Posts tagged Volume 1
5 thoughts on my first 5 months of having 5 kids

#1 This is all still so new.

Yes I know this. And I have to remind myself—and my family!— everyday that I JUST had a baby. That she just got here. That all the changes and new rhythms are a growth and expansion process for all of us. That one precious baby was born, and 7 whole lives were transformed in our immediate family bubble. And all of us need time to feel, breathe, and be…

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Wednesday’s Bloom at 525 weeks: My audience of little dreamers

Bloom says I have to do today’s Wednesday’s Bloom because it’s Wednesday. When he says this to me I’m nursing the baby and my eyelids are growing heavier by the minute. It’s late, and 4 out of 5 munchkins are wide awake. I’m beyond tired because the accumulation of labors—over the day, the week, the month, the year, the years— has brought me to this specific level of exhaustion. I tell him it will be a very short post. He says he will read it in the morning…

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5 thoughts on having 5 kids

#1 The memory of being loved is not the same thing as feeling loved.

My older children are all trying to find their new way of connecting one-on-one with Mommy. These early weeks have been a whirlwind of vibrant feelings in every direction. Joy, disappointment, sadness, loneliness, excitement, happiness, eagerness, anxiety, anger, despair, hope, gratitude. They have all said multiple times, that their new baby sister is getting all the attention…

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Wednesday’s Bloom at 524 weeks: A sure pulse of something bright and unruly within

When your first, earth-born child reaches his 10th birthday, you will have been a visible, birthing mother for well over 500 weeks. I started counting the weeks when Bloom was 8 weeks old, and I have been counting ever since. All of my calendars note the number of weeks each munchkin is on their respective day of the week. So far I have given birth on a Wednesday, a Friday, a Saturday, a Monday, and most recently, a Sunday…

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Giving birth is a matter of life and death {Essay Sketch #1}

Two months before giving birth to my 5th baby, I stumbled across some heartbreaking news. A childhood friend of mine had passed away suddenly from complications from childbirth. It was her 4th child. She had died two years before and I was only just now learning of it after a seemingly random search of her name online. I can’t tell you why she crossed my mind that day, but she did. I haven’t been able to look up anyone else from my past since…

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Our fertility is our superpower

Our fertility is everything, the source of every creation, every birth, every dream. It matters how we feel about it, how we live inside its majesty in our day to day frequencies. Our fertility, when we are in love with it, waters us and sustains us. And when we are afraid of it, or feel shame, anxiety, or disconnected from it, we see those same energies rippling out in our lives in so many other ways…

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Looking for something beautiful

I have one mirror in my house—not by choice, rather by circumstance. Four circumstances actually, ages 9, 7, 5, and especially 3. While I know there are other mothers with young children who’ve managed to have mirrors safely in their home, I am not yet one of them. Sometimes I daydream about what it would be like to have a wall of mirrors when I’m dancing, or a massive, gorgeous, oval, wood-framed mirror that reached from the floor to the ceiling, so that I could study my whole form, as I am, and not the digitally-rendered, miniature version of myself that my phone faithfully reports backs to me…

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Softening The Soil: On Nurturing Gentle, Restorative Dialogues About Our Fertility

The Garden is teaching me so much about finding soft, gentle ways into our deepest, most intimate fertility narratives. Opening up and becoming more receptive to the internal dialogues we have with ourselves and each other as creators is one way we transform and reimagine our relationships with our fertility and creativity. Being able to access and articulate what we truly feel and how we want to create is vital to sustaining a healthy flow of our creations and nurturing optimal wellness as a creator…

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Book of Mother Mother: A photo essay of my journal archive

What if these stories that I’ve preserved are not even for me to look at? What if my children, my grandchildren, my great-grandchildren are going to comb through my stories and piece this stuff together? What if my labor is to gather them, and keep them in a place where they can be found some generations forward. What if the processing of it, and deciphering of it is going to be in the next century, in the next millennium…

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When I first became a mother

I don’t know how to start at the beginning. It’s all the beginning. Right now. Yesterday. 10 years ago. 20 years ago. When, when, when? The choices are infinite.

When did I become a mother? There are many points that come to mind. Vivid memories, and fragmented ones too, they cascade down from the heavens and pool around my feet…

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