Yesterday was the first Thursday of the month, but a pounding headache prevented me from posting my Spiritual Thursday post. I hope my fellow ST friends will allow a late and combination Poetry Friday post today!
Donna @ Mainely Write and Laura @ Writing the World for Kids are the hosts where you can read more from my fellow bloggers today. These communities of writers are the most welcoming, heart-filled places! I encourage you to take a peek at what others are sharing in both spaces.
My post today will follow Donna’s Spiritual Thursday theme of Home, but will include a poem for my Poetry Friday friends. I’m actually happy the way this worked out. Last night when I was struggling with a distracting headache, I could not think of what I wanted to write about on the topic of Home. Today, headache gone, and a turn of my new metaphor dice, and everything fell into place. You may find it an unusual and unexpected reflection of home, but the dice made the call:
Have I got you wondering where this is going? It will help you to know that I had two of my four daughters at home with a midwife. I could write at length about all of the incredible aspects of a home birth versus a hospital birth, but the most beautiful part for me was simply being HOME. Having the comfort of my own bed, the freedom to move about as I needed, surrounded by my family allowed me to experience and control my labors in my own time, and more importantly, in my babies time. No doctor’s schedule to feel pressured by. No worry of a switch of nurses at shift change. Time was not a concern whatsoever. Thankfully, my first baby came in under 3 hours, while the second took her sweet time, making everyone wait all.day.long.
Through the entire experience of both births, the presence of my midwife and doula brought such comfort and reassurance. At no point did I ever feel rushed, or that I was doing anything wrong. My second labor was a very long day for everyone, but never did she seem concerned about my slow progress. She was in it for the long haul. She offered support when asked, diligently checked baby’s heartbeat regularly, and remained nearby when needed. This allowed me to focus on every contraction and remain as relaxed and rested as I could in between.
These experiences give home a whole different meaning to me as I reflect back on these home birth experiences. Home was a safe haven where the miracle of life entered the world. Where our older daughters witnessed the birth of a sister, then peacefully drifted to sleep in their beds. Where everyone woke the next morning, sitting together at the breakfast table taking turns cuddling the baby. Where the rhythm of life was barely disrupted; the welcome arrival of our new member brought us into a new rhythm, overnight growing from a family of five to six.
This photo was taken outside the house on the morning of our youngest daughter’s birth – 18 years ago this past Tuesday as a matter of fact! It seems the perfect setting for my accompanying haiku. My dice roll didn’t really make a metaphor I found workable, so I sketched out a few ideas, and discovered I had written a haiku without even trying.
Thank you for letting me share my beautiful memories from a very special home.