I originally wrote this in my journal a month or so ago. I've decided to share it here, too. It's a little personal but it's family stuff. And I feel like sharing it. And I can if I want.
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Yesterday I got dressed and put a bra on. A NORMAL BRA. Not a nursing bra, not a maternity bra. I haven't done that since 2012. And the reason that matters is that yesterday was the first day of the rest of my life. If there was ever a time to burn bras, it would be my maternity and nursing bras, which represent the years of my life spent literally and directly nourishing and building little bodies with my own. And now, with the weaning (which was led by Calvin, and not me) of Calvin, my babiest of babies, I'm saying goodbye to that entire chapter of my life.
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| pregnant with #1, Zion's National Park |
This comes literally weeks away from 10 since of the first time I started "trying to conceive", and so a decade was spent trying, failing, succeeding, growing, birthing, nursing, trying, failing, succeeding, and so on. From here on out my body is just my body and is no longer an extension of another human being. Not a feeding station, not a growing chamber. Just me.
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| A few weeks from becoming 1st time parents! |
I feel as though I am lovingly folding a beloved quilt to be packed away into a cedar chest, where it can be cherished but no longer used. I feel myself running my fingers along the seams of the quilt, revisiting the ups and downs of the season it represents. The pain, the depression, the elation and impossibly perfectly simple joys, the disappointment, fear, and illness. This patch of the quilt tells of the time I literally went into shock upon finding a surprise "positive" when I was already struggling more than I had ever before, while Spencer held me close and cried tears of joy for another bundle of love coming our way.
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| Layla on board. You can't tell by my face but by this time the shock had turned to excitement and gratitude, which would only grow as we got to know the little person who surprised us so. |
This one over here is when I was having a procedure done and it went wrong and in the pain and confusion I feared that my ability to choose to have more pregnancies would be gone. I was surprised at the heartache and longing that possibility brought.
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| Cadence (3) and Campbell (16 months) greet their brand new sister Layla with a huge and warm welcome |
Here's the one where we witnessed our first ultrasound. Together, hand in hand, we watched our very own precious baby kick and twirl and squirm. I couldn't help but laugh from the happiness it brought. And here, along this seam, are the other ultrasounds, each one filling us with anticipation and promise as we eagerly awaited another addition.
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| Ultrasound of Cadence |
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| checking in to the hospital with Campbell on the way |
See these patterns, the meals that were brought, the help with the house and kids. Here I can see all the months spent on the couch or over the toilet. Trying to eat. Trying to nourish.
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| One of the frequent times when the only place I could be was on the floor. Don't ask me to explain. Pregnancy wasn't good to me. Pregnancy #5 pictured here. |
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| Don't judge. I'm at the finish line. |
The guilt. Those dirty, scrappy corners are from the Guilt. Didn't eat enough spinach. Too much fish in the wrong trimester. Surviving off of crackers and Ginger Ale. Supplementing with formula. Letting them keep a pacifier because you couldn't afford to risk the sleep. Arriving late to the pediatrician appointment. Missing the signs of a food allergy for over a year. Letting them cry it out. Not letting them cry it out. Spending months on the couch while they beg you to play with them but you're too pregnant and sick to move. Losing your temper with a 2 year old. Neglecting the kids to get the house clean. Letting the house fall to pieces because you are playing ring around the rosies over and over again...
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| 4 days before Ezra joined the circus. |
Oh, here's a bright square. This one reminds me of when Ezra was born. The girls had been tucked into bed while my contractions were just beginning to take off. They woke up in the morning to a brand new baby brother waiting in mom and dad's room. What a golden moment.
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| Layla (3), Campbell (nearly 5), and Cadence (2 days from 7) meet Ezra, who surprised them at breakfast |
I lift this part of the quilt to my cheek and momentarily breath in the memories of each of my newborns. Looking into their eyes as they look into mine. holding them close to my heart and feeling them relax and calm. I just can hardly find the words for this part of the quilt.
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| First Moments with Campbell |
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| And then there were 3. Welcome Cadence! |
These crooked stitches are from Nursing. Uncomfortable at best; the worst stabbing, searing shooting pain of my entire life at worst. The beginning, when I'd cry along with the baby as it took all the courage I could muster to work toward that latch, because I knew what pain was coming as soon as the baby's mouth touched the nipple. Baby was crying and hungry and tongue was curling and back was arching and I was crying and holding the baby's head with my hand giving myself a pep-talk to shove the open mouth onto the raw and bleeding nipple and let that baby start suckling while I tried to distract myself with a show. How I look back on those memories now. Not with a desire to relive, but with a fondness that only hindsight can bring. Maybe fondness isn't the word. But the quilt just wouldn't be the same quilt without those stitches.
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| First time holding Ezra in my arms. |
I reach out and touch the little patch that reminds me of the night I nursed newborn Calvin. I could see that his eye was swollen and looked so uncomfortable, and yet I could sense how content and happy he was. He even laughed ever so slightly as he drifted off to sleep. I told myself that if he could be content in spite of his eye, I could certainly overcome the anxiety and pain that came with nursing him. And so I suffered through those nights and days of nursing with a greater resolve to be content, taking my cue from my brand new fella.
Another moment that comes flooding back is when 10 month old Ezra was hospitalized for a seizure and I spent the 5 days/nights there with him while pregnant and very sick. It felt like the longest 5 days in the history of the world. I look back now and they are only a small part of the whole blanket.
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| Spencer always took the time to have "skin to skin" time with each baby. Here he snuggles Layla while he preps for finals and is probably on a business call. |
Here, all around the outside edge, is the binding. I slip my fingers around it and remember the father of my children. He was the anchor, the support, the one that kept it all together when I could barely move or when I was overwhelmed. Etched into my mind and onto my quilt is the memory of him with each baby against his chest. There is truly nothing he wouldn't do for those babies and for our family. He is the binding of this amazing quilt and it is a strong and sure edge.
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| So proud of and in love with Campbell! Kisses for Ezra from handsome Daddy |
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| Unspeakable joy/Calvin's welcoming commitee |
The ties of the quilt. As my hands pass the ties of the quilt I think of all the prayers. Please! Let us have a family! Please! Let the babies be healthy! Please! Let this birth go well. Let me have some strength. Let us keep this pregnancy. Let us be safe. Please, let us be wise. Please, help the baby to gain weight, to get well, to sleep, to wake up, to grow and do and be as he or she should. Thank you! Thank you for more babies. Thank you for survival. Thank you for friends, family, or even hotel staff who reached out to help. Thank you for miracles. And thank you for family. And babies. And breastfeeding. And formula.
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| how many prayers might it take to adequately express gratitude for this? |
Each part of the quilt I'm carefully folding up has it's place in my memory, both the ups and downs have made me the woman I am today and made my husband the man he is. And each baby that has joined our family has made us the family we are. And so the quilt must be folded gently and with love.
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| Last pregnancy!!! |
Of course, my chapter of motherhood is still in the thick of things and how grateful I am for that. But as I allow myself to look upon the bittersweetness of last-baby-dom, I can't just put the quilt away without taking a moment to run my hands along it with a long and heavy sigh and appreciate it.
An entire decade. A heavy, well-loved quilt. Time to tuck it away and look forward to the future.
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| The future looks so bright! |
