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| Sweet relief; party of three. Bernard Elgin--seconds old--placed on my chest. November 11, 2018. |
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The dreaming just comes natural
Like the first breath from a baby,
Like sunshine feeding daisies,
Like the love hidden deep in your heart.
'Donald and Lydia' -John Prine
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| Lie down in the light. Benny warms up as he gets his first once-over. Ten fingers, ten toes, white chicken hair? Check! |
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| Minutes old on the warming table and not exactly impressed. |
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| Benny and midwife/ aunty Em. |
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I didn't know what I was missing until I felt the weight of my newly born son gently laid across my chest. On Remembrance Day, November 11, 2018 at 7:11pm our son slipped from my body into this world. He was little--as we were assured he would be--but mighty. He took to the breast like an old hat. My gentle little teacher. Pleasure to make your acquaintance at last dear child!
We named him Bernard (in honour of Iain's late grandfather) Elgin (an ode to the first child I ever truly connected with as a Montessori teacher). We did it; we are parents! Iain's grin and exquisite face of emotion told me so in those first minutes as a family of three. Sweet relief.
The idea of penning a play-by-play of his birth is far too great of a task for me at this time. Perhaps I am still too close to the beginning of the story to write with enough perspective to give it any depth. I will say that the labouring aspect of Bernard's birth was incredibly empowering to the woman in me. I have never turned as deeply inward as I did during those long hours of labour. Facing surge after surge of the most powerful energy my body has ever known, I took great solace in silently rattling off a roll call of matriarchs who came before me.
Anna, Elizabeth, Annie, Helen, Kim
Anna, Elizabeth, Annie, Helen, Kim
Anna, Elizabeth, Annie, Helen, Kim
Anna, Elizabeth, Annie, Helen, Kim
Anna, Elizabeth, Annie, Helen, Kim
Anna, Elizabeth, Annie, Helen, Kim
Anna, Elizabeth, Annie, Helen, Kim
These are the names of the women who carried me and in turn, birthed me. They became a lifeline that I held onto for dear life, silently repeating their names while gripping this railing or that until the powerful wave washed over and out toward the shore leaving me bobbing along before the next one rolled in. Bobbing along, gathering my wits. Long, deep and low notes helped me achieve the "loose and low" wishes of my midwife. It was incredible to feel my body begin to open as the night progressed despite sounding like a cow in labour. Find your rhythm and hold fast!
Transition and the physical act of pushing Benny's body out of mine was a different story. There was no solace, no break, no intuitive wisdom from generations of Christmas past. Where did the hard-earned power, pride and intuition go that I had just felt and worked hours to achieve? All that was suddenly replaced by fear and doubt that the child would ever emerge. It was the hardest mental and physical work I have ever achieved in my life. Thanks to the incredible kindness and guidance of my midwife Emily and the attending nurse Kristen, I clawed my way back to the surface and hauled up my boot straps. Puke and rally--Kroeker style. It probably sounds strange but in my despair it helped to conjure up all of the most horrifying pieces of land I have ever planted and funnel that energy into the physical process. The baby did emerge eventually and I thank the moon above for his tiny head.
From where I write I can hear Benny mewing and grunting in his bassinet. Sweet baby dreams to you my little sweet sweet sweet. We are in the thick of it now and I wouldn't trade these precious first weeks for anything. Sacred times over here.
That is all for now. Thanks for reading my story. I shall leave you with this final image. True pride, as captured by my sister Erin who (along with my mother Kim, sweet Iain, midwife Emily and nurse Kristen) attended the birth and assisted me from start to finish despite having a little babe of her own at home. I thank you and I love you.
Most of all, I love my partner Iain. Without you, I would be in a very different place. I have no doubt that I am right where I need to be. Thanks for dancing this funny dance with me. We made a child and he is lovely!
Dear Bernard, thank you for choosing me to be your mama. I love you to the moon and back and I'll do my best to raise you to be a sweet and kind man like your dad.
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| Right back where he belongs. This is a portrait of a mother's pride. I did it! |
Most precious photographs thanks to my dear sister Erin du Plooy.
Kiev 60 / Delta 400
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