Moon Eyed Zephyr

Dear Zephyr,

We haven't yet gotten a photograph of the magical face you started making about a week (or is it two weeks?) ago...the face that inspired the name of this blog.  I'm working on it, but it's hard to catch!  As soon as I capture it, or something even close, I'll post it here. (Well, here is one showing a moment of your beauty, but doesn't quite capture the full power of your Moon Eyes.  I'll keep trying!)

You are 2 moons old right about now, since you were born just hours ahead of the full moon that happened near the beginning of August in 2009.  The experts say that you are just beginning to experience joy; but we don't need child psychologists to tell us about this face, the new one that begins with your eyes growing intensely focused, and then moves to your mouth, which turns up into a wide, gummy grin that takes over your whole face...and then moves back to your eyes, which begin to sparkle with all the magic of moonshine and then turn into the shape of happy upturned crescents...at the same time, something special happens with your upper lip that's very difficult to describe.  It stiffens just a bit to form the top half of your "cheerio mouth" and bring forth your prototypical coo...with which you are apparently trying to explain that all the woes of the world and our hearts are about to be washed away by your love.

Since you started making this face, the one that melts us absolutely and turns us into giant goons, it has taken on many iterations of expression, all of them collectively defining Wonderful and teaching us what that term always should have meant.

You came into the world, as I said, just about 2 moons ago, at 11:11am on the 4th of August, 2009.  I was beginning to worry that you might be considering taking up permanent residence in my womb, since your "due date" was actually July 19th.  (Now that we are experienced experts on natural childbirth, we know that 42 weeks of gestation is perfectly normal, hindered only by the possibility that around this time, the placenta can reach the limit of its ability to sustain your well being, or the amniotic fluid can diminish to levels that can endanger your vitality.)

Your Papa and I had planned and prepared and worked with our midwife to learn everything and do everything to have you at home. (I'll tell you more about this later but we really didn't want to have you in a hospital.)  I know now that I was just a wee little teensy tiny bit afraid of giving birth, and that may have been holding us back.  But on Monday, the day before you were born, because of certain laws, but also because of a legitimate concern about how you were doing in there, we went with our midwife to see a doctor.  After we all looked at ultrasonic pictures of you in my belly, he told your Papa and me that if you didn't decide to make your appearance that day or the next, we would have to come into the hospital after all and try to force you to come out.

Your Papa and I have been through our share of disappointments, the same as all humans who have been alive any amount of time.  But I know he would agree...that was one of the most difficult things we had ever had to hear and grapple with.  Our hearts were indeed quite heavy, little one, and on our way home from hearing this news, your Papa was so distraught that he gave you your first lecture...basically telling you that there was no time like the present to leave your comfy wombhome and go ahead and come on into the world.  It makes me a little weepy thinking about that moment.  See, I had stopped working FIVE weeks before...and every single day your Papa and I woke up, looked at each other hopefully and said, "She could come TODAY!"  And we had been as patient as we could be, knowing that you would come when you were good and ready.

But there we were that 3rd day of August 2009, faced with the possibility of not being able to have you at home after all...with our midwife and friends and family all around us, cheering your arrival with love.  Not that the hospital is a horrible place - lots and lots of people have their babies there and have the most wondrous and joyful experience of their lives.  We just kind of had our hearts set on not interfering with the majestic process of birth and life giving...just to witness and experience it first hand, on the most intimate plane possible.  And we had bought all the supplies!  And cleaned the house!  And made ready!  For you!

That afternoon I stayed home with my thoughts while your Papa distracted himself with a few errands.  While he was gone, our midwife called me and strongly suggested acupuncture to naturally induce labor.  (We had already tried everything else:  using a breast pump, day after day, and taking black cohosh, blue cohosh and immortale...all without success.  We had even gone to IKEA the day before to try to walk you out of the womb.  You declined that offer too.)  So against my will and every instinct, I made the appointment to get acupuncture.  I called your Papa to tell him he had to come home Now! and drive me all the way down south.  He dropped what he was doing, left the store immediately, hopped in the car and proceeded to get pulled over by a policeman who was intent on giving him 2 tickets for the expired registration and inspection stickers that I had failed to renew for months.  Every time your father tried to explain to the policeman that his wife was having a baby, and he needed to get home immediately, the policeman interrupted him and warned him not to "talk back" or he would give him a third ticket for running a red light.  Since your father had not run a red light, he started to object -- and the not so nice policeman gave him the third ticket anyway.  So you see, dear little girl, this was not turning out to be the best day of our lives. 

We somehow made it through the traffic and our bad moods to the acupuncture appointment.  Afterward we were so tired we could barely speak.  To lift our spirits, and because spicy food is also supposed to help induce labor, we went to our favorite Indian food buffet and enjoyed a nice dinner.  Then we came home and watched a dog show on TV, not because we ever watch dog shows, but because the little dogs were sort of cute and distracting, and we didn't have to talk too much about how worried we were that you weren't deciding to come out.  During the dog show we did the only other thing we could do to induce labor.  You aren't old enough to hear about that one yet.

Finally at around 1:00am, we retired for the evening...but every hour that night I woke up, feeling more and more "crampy" each time.  I refused to get my hopes up after weeks of thinking every minor pain was a sign that I just might! be in labor!  But then at 4:30, I couldn't deny it any more.  You really were on your way!  At 5:00am we called our midwife and woke her up.  She basically told us we were idiots and that I needed to be in labor for at least 2 hours before we called her.  But I knew this was it.  My contractions were already between 2-5 minutes apart, and I felt they were VERY intense!  (Little did I know what was to come...)

Our dear sweet midwife called back at 6:00 just to check on us, since she couldn't go back to sleep anyway.  Because my contractions were already so close together, she decided to come on over and sleep in the guest bedroom while my labor progressed.  By the time she arrived, I was already moaning with pain, and could barely stand having to move into the position for her to examine me.  She said I was still only 1 1/2-2 cm dilated, and then she looked me in the eye and told me to get a grip.  She said if I was already moaning at 2 cm I would "be hollerin' at 6."  She said I had to find a way to accept the pain and relax through it. I tried sitting in a chair, but that didn't work.  I was really tired from getting so little sleep, so I used that to my advantage.  I got back in bed, lay down on my side, and started some deep breathing.  In between one of my contractions I called your Aunt Heather to tell her to come over.  (She's not really your aunt, but you probably know that by now.)

I had read a natural birth story in one of Ina May Gaskin's books in which the lady described a powerful visualization for labor...one in which the contractions were like waves of the ocean, and her birth canal was like a cave...each wave of pain was opening up the cave to make way for her baby.  I decided to use this visualization and breathe my way through the pain.  I don't know how many contractions I had or how much time had passed, but when our midwife, MariMikel, came back in to check on me, I had already dilated to 6 cm!  Wow!  That had seemed (relatively) easy.  Around that time Heather and Hannah (your Godsister) arrived.  They lit beautiful candles and set out blessings that they and Maya and Autumn and Chrysteen had written for you.

Heather sat down beside me and I had to tell her not to touch me!  (Anytime someone spoke to me or touched me, I felt the pain more intensely.  I had to be completely focused to make it through each moment.)  Your Papa was so wonderful the whole time, getting the birth tub ready, taking care of last-minute details...supporting me without touching me or saying anything to me...just being there and loving me with his spirit.

Around this time, our midwife told me I had gotten as far as I could go lying down, and she asked me to stand up through a few contractions.  Tree and Patricia arrived, and I moved into the bathroom to see if the shower would help.  This was the only time I can remember not loving the feeling of water on my skin - it was so strange!  So I switched to kneeling in the tub and the warm water felt good for awhile.  Patricia and Heather and your Papa were all there, nearby...helping me through each moment, without touching me or talking to me!

I moved back to the bed, feeling that I just had to lie down again.  When MariMikel examined me again, I had dilated to 9cm!  It was all happening so very quickly.  During the examination, I felt a powerful urge to push, and couldn't stop myself.  MariMikel and your Papa breathed with me, the powerful "pant-blow" breath that saved me.  Your Papa and I moved to the bathroom while the midwife and my friends prepared the bed for the birth.  Everything was happening so quickly that the midwife apprentices hadn't yet arrived!  That time with your father was the most intense of our lives, little girl.  He knelt in front of me, looking deep into my eyes, breathing with me, encouraging me, and loving me through the biggest test I've ever been through.  Any time our breathing got out of synch with the contractions, or any time he let the true intensity of his emotions show, the train would sort of fall off the tracks and I would have to yell out in pain.  But we kept trying, working together, to stay on top of the pain and get through each moment.  I've never before and probably never will again experience intimacy and love that powerful.  Your Papa is a beautiful man.

Before too long we were summoned to the birthing bed, the bed you still sleep in with us every night.  Heather was on my left side, your Papa was on my right, holding my legs and helping me breathe and push.  It was only at this point that I realized we were going to do it!  That I was going to make it through childbirth without drugs, and that you were going to be with us really soon!  I was exhilarated.  I had learned that if not interfered with, a woman's body will produce extremely high levels of oxytocin during labor, which peak at the moment of delivery.  I know now how true this is, looking back and thinking about the whole experience.  Oxytocin is a natural painkiller, and it was all I needed.  I remember thinking during the moment you were being born, that it was much less painful than I thought it would be.  When you finally did arrive, Little Zephyr, and your father caught you, the first thing you did was pee in his hands.  He thought it was delightful.  Then he put you on my belly and I saw you for the first time.  I couldn't stop saying, over and over again, "She's here; she's really here!"  Or, "She made it; she really made it!"

I know now that I was in labor for 6 1/2 hours, and pushed for 16 minutes.  Those are amazing stats for a first-time mom, kid.  Even more incredible considering that your Mama is almost 42 years old.  Not the spring chicken body of an 18 year old that was designed to give birth.  But then, I've never done anything in the "proper" order.

Every day since that day you've been changing me.  Melting my heart into new capacities and dimensions...leading my life into powerful new paths and rhythms.  That's why I started this blog.  I knew I had to start writing about these moments before they change shape in my mind and might possibly be lost.  I can't wait to be with you each day, to watch as you change and grow, and to continue to be humbled and awed by the incredible privilege of being your Mommy.  I love you.