Farewell Balou

This evening, my little family of three arrived home after an unexpected overnighter at my in-law's, which was fabulous (more on that later) and I was faced with guilt from my neglect of my two other babies, Roxie and Balou, the rats. Ok, I'll give you some time to get over the fact that I have pet rats, and consider them my babies. I'm an animal lover, what can I say? I found my sickly rat, Balou, much sicker than I left her, so weak and barely able to walk around due to the weight of her tumor. Her eyes were bloody which I knew was inevitable because of her long-suffered respiratory illness, very common in rats. I have tried to take care of her as best I could, I even gave her a homeopathic remedy for her illness. But I never resorted to taking her to the vet or giving her antibiotics. I just couldn't bring myself to spend that much money on her even though I loved her. Months ago, I would've been in tears over this, but I've grown apart from my rats since the baby came, a good thing I think. One is better off not getting too attached to animals that only live 2 or 3 years.

Anyway, I didn't want to even touch her because I was scared of how sick she looked, I haven't touched her in a while. But the poor thing was trying to get out of her cage and could hardly walk. So I took her in my arms and had one last cuddle, she deserved that much. Then Jamie and I discussed what to do, and decided to put her out of her misery. He said he would do it. I asked him how he could do such a thing. He said people are different, and he is the kind of person who can handle that sort of thing. My biggest worry was that he would cause her pain, however he did it. I asked him to make sure that he did it in a painless way. He said he would.

We lit a candle, and read a scripture verse, I forget which one, and both told Balou how much she meant to us and that we were sorry. We also explained to Roxie what we were doing. This helped me feel okay about it all. Then Jamie took her in her little hammock and put that inside a hat, and went outside and did the deed. I have no idea how he did it because he refused to tell me because he didn't want me to get more upset. I'm glad I don't know. But he said that she felt no pain and it was an instant death.

Then I cleaned the cage really really well, and made it all nice for Roxie. We're going to take good care of her because she deserves it, she's got a lot of life left in her, thank God. We were considering giving her to a friend to care for, but I feel better keeping her and trying harder to take better care of her than I have lately. I hope she doesn't get too sad or sick from missing her buddy Balou, after all, they've always had each other. I just have to give her lots of attention now, hopefully that will happen.

Balou was a blue dumbo fancy rat, meaning, her ears were of the dumbo kind and her coat was blue. She was a sweet little rat who I enjoyed cuddling with and watching waddle around. She was always a little fatty and rather slow and cautious. She was very territorial and would sometimes nip at me, but I forgive her for that. Rest in peace, Balou. Thank you for sharing your life with me, I will remember you always.

Life

I watched 3 episodes of My So-Called Life today... we own the dvd collection... with my baby on my lap, diaperless. She has a bad diaper rash, and they say to let them go diaperless and keep the area clean to treat it. Of course, there's pee on the couch now and a pile of cloth diapers that were used to collect the poo and pee from under her. I am naked because... I'm not sure quite how I ended up naked today, perhaps it's because I'm a cow, and oh yeah pee got on my pj pants. By the way, I love every minute of my life right now. Every time I look at her my heart melts, I'm still in shock.. and oh so in love. 

Our place is a complete mess, again... even though my sister-in-law came and cleaned last week. But what should I expect, I am so not able to do anything other than care for and adore and soothe and feed and all of the above my almost 6-week-old baby girl. Thank God my wonderful husband is now with her so I can actually take a bath today. He drew me a bath! Yay! 

And yet I hear her in the other room right now, her little whimpers and coos (yes she's finally starting cooing!), and I want to drop my needs yet again and stroke her little face and hold her in the way I know she likes to be held. But if I don't care for myself, I simply cannot care for her. 

It has been the craziest past almost 6 weeks of my life. This is my first time actually writing about it because, where do I find the time? It's been a time of adjustment and trial and error and error and trial... a time of complete and utter brokenness and incredible joy. I am so thrilled to be a mom. And scared of course. The responsibility is huge! 

A woman has absolutely no idea what motherhood really truly is until she experiences it for herself. She'll never see her own mother or any other mother the same again. There is this unspoken bond that is unlike any other that I now have with every other mother. And my girl will not understand until she, if she becomes a mother. But it's something I hope she understands someday, the beauty of being not only a woman, but a woman who gives life. 

Well my boob is heavy and I need to empty it now, I mean feed Rhiannon. :) And maybe then I'll get to my bath, I hope! 

Ciao! 

Rhiannon Rua

At 9:30 pm

the wind started to blow

the clouds covered the sky

and I began my cries

Wave after wave came crashing

starting slow

only to grow

in passion

That passion began to swell within me

Flooding the doorway

of life

In holy breaking bodily

we roared

Sunrise

together born

Our baby girl, born 8/22/08 has been given a name! After spending an ecstatic and exhausting first week with her, we are able to get a sense of who she is. 

Rhiannon Rua Busch-Monahan - her first and middle names are pronounced ree-ANN-on / roo

Rhiannon is Celtic/Welsh related to the name Ryan. It means great queen, goddess, and also horse-tamer. She is a strong and passionate baby and we feel that she deserves a royal name. 

Rua means red in the Irish language. When I, Kieran, visited distant relatives in Ireland, I discovered that the Ryan clan whom I am related to were known as the "Ryan Rua". Because Ryan is such a common name, they would tag a nickname onto the end of each family's last name to distinguish them apart from the rest. This confirms that red hair is obviously a part of the family heritage. 

We are hyphenating our last names to combine them. This is similar to the Spanish tradition of the father's surname followed by the mother's surname. We want both of our surnames to be honored since they each are beautiful and full of rich heritage. 

Thank you for celebrating our wonderful daughter with us! 

James Arthur Busch

Kieran Ryan Monahan
and 

Rhiannon Rua Busch-Monahan

Ariel's therapist

Last night, as per recommended by our midwife, Jamie and I went for a free session with a "Therapist & Intuitive healer, New York State Licensed" who gives "Wholistic Birth and Family Counseling" in Nyack, NY. She came highly recommended as someone who could help us to ready ourselves as future parents, and even guide us in "meeting" and welcoming our baby now while it's in the womb. Sounded cool to us, and we were looking forward to it being a time for us to confront any issues we've been wrestling with. We were also told that this woman could relate to us spiritually even though she doesn't practice Christianity, because she is able to connect with most anyone wherever they're at spiritually. Okay, we thought, let's give it a try... after all, it's free! 

While walking to her apartment, Jamie said to me, "I hope she's not too kooky and New-Agey" to which I responded, "Oh I don't think she will be... look at her picture, she doesn't look it." 

Well. How silly of me to judge a book by its cover. 

Maybe she just felt like she could be a bit more open with us... or maybe we seemed like real "seekers" to her. Maybe that's why she decided to share a bit of her personal beliefs with us... like how there are other "beings", like us, who feel that their purpose on earth is to do service, and they don't feel like they quite belong in this world... but there will be a time when they will be able to live according to their purpose, but that time is not now, we are all in transition, the earth is in transition now.... And there are some websites that we should look up where they talk about all of this stuff... one website in particular is about this woman who is channeling the Angel, Ariel, and... 

"Ahh.. ahhhh.. ahhhh... ahhhhh... ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!" I sang. "I am the Angel Ariel, mermaid of the heavens." I confessed. And I took off my top and told her to stare into the light force of my seashells and...

Okay, I'm making that part up... 

She was sensitive enough to ask us if the part about the woman channeling the angel, Ariel, weirded us out. "Um.. yeah.. yup." we both nodded. And yet that didn't really shut her up. Actually, she periodically asked us if things she was saying "weirded us out". Sometimes we said yes, sometimes no. I wondered why she kept sharing things that could've weirded us out. 

It wasn't all bad though, it wasn't a waste of time, we definitely got something out of it all. I mean, I'm pretty take charge in therapy sessions, I don't hesitate to share my shit.  I even wept at one point, I couldn't help it, it was involuntary. And I must say, I didn't care for the way she handled it. She didn't make me feel very... safe. I think she just wanted to talk about "cosmic" things instead. 

And maybe I'm just a bit picky when it comes to therapists because I was raised by one, a very professional one. And he took us as a family to another excellent therapist while growing up, only the best for us. So I have pretty high expectations, I know a good therapist when I see one. And I know a kook when I see one. And all I saw last night was a half-baked woman that could use a good lesson on professionalism... and probably a few more therapy sessions herself. 

Surrender

I really don't like how our culture is so obsessed with this thing called a 'due date'. "When are you due?" We ask one another. We want to know everything, not knowing is just too hard. Last night, upon entering Nordstroms to get a nursing bra, I stopped to try on some reduced price headbands and heard the salesclerk say, "Wow any minute now, huh? I saw your belly before I saw you!"

"I was due two days ago! I guess the baby's running late." I responded.

"No, the baby won't be late. The baby will be right on time. It'll come exactly when it's ready."

"I like that!" I said.

Her name is Keylolo, but probably spelled different than that, and she went on to say how one of her friends has had her 6 babies at home and just pops 'em right out with no problems. Surprised to hear this, I told her how I'm actually having a homebirth, too. We agreed that our culture is quite freaked out by this, but as she said, "How do they think our ancestors delivered babies?! It was probably in the woods!" Kindred spirits much?

Yesterday, my friend, Emma, told me that she came out quite "late", around 3 weeks past her "due date". Her mother just knew she was fine and would come when she was ready, so she didn't worry herself crazy about it. This hardly ever happens in our culture because our obgyns don't "let us" (we think we have no choice in the matter) go past 2 weeks overdue before they induce us artificially for fear that the placenta will stop working. From what I've heard, the likelihood of this happening is very rare, but it's a chance our doctors really don't want to take. But what about what we want as mothers? While they're more afraid of a lawsuit, they make us afraid for our babies' lives. We all want to control our lives and the lives of our children. But really! Who are we to be in control of everything?

To be in control or to surrender. That is the question. Which is best?

Well... in order to get pregnant in the first place, one must have sex. In order to have sex, can one be in control, or does one have to surrender? Now I'm not referring to any kind of dominatrix/submissive sex roles here. Maybe we should call it something different. How about instinctual vs. logical. When monkeys have sex, it's pretty instinctual I'd say, I don't think there's any logic to it whatsoever. Well, as for me, when logic comes into the bed with my husband and I, we end up in a fight. My logic, or desire to be in control, will physically cause me to tense up... until I finally surrender, or get instinctual... or LET GO. Why? It's the law, Sphincter Law. For more on Sphincter Law read my birth bible, Ina May's Guide to Childbirth.

Throughout this pregnancy, I've had to constantly surrender to what my body is doing--growing a human.  There have been plenty of worries that have tried to creep their way into my mind concerning miscarriage, sufficient weight gain, nutrition, preterm labor, you name it... but I've had to choose to not listen to them. And time and time again, my body shows me it knows what it's doing. 

Yes, that's right. My body knows what it's doing! I ought to listen closely. 

So, in order to give birth, shouldn't I follow suit and continue to surrender? Or should I try to be in control and treat the process logically, fighting my instincts that tell me what to do? The reason I'm choosing to have a homebirth is because I want to be free to do exactly what my body tells me to do. And even with a midwife there, ultimately it won't be her calling the shots unless I ask for her help. I will be the one delivering my baby, this is how she wants it because she knows it's best. Is this the same thing as wanting to be in control? It is a form of control, but more like letting our instincts have the control rather than our minds. A mother's instincts might not make much "sense" to a nurse or doctor when the data from the monitor screen is conflicting. I wonder how well a monkey would give birth in a hospital setting where the nurses and doctors don't let it act like a monkey, but want it be civilized like the rest of us. Hm... I can't really picture a successful, completely natural childbirth with a "civilized" mother. If acting civilized were a requirement, I think some medical interventions would be necessary. When it comes down to it, I really don't think we're much different than monkeys when we let our instincts guide us.

In fact, if a monkey could speak, I wonder how well it would answer the 5 basic questions people ask pregnant women today. Let's play pretend...

The 5 Basic Pregnancy Questions: An interview with a monkey...

1. "When are you due?"

Answer: "I don't know. When it's done cooking and my body starts to smoke."

2. "Do you know what you're having? Boy or girl?"

Answer: "I don't know, other than it being a monkey."

3. "Do you have names picked out yet?

Answer: "No. How can I name someone I've never seen before?"

4. "Do you have the monkey's nursery all set up yet?"

Answer: "No. Why would I put the baby monkey in a separate area than myself until it's not a baby?"

5. "How are you feeling?"

Answer: "Rather confused with all your questions. Why do you need to know all of this?"

See a trend here? Ah civilization.

The Due Date

My due date has arrived, and it's not as exciting as I thought it would be because... I'm not in labor yet! And I have no idea when this event will occur. But I feel relieved to have the labor pool inflated and set up in our bedroom! It seriously takes up half the room, and it's a big room. My midwife was definitely mistaken, she said we had the small pool, but this cannot be the small pool. It even has cup holders, 3 of them, along the sides! I'm gonna have it made, man. I got a little worried last night when the sink adaptor didn't seem to fit onto the sink and the hose, but lo and behold it works now because Jamie is better than I at such things. :) Today certainly would be a very pleasant day to be in labor, with the cool breeze going. Yesterday would've been cool too, and despite the pressure I was getting from my mother to push that baby out before 11:59 last night, I'm afraid my baby won't have an 8-08-08 birthday after all. And no, the pressure hasn't stopped, she called this morning and asked if I had the baby yet. I said yes, it just popped out this morning because, well, it is my due date, the day it's due.

But statistically, first time laboring women do not deliver their babies until 10 days past their due date. So, we'll see how average I am. And, frankly, I could use a few more days to get our little office area organized and do some filing. And I could get into better shape by walking some more and doing some more yoga poses so that I'm pumped up for the big day. I haven't been doing any of that lately. I'm a bad pregnant woman...

...And it would be nice to go swimming again, in the ocean preferably, but anywhere would do I suppose. I've just loved swimming lately. I think the baby's gonna be a swimmer, a merbaby like it's mermaid mama. And not to brag, because well, I am a mermaid, but I find it very funny that down the shore there are few who actually swim in the ocean while I, a big ol' white preggo in a bikini, can't get enough of it! I don't go to tan, that's for sure... and it is a hassle to lather up again and again, but so worth it to be with the ocean. But I don't think it's gonna happen because it would not be fun to be in labor and in the car headed back home from the shore. Oh no.

I do have a pool in my bedroom now... but that's a sacred pool, not to be used for leisure, but only for my baby's immersion into this world and out of my body. I think I'm going to print out some mermaid pictures to post on my wall around the pool for inspiration during labor. I'll never get too old to pretend to be a mermaid in the water... even while in labor. I wonder what else I could put up for inspiration... maybe big words of encouragement, like "Open", "Surrender", "The stronger it feels, the better it works"...etc.

Okay, I gotta go, the baby wants me to go for a walk now...

O Holy Watermelon

Before I continue to go about my day, which I have started a bit late for a few good reasons (1. I am 38 weeks pregnant, 2. I woke up late, 3. food and sleep are my current vocations), I would like to honor the Almighty Watermelon. 

If I could find my camera I would have a picture to share of the remains... from my watermelon binge at dawn... 5:45 this morning to be exact. They were remarkable I must say, comparable to a leg of lamb. I think some might think I am eating too much watermelon, that I'm some kind of fanatic or radical. Call me what you like, but I can only testify to what I have tasted, the satisfaction I have found. 

O Holy Watermelon, You wake me from my sleep, you call to me out of the depths of the ground from which you grow... and I must obey. No matter what craving I have, you quench it. I had a craving for potato chips, but we had none, so I ate of your fruit and the craving was gone. You're all that's on my mind, your sweet crunchy watery goodness is all that I could ask for. I could sing your praises alone, but I know there are many who would join me, pregnant and non-pregnant alike. Thank you for the satisfaction you bring to me, and to all. Amen. 

Right here

Lately my mind's been buzzing with all the practicalities of preparing for this homebirth, getting our home in order since we just moved to a 2-bedroom, and I find that I've been forgetting that I'm doing this all for my baby who is.... right here in my belly. Last night, I couldn't turn my mind off when suddenly my baby's feet started pushing on my belly so hard that I peered down and saw the protrusion, and it was like I woke up. "Hi!" I said to my baby for the first time in a while, it's little yet strong feet respond to my greeting and I rub them through my skin and uterus. I feel tears behind my eyes and a bit sad that I seem to forget how close my baby is to me. 

I cannot wrap my mind or heart around this. I really can't even find the right words to describe how big this feels to me. It's like God, it's like having God in my belly - where do you begin to try to reach out or connect or express  yourself without sounding trite and irreverent? Yet here I've been preparing and doing doing doing things for this baby, like I'm doing things for God and not realizing He's with me, my baby is with me... now. It's not even something I can prepare myself for, the moment I will meet my baby. I can foresee a flood of tears and overwhelming joy- like I'm meeting God, only not quite. 

What a gift! To be given a brand new person that is all yours, and also not yours, but its own - how incredible. And it'll look like me, and like him, and not be us. And when we meet, it won't be for the first time, because we've been connected for a while now, more connected than I can grasp. When we meet, maybe this will all make sense, or maybe it won't. It's so personal, and here I am journaling for whoever to read. But I'm not gonna shrug this off, I'm not too proud or tough to stand in awe, to feel and say how it feels. What a gift, that can be given to almost anyone. And yet, it feels like it's only happening to me and has never happened to anyone before.

Without words, we've been communicating all along, and I think my baby's better at it than I am. I limit what I call communication because I think too much. Maybe it'll be like meeting someone again who I knew in a dream or a past life... like, oh it's you! Or, don't we know each other? Wasn't it you who has been eating everything I eat, feeling what I feel, hanging out with my insides, and head-butting my pelvis? And it's you for whom these breasts were created and this milk is trickling out for. You, not he or she... you. You're right here, baby. 

Baby Butterfly

A baby has been born in our midst! Not the one in my womb, the one in my kitchen- a monarch butterfly.

This morning it must have hatched from its chrysalis when we were still asleep. Last night we stood in awe, the wings of the butterfly fully visible through the transparent chrysalis. Little did we know what we'd awake to find.

Trina Paulus gave us this monarch caterpillar. Twenty years ago, she wrote the famous book, Hope for the Flowers a tale for adolescents and adults alike, about caterpillars, life, revolution, and so much more. To this day, her home in Montclair is a home for these fabulous creatures- monarchs. When Jamie comes home from work, we plan on bringing our new friend back to Trina's yard on Elm Street- a monarch sanctuary where it can mate and lay its eggs on one of the many milkweed plants that grow. It is a female monarch, with her characteristic thick black stripes. Males have thin black stripes and two black dots on the bottoms of each lower wing.
The reason the chrysalis is suspended by a thread on a hook in our kitchen is that it fell from its silk string that it spun. Why? Because I was fooling with it out of concern for the position it suspended itself in, I was worried that it wouldn't have sufficient room in the plastic container to form its wings and unhatch unless it was hanging from the top rather than the side. But I was wrong, I've read that it could've grown and hatched fine in the position it put itself in. So it fell because of me and I followed some instructions I found online to suspend it from a thread, and I thought the hook in our kitchen looked like a good spot for it. It's been fun having it hang in such a random spot.

The butterfly has flown, I was there when it took flight from the chrysalis after hanging on it for a while. It was cool to have it perch on my hand a few times, too. I'd love to keep her, and perhaps find her a mating partner and milkweed to lay eggs on. But I've got another baby that's due to arrive soon.

You give and take away

Ninety-four years of life
then death
now life eternal
Babies I've made mine
are leaving me
And I am not the same anymore

It is a season of much change
Death and dying, loss and letting go...
and a strong tide of the new, currents from afar
here and coming still
I could be swept away by the undercurrents
and I could drown in sorrow
But winter is nearly over, and spring is waiting with its fruit

Spring is waiting with its fruit
My breasts ready, heavy
A land flowing with milk and honey
I am and will be

Trina gave us monarch caterpillars
one died, the other now a chrysalis
suspended by a thread
morphing before my eyes

So how can I drown when I know that death is not the end?
If I choose to drown in sorrow, I will also drown in joy -
for they meet as one
I am seeing that death must always precede new life
Suffering before celebration
Labor before birth

If I cannot accept the going, how can I accept the coming?
As I feel this sorrow, I am kicked from inside by love
As I swallow my food, I am not merely taking, but am giving
giving to new life, this new life given to me
For I am we

A baby, all mine, nestled closer than any other
close as my heart
connected by a cord
Morphing mother and child
our hearts beat life life life

the mermaids

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think they will sing to me. 
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves. 
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black. 
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown. 

 ~ T.S. Eliot