Yes, we all parent from our hearts.

I am interested in digging deeper into the cultural aspects of parenting (specifically western vs eastern and elsewhere), and the physiological and psychological effects this has on babies. If we look at the evidence of scientific analysis, anthropology, and new science of ethnopediatrics we find that babies are meant to be carried, are meant to sleep with their parents etc. My instincts have always felt this was right, so I guess I don't really need to label my way of parenting by any other name than biological, instinctual and amplified by loss.

The book Our Babies Ourselves is a must read.

I, I take photos from my heart, I always have and always will. Holdyn is nearly 25 weeks. It's been a while since I posted photos, here are some from 23 weeks - 24 weeks.

"Loss" For Words

I'm not really sure where to begin...

Birdie's birthday was a very somber but also a very beautiful day. This is what I saw when I woke up in the morning.



The sunshine that came bursting into the kitchen was very nostalgic of the morning that Birdie died. The sun was out that day, it was blasting and the sky was so blue. I know I didn't glance out the window more than a few times, but I remember that sky, that was Birdie's sky....as blue as her eyes were (we had opened one of her eyes to see).



We took things really slow on this 2nd birthday of our little bird. We rose slowly in the morn, we made no definite plans and just let the moments guide us.



This year was different feeling as we have a sweet little miracle to celebrate our sadness with. It felt different, though this year I was able to feel some of the deepest loathing dark sadness that I had on March 3, 2007. Somehow I was able to get back there, and with Holdyn in my arms I cried, I sobbed, I cried into his neck and took in his smell, I bathed in his warmth and his breath.



And my dear Matthew...he sat for hours with Birdie's urn. He sat with her body, her remains, her dust, her ash, the remnants of bone and flesh. He sat with her in this way for hours, recording video footage, close up studies of her beautiful body in her beautiful urn. I watched him do this for a time, my heart exploded and I wailed out loud. My heart broke for him, for not being able to be there lying in bed with his little girl, singing happy birthday, tickling each other, giggling into the afternoon...smitten with each other.



We decided to go snowshoeing.

It was a gorgeous day, the air was fresh with winter and snow. A perfect day for a wintery hike with Birdie, and she sang for us, before our time in the forest was done...we heard her sing.

And now here we are, I have been feeling a bit lost. Not knowing what to write because I have so much to say. I have also been busy with little Holdyn, what a miracle to wake up next to each morning, what a lovely little person to drink in, to cuddle, to nuzzle, to nurse.

It's because of Birdie that he is here right now. It is because of Birdie that I am the mother I am to Holdyn, it is because of both my children that I have let go of (and continue to let go of) my past burdens, my emotional trauma's, my baggage, my stresses. These little ones are reminders of the importance of the here and now, that each moment is so very precious, that we cannot get caught up in petty issues that are pointless. My children are like little sitting Buddhas keeping me in the here and now, in the present moment, and truly, truly being there, being completely available for Holdyn. With a clear mind I am able to see what makes him happy, when he is about to become sad, or hear that little change in his voice tells me he is hungry.

Can you tell that I am tired? I have begun to ramble.

Time for bed, my sweet little nursling will be calling soon.

xo-Erin

words will soon come.

The Sun Is Out Of Bed, Our Phoenix Has Risen

(For The Second Time)

Now we are here, the actual time of birth and death have once again arrived and passed. On this day there will be celebration, though quiet and somber. No cheerful little girl will be here running around, anticipating the excitement and wonder of her day, there will be no gifts to be thoughtfully opened slowly one at a time. We will not witness the sparkle of life in our daughters eyes. We will instead spend our days with our own wonder at the mystery of her death, with sorrow in our hearts and watch as little waterfalls spill forth from our eyes...and a tiny miracle will make this sadness OK. For there in this dark space there will be our light, our hope, our son, Holdyn who is 5 months old on his sisters 2nd birthday.

This is all still very surreal, perhaps it is always going to be.



Birdie, we miss you and love you so much.

Love you always...until we meet again in the stars,
Mama

Here It Comes. I See The Sun Just On The Horizon.

Last week I was experiencing a feeling that I had not felt since my pregnancy with Birdie. The feeling is hard to describe because it was so physical present within my body. It was almost like my body had returned to a state of pregnancy, and my mind knew what was to come. There was a wisdom there and also a sadness, and it felt very real and very familiar. I can't remember having felt that last year, a physical remembering within my body though there was definitely a rush of emotional memories, and visual memories.

Also last week a mysterious feather appeared in our house. I had noticed something on one of our rugs, and thought it was a random piece of string or fabric from my craft bin. I had noticed it and ignored it. And ignored it. Then, I was curious so I looked closer and realized it was a feather quickly I picked it up. Immediately I shared my find with Matt, we were both baffled. Now this is no ordinary everyday feather, it's long and has a reddish brown hue. It's not a crow nor pigeon feather, it looks like a pheasant feather we are guessing. However, it could be from a cardinal. We just don't know. What we do know is that it was not there earlier in the day, and after we came home from taking Holdyn to see Elizabeth Mitchell perform it was there.

We are sure it was Birdie sending us a sign.

So, here it comes my friends...here we are, here I sit tonight with a heavy heart (my heart is always a little heavy as you already know) as the seconds, minutes and hours tick tock away. The precious last hours that 2 years ago today were Birdie's last hours alive. Her Karma nearly fulfilled, for soon she would become a sitting Buddha, an enlightened one, a spirit, a perfect light of everlasting true love.

As hard as it can be to think about this time, and the vast and dark expanse of what came after things took a dangerous turn, I do think about it. I don't shield my eyes, or turn away and hide from it, my daughters death is my truth. Birdie's death is seared into my heart, and inked upon my skin. She is my daily reminder to enjoy life to the fullest, to let go of the bitterness that can turn emotions into an avalanche of anger and disgust.

This year I wonder who will forget and who will remember.

We just got a foot of fresh snow, so for Birdie's birthday we are headed to the mountains for a little snowshoeing adventure. I know it's going to be beautiful, quiet and peaceful. Holdyn of course will be there bundled up, safe and warm in the carrier. It will be our first snowshoeing adventure of the year, and Holdyn's first walk in a snowy wood.

Almost 5 1/2 hours to go now...

I am re-living that night in my mind, the feelings and memories have grown stronger since I began this post almost an hour ago. This is where it all went down, right here in these rooms before me.

Did I miss something? Some sign of distress? A call for help?

The sun is just about on the horizon...I will see you on the other side, Birdie will not.