once it would be nice to be accepted for the way I am instead of being expected to fit some kind of mold of how I should be doing things. If it wasn't working, I'd welcome the concern and worry and anxiousness. I would like some trust from the world in letting me decide when it was or wasn't working. I would like some support for the system I've got going, and a little recognition for what I do to keep it functioning. That's all, just a little support - just a little understanding - just a little respect.

stick with what you know

When your stuck in a way of thinking and dealing - it is extremely hard to take a positive turn, and change your groove. However, it's not impossible and once you start it's generally smooth sailing. The rocky bit is admitting the changes need to be made, and turning the boat around. And when your sharing the wheel of the ship, and your both trying to turn the boat in separate directions, what is to come? This is by far the biggest struggle of turning your habits around, for when a wall has supports it's a lot harder to knock it down. When someone is {seemingly} unwilling to go with the ebb and flow of your changes, where do you go from there? I think finding yourself in the chaos of you interactions with everyone else (especially once you have kids, who take up about 90% of your brain) takes a lot of work.. and sometimes I have a hard time believing it is worth the effort. Now, don't get me wrong - I am the last person to conform.. but when your left in the mess of a change that is not changing.. it feels easier to just give in, and stick with what you know.

birthin ain't for the weak o' hearts

It was a Friday evening, and I can remember how sure I was. It was 4 days past the expected due date, so at this point I knew that once the pain started it was time for work. I crawled into bed, and tried my hardest to push the butterflies from my stomach and the anxiety from my head. Easier said than done, when you know your only hours away from meeting the human you have created, and whom has been growing inside you for 9 months. I managed to get a few hours of rest, but around 1am - I was woken by the intensity of what was only the beginning of my pain. My mum ran me a bath, lit some candle's and hushed me through my contractions. I wonder what women do without their mums at their side, to do these things. This went on throughout the night - restless sleep, bath's and hushing. Somewhere inside of me, I knew I was in for a long haul and tried my best to be patient(again, easier said than done..)Someone called the midwives, and someone called my doula, and someone called Laurel. I had a scheduled stretch and sweep that afternoon at the hospital, and I can remember my mum arguing with the midwives when they insisted I still make the appointment. When they accepted that I was not making the appointment and that I was indeed in early labor (oh, how early it really was...) Lillian came over to check me over as my midwives we're still attending another birth. Lindsey arrived shortly there after, and began her work of massaging and caressing my swollen and tired body. I tried to eat, it came back up. I tried to rest, but the pain kept me awake. I took lots of baths, and walked as often as I could - but I seem to remember just wanting it "to all be over". My sister was in her room, "dieing" because she was so sick. She had a really awful cold, so she couldn't be a part like she had wanted to be. My dad hid out downstairs in the basement, and now looking back - I can only imagine the anxious pacing that must have taken place. Mum stayed by my side, the whole time. By 6pm it had already been 21 hours of labor - and I was so tired, I remember feeling like my body just couldn't take it any longer. The midwives eventually coaxed me into breaking my water, because transition was just not coming on it's own. That's when the contractions became a whole new level of intense. I remember looking around me, and wondering how my surroundings became so clean and organized (oh, the power of a mother's presence). I moved my body to the living room, and sat on the birthing stool for a awhile, at which time the urge to push became much stronger. Lindsey kept telling me to moan, roar and concentrate "be the momma bear, let her out" ... I can hear her saying that to me. After about 15 minutes of pushing on the stool, I positioned myself on the futon - and surrender to the place reserved inside of me for birthing. I would come in and out of contractions - and in between, no one else was around me.. I was in my own world, breathing and talking to Emma - telling her to come, I was ready for her - and to find her way through the tunnel. At one point, when in the middle of pushing my dad had come upstairs to check out the scene - only to come face to face with my laid out body and a disgruntled look on my face. He matched my expression, which made me laugh - he looked like he had just taken a bite of a rotten lemon. 45 minute's of pushing later (and 26 hours of laboring later) Emma's head emerged. My mom guided my hand down, to feel her - and I childishly squirmed. I'd never felt that before, it shocked me - her skin was wrinkled from being squished by the birth canal. One more contraction, and one great big push - and there she was, beautiful and blood covered Emma Susan. Born at 10:44 pm, weighing 8lbs on the dot. I wanted to cry, I wanted to laugh, I wanted to scream. It was the most overwhelming, exciting and exhilarating feeling I had ever experienced... and to this day, it was the most intense moment of my whole life. I had done it, we had done it - together. This was the birth of Emma, and the birth of me, into motherhood.

June 23rd, 2010

Just for a moment - one moment, let's not wear the weight of our life. Let's smile at each other, embrace the journey and accept the consequences of our ignorance to the time continuing on without us. Your brown eyes capture all of me and I fall in too deep - encased in you. The road is long and grueling and very often frightening. So just for a moment lets close our eyes and take a deep breath - let the music and road take us away. Sometimes, I love you so much it scares me. Sometimes, I need you so bad it hurts. Sometimes the road will just take us away.

I love you.


*road trip journalism*

you can sit beside me.

We all spend so much time looking for something else, the next big thing. Wandering around - looking at the greener grass, and hoping for a bridge to appear. Not everyone, of course - but the greater half of us (as I see it) are wanting. We find way's to fulfill us temporarily - but it's not enough. At what point do we finally stop, look around and say to ourselves "this, this is good enough". At what point are we going to stop searching for some kind of resolution to everything and just accept things as they are? When will we learn to adapt to fit what we desire? Is it so much to ask to just be content for a little while? I watch the people come and go - and we pay for the longing in so many ways... whether it be with our debit cards or our hearts, there is always a price. What is too much? How much are you willing to pay for the greener lawn? What's so good about green grass anyway? In the end, it's just a weed. I know that nothing and no one is perfect - and I know that there will always be something more to aspire to... something more to create, and imagine. I just wonder when we will stop bleeding for something we already have standing in front of us?

Positive Affirmations:

You are a good mother, daughter and sister.
You are a good friend.
You are a genuine human being.
You are loved.
You are appreciated.
You have wonderful daughters, a wonderful family.
It is *not* always your fault.
You can't control the universe; but you can lead the troops.
Your smile is beautiful, and contagious.
You have a beautiful soul.
The road will always have ills - but there is always a decline, after the climb.
Frowning gives you wrinkles.
Laugh lines gives you character.
This is not the end of the journey, keep moving forward - look for the light.

bruised and battered

Pattern's tell you everything you need to know about someone. Pattern's can go as far as to tell you what will come in your future, what you will endure and face in a relationship (or as an individual). What I have come to realize is that admitting too and accepting our patterns is a difficult process. It requires us to put it all on the table and examine our faults, habits and insecurities. From experience, I can tell you it is more than pulling teeth to even get myself to go through this process - let alone trying to get someone else to do it as well. This is where trust and honesty come in to play. Without those two vital organs of a relationship, you've basically got an empty carcass of a relationship that will inevitably crash and burn. So when you begin to evaluate your patterns, you may come to find a lot of ugly things about someone you love - or even harder, yourself. It's a very big job - and I think we all want to believe love shouldn't be work. I don't believe it though, I think everything in life takes work. Anything you care about, anything you want from life - is going to take work, dedication, and time. It's whether or not the time is available, the dedication is strong and the work ethic is present. If we live through it, and we come out at the end of the tunnel with a lesson learned and a fresh perspective - we will concur all, and never look back. Or maybe - maybe the truth's been told.. maybe we have gone as far as we can, and there is nothing to say. There's only one way to find out - and like it's been stated... a lot of work is ahead.

she says he says

I want to understand, really I do. I just get so lost in the hypocrisy that it feels nearly impossible to find any kind of sense in it all. Role's reversed (which they have been) I would "be in the dog house" ...so-to-speak. All hell would break loose, and it would be an ongoing battle for a few days. So when you get up and do the exact same thing, why is it wrong of me to be upset? Why is it expected of me to sit here, compliant and accepting when the same favor can not be returned? I just can't wrap my head around it. I go, it's wrong. I stay, and feel trapped, it's wrong. You go, it's fine. You stay, it's fine. Well what I want to understand is how did it become so unbalanced? Is the same respect not supposed to be given to each parties? Are the same rules not to apply? I go out, during the day - when your not home... and it's an argument. You go out, at night - when I am home... and I am expected to sit pretty and smile? Expectations are growing a bit thick, and it's suffocating. Maybe a clearer road, a set out list of expectations, a rule of thumb perhaps? I would just like to be given the respect of a common ground, and a mutual respect.

lost

The leaves are changing color, and it's only getting colder.

I feel like we missed something, skipped out on something important. I am haunted by broken plans, childish dreams, hopeful new love. I can't say I'm not to blame for that, can't say anyone is to blame though either. Life get's in the way of our plans, robs us of time, and holds our dreams captive. It doesn't stop me from wanting to fly, go somewhere no one can find us and start something new. Wanting, wishing, waiting. Wasted time.

I gave away my innocence, gave away my sanity - and stood there feeling helpless and stupid. It's taken me a long time to be comfortable with the choices I have made - the path I have taken - the life I have created. It's taken a long time to accept that I am not alone in this, that everything will be okay. It's taken a long time for me to understand that everything takes time.

But it's getting cold, and I feel like we lost something along the way

leaving the rest behind

"To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer. To suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy then is to suffer. But suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness. I hope you're getting this down."
- Woody Allen

I have learned that being in love - real, true, hard love does take a lot of work. It takes suffering, and sacrifice and compromise. It also takes compassion, and compromise - and in turn, love brings many things. I've seen love in many forms - watched it burn in it's glory. I've also watched it crash down, after too much heat - and a lot of neglect and impatience. The thing about fire is it needs to be tamed to some extent, otherwise it burns the whole city down. I've watched love like that, I've even felt it. Love also seems to take many forms, and although the core of it remains - the outer shells will mold and form as you do. Love is made to bend and curve and curl - and real love is constructed to take a lot of abuse. I remember being a child and having the illusion that once "true love" was found, it was unbreakable. I believed that love meant happiness, joy and excitement - all the time. I believed that it was impenetrable, and that no matter what - true love stayed. I also remember being old enough to finally understand the falsity in such beliefs. It took trial and error, heart break, abuse and defeat before I could embrace all those things and really let myself go. Giving up possession of your heart is a really hard thing to do, and sometimes I still try and take it back (we'll blame that on my need to control). When it's all said and done though, when I am done my day and I am laying in my bed next to you - I am humbly amazed at how worth it this is. It's worth the compromising, and the arguments, the disagreements and the sacrifice. It's worth everything we endure, because I am enduring it with you.

"Love sets fire to your schedule, and then calls an end to time" Ani

nothing to say, go figure.

maybe

It is a very common practice to adapt to expectation. Someone does the dishes every day, every week, and never fails - you begin to just expect it to be done by that person. If one person takes on the responsibility of mending to rips and tares, patching the holes and starting the reno's in the first place - time and time again, someone else in that house will just grow to expect that it is that person who will continue to do the work (unless of course, it is verbally requested they are lent a hand..) It is also grown to be an expectation that the act of verbalizing ones thoughts and opinions will always take action first and foremost if that is what generally happens. If I were to always say when I was upset, or angry, or sad, or happy and express why without hesitation - the person on the receiving end of said verbalization would grow to expect that they would not have to take any part in the process. They would grow to assume that I would just say it, without taking time for quiet observation. After all, if that is the norm, it is now an expectation right? Well what happens when I don't feel like doing the dishes, and I don't feel like starting the renos - and I don't FEEL like being verbal with my feelings. One thing I have learned is that if you grow to expect anything, you've grown to comfortable and you need to throw some cold water in your face. Always expect the unexpected - and own up to the responsibility of taking action where someone else may have left off.

And maybe, I like my privacy. Maybe I like having a special place I can go where I won't be ridiculed for my opinions and thoughts. Where there are other people who understand, who have compassion and are willing to listen without some kind of reserved judgment. Maybe I hold on to that with a death grip, and won't share it because it's all I've got to make me feel like my opinions and thoughts are important on certain topics. Maybe, it should be understood that everyone has their own spot - like midnight visits on the deck, with no word being said.

Maybe I'd like some companionship that comes without frustration and opinions. Maybe I would like someone to sit at my side, and try to understand without judging and assuming first. Maybe I'm asking too much.

I hold hands with my trust.

I trust my body. I trust it more than my thoughts, as it has always done for me what I required it to do. It has amazed me with it's strength and endurance - captivated me with it's ability to reproduce human life, nourish that life and make it grow. It then goes on to produce food for said life, and sustain it's production so that the life can flourish. It goes through hell and back every changing season - it guide's me through every menstrual cycle, every cold, every infection. I trust my body to do what it needs to do - I trust it to function the way it was intended to function, and help me to work through anything I might experience. With that trust, I believe in it's ability to give birth without intervention or trauma. I trust it to tell me when something is wrong, and help me through that scenario in a way that will see me and my child through. I understand not every circumstance can be predicted, and sometimes intervention is a necessity. I also understand that my body was built to birth, it was built to nurse - and it was built for motherhood. Call it destiny, or fate - I call it my way. This is also why I birth at home - where I am comfortable, where I feel safe - where my body can function without anxiety and fear. I was told I was brave today (for the hundredth time) to birth at home, to trust my body that way. "Anything could go wrong" they said - and they are right, anything could. Whether I am in a hospital or I am in my home, that something is going to go wrong either way. I trust my body to tell me if and when I need to change what I am doing. I also trust the people around me to be alert to these changes, because after all this is what they are trained to do. I am so tired of it being looked at as some kind of nobility, as some kind of heroism on my part. I am also tired of it being viewed as dangerous or risky - it is no more dangerous and no more noble than any other women doing exactly what her body was designed to do ... I am giving birth, bringing life into the world - whether I choose to do that in the comfort of my own bedroom (or bathroom, or kitchen, or back yard har har) it doesn't change the process or the outcome. Birthing is birthing, it's that simple.