Womb Notes: 27 Weeks

Dear Baby,

27 weeks2Here we are, growing together at 27 weeks.  I was 27 years old when I gave birth to your oldest sister.   And 2+7 = 9, the number of moons I get to grow you and know you in mystery.   The weeks catch up to me quickly now, as I hustle and bustle your siblings in the beautiful daily grind of life.

But you never fail to remind me you are there, swimming below the surface like an elusive sea creature.   You begin your nightly tumbles and kicks around 9pm and you don’t stop until sunrise.   In fact, a strong movement from you can often awaken me with a gasp.    I won’t lie; it’s hard to get good deep sleep when you are up partying and twerking and dancing it all out.

I often wonder what it must feel like to grow from seed to baby in a short 9 months.  To feel fingers sprout, and bones lengthen, and muscles attach, and brain cells multiply, and eyes open for the first time.  The taste of sweet amniotic fluid on your tongue, the muffled sounds of your siblings, and the echo of my heart beat.   You really do birth yourself…

Your brother kisses and hugs you daily, and has told me “Mama, I will protect the baby”.  I have no doubt in my mind that he will.  He is one of the kindest, most tender souls that I know and there is a deep connection between you both.   May you bless each other in this lifetime.

from aboveIt is now October, the month of my fertility.   At this time with my other babies, I had just learned about the spark of their existence.  I am used to holding this sacred secret until the winter solstice, tucking my womb babies near my heart and smiling with knowing at what is expanding with me.   And now, here you are, visibly known to the world, your heart beating in syncopation with my blood and my beat.    As the desert winds bring a cool reprieve, I cozy up to my thoughts of your impending birth.   I cannot believe that, instead of sharing the news of a pregnancy with friends and family during the holidays, I will be close to sharing the news of your Earth coming.

laying downYour birth, in our home; what will it be like? I wonder this daily.  I sit with the visions, the hopes, the soul wanderings.  I envision my sacred body, opening for the fourth time in the greatest prayer of all.  Unfolding in tidal waves and calm currents.    I wish for your arrival to be a festival of nothing but bliss and gratitude and big love.   I wish for you to feel this the very moment my hands (or your daddy’s) reach down for your body.  I await the moments we tuck into our big family bed, fresh sheets smoothed out just for us, and soak each other up.

Know this: you are not born flawed, or blemished, or sinful, or imperfect.  You are a spiritual being brought here to know Pleasure, Love, Adventure, and Gratitude.  You will experience and know the spiral of all emotions. And you will be held through it all.  You need not be saved.  You are a savior already, a warrior of your own heart, a guru of goodness, a seer of everything in between blood, stars, and fertile brown earth.

Grow, baby, grow.   Rest, baby, rest.  Listen and remember the sounds of your first home.  I will hear them resonate in your breath on the day you are born to me.

I love you, you know…



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