Posts tagged motherhood
Herstory: The Night I Met Lucas

Friday, September 15th, 2017: 6:45 AM

39 weeks 5 days

This isn’t a drill

It’s been about a week since we’ve arrived in Dallas to stay with Wil’s aunt and uncle, waiting for Hurricane Irma’s rage to calm and the storm to pass.

Wil wakes me up to have breakfast and start getting ready so we can pack the cars and begin our drive back home to FL. I struggle to keep my eyes open and fall in and out of sleep as I try to rise. But it doesn’t take long for my focus to shift as I start feeling concentrated tension in my center (before I’ve even attempted to rise from my stack of 6 pillows). As they continue to return every few minutes, I agree to let Wil time them with my contraction tracker app. Though he didn’t seem too convinced there was a pattern, I’m convinced he was too tired to see the consistency when they first began.

Although my contractions were coming at 5 minutes apart, Wil didn’t seem to notice a pattern since the duration of each varied.  He thought it was a “false” start. But I could feel it wasn’t.

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Someone's Mother

The First Revolution

My heart is light with love and excitement, but I notice an occasional quiver in my breath. I takes nothing less than 110% of my effort to stay in the present, but still I often fail and find my thoughts far beyond me, romanticizing the beginning and imagining what's yet to come. It feels like witnessing the explosive creation of our Universe and then watching the phenomenon of time and space unfold-- knowing that with the passing of generations, the sky and universe expand and the brilliant stars that were once so close slip further into the distance. 

We stand at a precipice between the flood of the emotional life transformation marked by infancy and the quickly flowing river of time ready to carry us into the season of toddler-hood. Today marks little Luke's first solar return. His first birthday. A celebration of spirit, life, and growth. It also marks my birth day. A deifying wrinkle in time defined by the molting of my maiden identity, cathartic purification, and the admonition that life is fleeting.

Time flies, but we are rightly reminded that though the days feel like years, sooner than later the years feel like days.

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