The Celebrating Soul

Telling My Son’s Birth Story

On August 2nd, I gave birth to our son, Shasta. The entire experience was so beautiful and filled with healing. My body–with a decade of pain, grief, and struggling–was invited into something wonderful and breathtaking. This body–the one I’ve wrestled with and grieved for–became a vessel for giving birth to a living, breathing soul. Giving birth is far less about my strength and stamina as a woman, and more about receiving the otherworldly, stunning gift of childbirth. I can’t believe it’s part of my story.

But there it was.

And here I am.

While I write this our little boy is intermittently making all sorts of sounds from the bedroom. He’s so much fun. Giving birth was profound and beautiful and healing, but I think most of this post will be peppered with humor. And I love that too. This photo was taken August 1st while I was in early labor. It would take many more hours for my son to make his grand appearance. And yes, bathroom selfies are the least classy of all millennial photographic skills, but here we are. 🙂

So, let’s rewind.

To be frank, I didn’t think I’d go into labor on my own. It seems as though so many years of chronic pain has oft given me the underlying feeling of “failure” and a sense of just not trusting my body to “work.” Of course, I don’t consciously live under that assumption (I’ve gained a lot of freedom + confidence over the years!), but when push comes to shove and the hormones rage ( 🙂 ), and your body is actually preparing itself for childbirth, some of those underlying things you STILL need to work through explode to the surface and you MIGHT just end up crying profusely in the car on the way to the grocery store. It could happen. It’s a strong possibility. 🙂 HA! Continue reading “Telling My Son’s Birth Story”

Poetry

Inspired by My Son

Today, I celebrate motherhood with a short poem inspired by my son. It will be well into summer before he’s earth-side, but I’ve already begun to treasure each day he’s loudly in my life! And this kid is loud. Be it morning sickness or happy kicks. 🙂

I love sharing big stories with as few lines as possible, so here’s five lines about how I found out I was pregnant with our summer baby. I hope this poem brings up some happy memories for you.

Happy Mother’s Day.


 

 

Poetry

On Motherhood & Miscarriage

Last Sunday was Bereaved Mother’s Day. It’s not a fun day, but it is an important one. With this poem, I want to honor the mothers who have or are experiencing the worst kind of pain to be found in motherhood.

If you have endured the ache and grief of miscarriage, I would love to know the name of your baby.  Share with me in the comments if you feel able to. I sincerely hope these words give voice to the pain you have experienced. You matter.  Your baby matters. You both are seen.