Thursday, February 11, 2010

On dreams

Lately, I have been remembering dreams again. I remember them so vividly these days. They are all about parenting, mothering an infant. Most of the time, I am nursing and holding a wee babe. The babe is nestled in the crook of my arm, and we are staring at each other, the baby is nursing and laughing and smiling. The baby always has dark, curly, brown hair, and a gorgeous smile.

I wonder if this is Jolene coming to me?

Is this a different child who is waiting to be born from me?

I don't know which, all I know is a I have an overwhelming urge to parent and love and mother an infant. Maybe it's my hormones?

My postpartum hormones telling me you should have a baby right now, you should be nursing, so here you go, a child who is in your dreams... I don't know...?

Tuesday, February 2, 2010


I am here, I am breathing, the sun rose, the children woke up, the dogs needed to go out, the rooster began his good morning song. The coffee was brewed, lunches made, kids on the bus. And here I am.
Life goes on. And, I miss her, I miss my baby. She should be here laughing at me and eating oatmeal.

Life goes on, and I am sitting here thinking about how life does go on. Is it time that changes things or is it life that just goes on? I still have a heart full of love, still have a heart full of sadness, yet I am here breathing. That is kind of amazing to me. The fact that I did not melt away.
I still feel anxiety attack me in the middle of the night, it shakes me awake and I lie wondering why? Why me, why her? Why us? I am working really hard on noticing when anxiety creeps in and takes hold of my mind, it is such an unhealthy feeling, I begin to question all that I am, my marriage, my self. I am here, my heart is pure, it is love, it is sad.
What is is that heals us, is it waking every day and greiving? Is it waking every day and loving through grief? It is shaky, it is groundless, it is not here or there, who am I now that I am recognizing "this me?" This me who knows how horrible death is, this me who knows that death comes knocking on my door, death comes and I watch death kidnap my child from my arms, my belly, my heart, my dreams.
All I can think is have I loved today? Have I shown the world that I have loved? I am going to keep trying, keep showing the world my broken, loving heart. It is exposed and I have found it again.
I think I will go throw hay to the hungry horses, scatter some scratch for the chickens, go to work, and just keep breathing.