the milk dance

 So You Think You Can Dance? Do you remember the time you danced in your mother's arms because you knew sweet, warm milk was right around the shoulder? I remember riding the bus from our woody post into town, watching the African toddler attack his mothers breast as they fell into the sweet rhythm of nursing. A man watched and urged, "Get that boobie, son, ya."

I remember that time intensely because I was visualising the day when my own sweet chubby faced wee-one would dance in my arms at the promise of nourishment, cuddles, and sweet nothings whispered into the magic silence surrounding the two of us. Us, in our own little love-universe, bathed by the infinite trickle of milk emanating from the raging rivers of motherhood.

In a failed case of milk flow, I try not to bamboozle the cream connection with this baby girl. It's there. As a grove etched into the landscape, I come bearing fruit and milk and other gifts. Not taken from deep within my capillaries.....    no, but from some brave soul on a loving quest. 

As creation suggests I try a new form of nursing, my body's ability to single-souley provide for Delilah has dissipated, but my passion to catch the milk dance from her, is ever powerful. I was given an opportunity to find the "new" milk maids. The indigenous seekers, like myself, willing to express the ever raging ancienctry within our psyche. Let my neighbor nurse my infant. Let my neighbor instill in me the compassion I long for. Let my neighbor open a whole new universe, that I may tiptoe around and find a suitable throne, encrusted with Amethyst and Peridot, to rest, with Delilah dreaming upon my arm while I feed her the rainbow tinted sap of another mother.

We Love, We Believe, We Create.... at every feeding, we Gaze into each others souls and do these things. I'm an activist for Infant Love. My baby eats whenever she feels the need, she is electric, she is a suction wizard, a soft soul whisper with the cheesy potion of Endless Joy tucked under her neck rolls. 

 Failed milk flow is a gift. Aborting raw mission is not an option.  I see the need for magi ck.    

Fall Critique

This kid can blow my mind daily. Just yesterday 10am rolls around and Delilah just starts kickin her little chunky legs. No crying, no whining, no sound at all. She does this one kick two kick one kick two kick. Alternating each leg as she kicks hard and retracts hard. It is one of the funnier quirks she has. So back to yesterday morning... Delilah kick kicking, moma rolling over to see what all the commotion is about, and being greeted by two big, bright morning eyes. Straight from the stars. My own little taste of divinity each and every moment if I allow it. I assume most parents wonder, "What did I do to deserve this happiness?"
She's all smiles. She does this inward laugh. And blinks her eyes hard, then stares at me, waiting for my laugh. Love hits hard.

I've been so gentle with this little creature. Making sure to never scare her or accidentally pinch her. She seems to be getting big enough now that I feel comfortable giving her a little air time. Her precious little expressions of sheer horror then immediate smiles as my hands catch her weight. I'm teaching her about gravity. Teaching her about her own weight.
Everybody comments on her gentle nature. Her extreme awareness and soft light. And old soul, so they say. Isn't it bizarre how the child shows the same tendencies of character as her parents? I think creation gave Delilah great blessings when he showed her how to be more like her Pa. Calm & collected. Self sufficient. Perhaps creation showed her how to harness my passion for things in a more guided manner. I can only hope.
She loves to press cheeks. "Hmmm", she wonders. "These big, soft cushions under my eyes are beautiful. I love to squish cushions with Moma."

Other three month milestones....
When Moma holds me up I can walk one foot then the other.
I'm learning to not fall forward when I sit.
I'm learning the inside of my mouth. Mama massages my gums, while I drool.
I'm laughing at everyone who looks at me with affection.
I still love my swing, my vibrator chair, and my mobile light shows. Sometimes Moma has to steal me from my toys because she gets jealous.
I hardly ever cry. But when I do, its like a sing song. Beautiful & soft & charming.
I'm now eleven pounds big. I'm small, but heavy!

Good news from the South... Delilah & I should be meeting Pa in Sante Fe for the Thanksgiving holiday. Crossing our fingers! Adventure sounds real nice right about now.

The First Three Months

I am dabbling in the world of blog so that I can share my life with Delilah with the people we love far and wide. I've never really blogged before so this should be fun.

I am a very creative person and when I realized that I haven't sat down and documented her little milestones I felt guilty of robbing her of some precious memory that she could come back to when she is older. But its never too late to start...

Going back in time...

July 22nd, 2010
Here I was, feeling enormous and hot and ready to burst. But also feeling safe, as if I had a few more weeks to get use to the idea of this faceless little person in my arms and running my life. (due date 8/6/10)
Sitting at Doobie & Kyle's house listening to them talk about the birthday party for Doobie planned for that weekend. Her birthday was tomorrow. Fun, fun.

July 23rd, 2010
Woke up early to pack up my brothers truck for our camping trip to Kausey Dam. Everybody was warning me not to go, and I was offended. Really I was. Like my pregnancy was some kind of disability? Rude.
We drove through the beautiful, scenic passes up to the dam and unloaded our gear bracing ourselves for the tranquility and beautifulness of this area we were about to enjoy for a few days. A welcome speedbumb to the hustle and bustle of everybody's busy life. Time to just sit and watch the kids play, fish in the river and cook yummy food over the fire. UNTIL.... I was walking around the campsite with Bryce (9) and Brendan (3) figuring out our place in the scheme of things, subconsciously looking for treasure, when I felt a change in my gut. Nothing alarming or painful just a little tightening. I hoped it was part of the preparatory contractions I had been feeling for weeks. I hoped.

We drove a few minutes to Pineview Dam, a familiar hangout, and layed out on the sand and played with the kids. I did more laying than anything. Even had a little airbed mattress under some trees. It was awesome. Then....."crunch". It felt like some defining large bone of Delilah's had just crunched its way down my pelvic cavity. Again, it didn't hurt, but the feeling of urgency overtook me and I braced myself. What came next was an undeniable contraction followed by a gush of liquid. Ah shit, here we go. Me crying, the neighboring group/family looking over concerned, and me again trying to not make a big deal out of anything. But it was a big deal because I was about to have this baby.
Its was cute, my brother panicked a little when everything suddenly seemed to come unhinged, his three month old was balling hysterically, everybody was hot and sweaty, and here I was screaming and crying every three minutes. Julie, my sister-in-law, tried to maintain some ounce of sanity for everyone as the adrenaline kicked in. She was driving me out of the canyon, great-grandma and baby Baylee in tow. At first I wanted to go home. Thinking I could bare a few hours of this at home. It wasn't long before I changed my mind. Straight to the hospital it was. 

I was just beginning to realize why everybody had warned me not to go camping. But then again, I love a good adventure and Pineview is not a bad place at all to start this whole childbirth experience. It would have been so unlike me to play it safe.
I will describe the feeling of Delilah's birth as an elated-time joy-blastoff-highly spiritual experience. She was announcing her arrival through me and I was glad to be of service. Call it pain or call it unavoidable extreme mindfulness. It was an awesome feeling, a force I had no choice but to reckon with.

to be cont.