2015

There are only about 8 hours left in 2015. I want to reflect on the year before heading out to ring in the new one. I'm using this article as a guide, making some lists and writing some letters.

Accomplishments:
- I got accepted into the highly competitive nursing program at KSU.
- I began the nursing program at KSU.
-I learned a ton and got straight A's my first semester of nursing school.
-I kept my children in my (superior) school district after a long battle over it with their dad.
-I created/achieved healthier and safer boundaries for my children in our joint custody situation.
-I bravely engaged in some difficult conversations.
-I made a number of new friends, including one former enemy.
-We started the "marble system" with tasks and rewards for the kids, and family meetings to talk about areas of growth as "thoughtful earthlings." They have grown so much.
-We transformed our yard into a pretty cool place to hang out.
-I planned a kickass surprise party with many close friends and family members in attendance and ASKED KAYLA TO MARRY ME.
-She said, "Yes, of course," so I am engaged!
-I got at least 300 compliments on my hair.

Disappointments or Setbacks:
-The lawsuit my ex filed against me in June 2014 is Still. Not. Over.
-I suddenly had a hip injury and nerve problems, and I was in pain and limping for over a month.
-The lavender I planted did not survive.
-I did not play basketball as often as I wanted to.
-Some people close to me caused me a great deal of hurt/stress.

Lessons learned from setbacks:
-When I feel weak, it might be that I'm actually stronger, just carrying more.
-My ex is a deeply broken person, and I will never know the extent of his dishonesty.
-My losses are not as terrible as they first feel.
-I need to strengthen my core.
-Stretching and hydrating work wonders.
-Lavender needs more sun.
-Dynamics change, and that's okay. Don't try to get back to how things were, but create a new normal.
-Let go, let go, let go!

Now that I've made these lists, I will write and burn a few letters as an act of forgiveness, gratitude, and letting go of past hurt. Thank you, 2015, for more growth and memories. Peace out!

Lighten Up

Here is a Pema Chödrön quote from Comfortable with Uncertainty that I wrote in the first page of my journal, a little over a year ago:

"If we have the aspiration to stop resisting those parts of ourselves that we find unacceptable and instead begin to breathe them in, this gives us much more space. We come to know every part of ourselves, with no more monsters in the closet, no more demons in the cave. We have some sense of turning on the lights and looking at ourselves honestly and with great compassion. This is the fundamental change of attitude - this working with pain and pleasure in a revolutionary and courageous way."

What a challenge! One that I wanted to take on--turn on the lights, so that there are no more monsters in the closet or demons in the cave. Not easy or fast or fun. I am slowly working on it; the aspiration is there.

Now I am reading Chödrön's Start Where You Are, and she says we've got warmth and brilliance right here, despite whatever darkness is around. Her first bit of advice is to lighten up. As in, relax. So, I'm integrating these thoughts of turning on the lights and lightening up. Yeah, it's hard work to look at ourselves honestly, but we can relax a bit, knowing that we've got this warmth and brilliance going on too. It's winter now, gets dark uncomfortably early, but I've got twinkle lights plugged in and firewood at the ready, not to mention cozy blankets, roasted vegetables, and family.

Big Magic

I'm about a third of the way through Elizabeth Gilbert's latest book Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. Her writing, particularly Eat, Pray, Love, has meant so much to me (and millions of other readers). I don't know if she has changed or if I have--well, both, duh--but the book is not resonating with me yet. I think that a combination of studying so much science the past few years and the tremendous load of stress I've borne has taken some of my woo-woo ways away. I miss my woo-woo ways.

After I left Christianity, I still very much valued spirituality. During a great and difficult period of personal growth in my early 30s, I always thought of my process as a benevolent one. I would repeat to myself and my journal, "This is a benevolent process. This is a benevolent process," and it would bring me comfort. There were obviously unknown powers at work in my life. I don't know if I believe that anymore. I'm agnostic about my agnosticism. I wonder if my journey is still a benevolent process, if I can still hold on to that comforting thought.

Recently, I came to a comforting conclusion: yes, this is a benevolent process because I choose it to be so. I, Jenny, bestow kindness, compassion, and well meaning onto my life, my journey, and my processes. So, in the future, when I'm not feeling kind toward myself, or when I'm in the thick of stress/depression/loneliness/____________ (insert difficult feeling), I will be held in the kindness I now choose.

The world is made up of matter and energy, much of it and its interactions still unknown. That is mysterious unknown power. Big magic even? I look forward to the rest of Gilbert's book, and the light it might shed on my journey.

A Thrill of Hope

It's Christmas 2015, warm but rainy here in Georgia. The day started with such joy, as I heard the kids whispering with excitement in the living room at 6 o'clock. Stella made the coffee, and then the four of them rang their bells outside our bedroom door to wake us up. Opening presents was a blast, then lots of family came over with more presents, and then we ate super delicious vegetables and played with our new toys. I took a brief nap, followed by a brief walk, and now I'm damp but comfortable in the post-Christmas living room mess.

Different lyrics from different Christmas songs stick out to me each Christmas, whether it's realizing that Baby, It's Cold Outside is about date rape, making a joke about donning our gay apparel, or watching in wonder at the kids' "eyes all aglow" as they prepare to go to bed on Christmas Eve. On my walk this afternoon, I was thinking about the words "a thrill of hope" from O Holy Night. I was thinking that I sure would like to feel a thrill of hope.

I have so much to be hopeful about. I successfully completed my first semester of nursing school. What was a faraway dream will be a concrete reality before I know it. I'm engaged to be married to a wise, loving woman who is a true partner and witness in my life. Our kids are so thoughtful, smart, fun, creative, and joyful. They are going places - interesting places where they will solve problems, lead others, create art, and experience the world. Hope!

But no thrill of it. I'm thrill-seeking.

You Have No Idea

Tara has left a new comment on your post "Betty's Birth Story": 

Noticeably absent is a loving father who would have loved to have been there. It is sad when a mother's hate for her ex-husband is greater than her love for her children. This blog proves that is how you feel. You put your interests above your children. I feel sorry for your girls. 

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The above comment came to me for approval yesterday, LOL. Let's break it down...

First: Tara. I have known a couple of Tara's in my life, but I don't think I know this Tara, if that is truly the name of the person commenting. For all I know, "Tara" could be my ex-husband or one of his family members or friends. Let's give them the benefit of the doubt, since using a fake name is cowardly, and assume this is a woman named Tara whom I do not know. 

Since I do not know her, I will further assume that she does not know me. She does not know me, but she has found my blog, read at least this one post I wrote two years ago, and felt compelled to comment on it. 

Third assumption: she knows my ex-husband. Her language sounds strikingly similar to the narrative on his various online money/sympathy-seeking pages. Come to think of it, I wouldn't be surprised if Tara found this blog because he put a link to it on one of his sites, as if it proves he is some kind of victim. (When the predator presents himself as the victim, it's called manipulation.)

Okay, so, on to the comments you felt compelled to leave on my two-year-old blog post, Tara...

"Noticeably absent is a loving father..." 
Yes! So true. There was indeed a loving father absent from my pregnancy, birth, and postpartum period. 

"...who would have loved to have been there."
My ex-husband chose his mistress over his family, plain and simple. He gave up the privilege of seeing our baby born when he gave up on me in the middle of my pregnancy, cheating and lying yet again. I could not and would not allow an unsafe, unsupportive presence in that hospital room. Love and support only as Betty made her entrance into the world!

"It is sad when a mother's hate for her ex-husband is greater than her love for her children."
While my hate is quite strong, it does not begin to approach the extent to which I love my children. You do not know me, Tara, and you have no idea how much I love my kids. I am CERTAIN that I know my story better than you do. Your comments are based on a one-sided, false narrative. (When the bad guy thinks he's the good guy, it's called delusion.) I assure you, Tara, that this little moment of sadness you've experienced as a result of my story is nothing compared to the months of sleepless nights I spent sobbing, praying that the distress caused by my abusive, habitually lying and cheating husband would not harm my unborn baby as she grew inside me.

"This blog proves that is how you feel." 
How's that now? "This blog" is a birth story about an amazing, natural labor and delivery, about the power of genuine care, and about Betty's welcome into a tribe of women who tend to each other and fight for authentic, joyful lives. Tara, there is always room in the tribe if you want to trade your blindfold for truth.

"You put your interests above your children."
As I stated above, I prioritized Betty's interests by making sure she was born in an environment of honest love and support. Also, my children are my interest. I shield them from the painful truth of how their father behaved and continues to behave, and focus on filling their lives with love, curiosity, and good ol' goofy fun. 

"I feel sorry for your girls." 
I feel safe in assuming that you do not know my girls well, if at all. They are incredible, and in need of no pity. Pity is something we feel for people we do not know or love. I pity you, Tara, and I pity my ex, for delusional superiority and pathetic claims to victimhood; but I do not for a second pity my children or myself, because we are filled with and surrounded by SO MUCH JOY AND LOVE.

Thank you, Tara, for taking the time to read and comment on this old blog. Your ridiculous statements have reminded me what a fantastic mother I am, how clear my conscience is, and how grateful I am that my ex-husband is absent from my story. Oh, and I do love re-reading this birth story; it was truly amazing to witness Betty's first moments of life.

Thankslisting 2014

I've been listing thanks on this blog for a number of years, so even though I rarely post anymore, I'm popping in because I enjoy this annual exercise. This year I'm thankful for:

1. A sweet Christmas morning with my three girls in my basement apartment by my twinkle light tree. (I will always think of that home in my parents' home with gratitude and nostalgia.)

2. A new home with year-round twinkle lights, fires inside and out, vegetables roasting daily, kittens, a park across the street, and most importantly...

3. A true, loving, exciting partnership with a wise, smart, beautiful, authentic woman.

4. Silver rings and yes tattoos.

5. A boy. A sweet, crazy, noodie-head 3-year-old boy.

6. Chemistry, Mathematical Modeling, Lifespan Developmental Psychology, Anatomy & Physiology, American History, Statistics, more Anatomy & Physiology, Microbiology, Organic Chemistry and a 4.0.

7. Summer in the water: slides at the aquatic center, tubing down the Chattahoochee River, splash pads, pools, squirt guns, you name it.

8. A wonderful school nearby school where the big kids are thriving--Students of the Month, parts in the play, morning news anchor, Reading Bowl, new friends, great teachers, daily enthusiasm.

9. Kickass home videos to remember all our awesome parties. (password: kayla)

10. Indigo Girls at the Botanical Gardens on my birthday.

11. Café con leche in Miami.

12. Quiet weekends studying at coffee shops.

13. Loud weekends with so many kids and so much joy.

What I want is to have in life right now is 1) fun with my kids, 2) connection with my partner, 3) wonder at science as I study, and 4) good times with friends. I have all those things, and I am so thankful for it--it's just all the shitty extra stuff I don't want. Life is never that simple.

1) My kids have been SO happy lately, so much fun. In the past month, my oldest, in particular, has been so full of joy, bringing me so much joy. She is constantly creating things or riding her bike on mini adventures. My baby is chatting away these days, and running around the room singing "Let It Go" repeatedly. My middle has so much love in her heart, regularly expressing it with cards or pictures or journal entries. They are wonderful. I've had a fresh dose of missing them every day they're not here with me. For the most part, joint custody works out great, giving me the breaks that I need as a student and individual. And, if you don't know, I've got this other kid in my life now, a three-year-old boy who is crazy as all get out and will hide behind trees with me and jump out to surprise his mom till the sun goes down. Fun with kids!

2) I've been in a relationship with Kayla for over a year now and moved in with her a few months ago. I enjoy her so much. At the end of our crazy days, it's just me and her. She's not my "girlfriend" or my "paramore" as some have said; she's my partner in every way, and I can't say enough about how good it feels to be in a true partnership with mutual respect and admiration and helpfulness. Plus we have these awesome matching tattoos.

3) This semester I'm taking Microbiology and Organic Chemistry, my final prerequisites for the nursing program. Being a nurse is still this faraway thing, this vague goal that I can't feel right now. But I trust it's coming--a career in which I get to tend to people in such a practical way. In just a few years, I'll be sporting scrubs and stories from the bedside. For now, I get to marvel at the way carbon joins with hydrogen in all these configurations and at the realization that there are bajillions of microscopic organisms all over the place--all this life we can't even see! This world is fascinating!

4) I have not been at a loss for friendships. I've got old friends and new friends to share dinner with, or a movie or brunch or kayaking or a chat at the bus stop or whatever. That be a blessin', y'all.

5) Shitty extra stuff, mainly shitty ex- stuff. Ugh, that guy.

Letting Go, Moving into a Larger World

Posted by Clarissa Pinkola Estes on FB, 4/7/14.....
 

Dear Brave Souls: LETTING GO

To let go.
Some have a hard time
letting go of what is no longer,
what cannot be, what is not,
what has never been.

People say
'just let go,
just let go,
just let go'
scattering the platitude like confetti
immediately swept away by any wind.

What is it exactly, this letting go?
No longer allowing the eye
to be caught by the hook...
No longer fastening the lock on the door,
just letting the door swing as it will...
No longer visiting the graves
where there is no love
and no blessing in both directions...
No longer reviewing and reviewing the past,
even the last moment,
as though there will be a test.
There will not be a test, dear soul.

What is it exactly,
this letting go?

Not reading the same chapter over and over
and over and over, futilely attempting
to make the indelible facts be rewritten…
Making new memories of quality
to bathe old scars and new life...
Moving into a larger world
in which the past
is but a dot on the landscape
rather than the only continent in sight.

We all find our ways…
letting go is shaking loose,
letting go is turning
in your great coat, into a new wind
forward into new sky and open road
leaving what cannot be,
and taking all treasure
from the wreck.

Each in her own way.
Each in his own way.

This comes with love. Hang in there. No one deserves to be nailing the hem of their cloak to the crossroad that once was, but that is not now.

Continuan…
dr.e

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!

Thankslisting 2013

Man, looking back at last year's list of thanks, I remember how depressed I was, pregnant and suddenly faced with planning a divorce.  That depression, though, was kind of like a metal spring being pressed down in order for it to bounce up into the air and fulfill its purpose as a spring (by definition a resilient device.)  Now it's Thanksgiving 2013, and I am one high-flying spring.  This year I AM SO THANKFUL FOR...


1.  Betty's birth.  Best birth I could possibly imagine.  Melanie, Pam, Guina, Anjli.  And Betty herself!  What a kid.  I am thankful for every moment with this sweet baby.

2.  My mom & dad.  Without hesitation, they welcomed me and my three kids into their home, clearing out space and creating sanctuary during my biggest hour of need.

3.  These words from a county Superior Court judge: "I shall restore to you your name, Jenny Ruth Belk."  And from the ensuing documents "...held and considered as separate and distinct persons altogether unconnected by any nuptial union or civil contract whatsoever."  Then came the dancing in the driveway, and Beyonce's words: "You must not know about me..."

4.  My amazingly fantastic magical curious wise joyful loving growing brave and confident kids.  They are more than okay; they are living arrows that fly.  (Also very thankful for their school teachers.)

5.  Rachel.  My BFF.  A constant support with a Yes-To-Life attitude.  Kayaking, rock climbing, tennis, fires, kites, Can you come out to play?

6.  Sacred Women's Circle and Authentic Intuitive Movement.

7.  Valerie.  New York City--so nice, I went there twice.  Sit & Wonder.  Everything Will Be Okay.  Sometimes there are no rules.

8.  Favorite haircut ever.

9.  David Sacks.  This dear friend died way too young.  So thankful for his life, so thankful I knew him.

10.  Road trip to San Antonio with my kids, my dad, and my sister, Amy.  Played Yahtzee with my 92-year-old grandma, took Rosie to get her ears pierced (I, too, got my ears pierced when I was 6-years-old in Texas with my aunt), hung out on the roof, ate tacos for breakfast, sipped on Brown coffee, saw the old family sites and heard the old family stories, reclaimed Belk roots.  Texas forever!

11. The increasing ability to recognize bullshit and call it what it is.  (Remember that song I wrote, "I will find my voice?"  I did.)

12.  Kennesaw State University.  The time came to pursue my nursing dream after all these years; I began classes in August.  I love, love, love being a student again.

13.  Kayla.  Lucky '13.  An unlikely meeting and unexpected love.


Happy Thanksgiving, dear ones!  I hope you get an extra dollop of whipped cream on your pumpkin pie.  If you're into whipped cream.  Maybe you'd rather have an extra pat of butter for your roll, or gravy for your taters.  Whatever you love, I wish you bounteous amounts.

The Kids

On Children

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, 'Speak to us of Children.' 
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

~Khalil Gibran

My kids are not mine.  They belong to no one but themselves.  They are individuals with their own thoughts and their own souls.  I get the privilege of nurturing them and witnessing their lives.  These thoughts are helpful to me as I've let go of some time/involvement/influence with them this past year. How are the kids through all this?  The kids are living arrows that fly, and we have so much gladness between us.

Joy is a Flame

My, oh my, this was not the year for blogging.  This was the year for getting my act together...my Act II.  I don't know what will become of this blog, but I know what will become of me.  Increasing joy,  always.  Here's what Sara Teasdale says about joy:

The Answer

When I go back to earth
And all my joyous body
Puts off the red and white
That once had been so proud,
If men should pass above
With false and feeble pity,
My dust will find a voice
To answer them aloud:

"Be still, I am content,
Take back your poor compassion--
Joy was a flame in me
Too steady to destroy.
Lithe as a bending reed
Loving the storm that sways her--
I found more joy in sorrow
Than you could find in joy."


Damn straight, joy is a flame in me.  While all our feelings lead us on our way, joy is my favorite guide.  Favorite and faithful.  My way right now, my so-called second act, includes college, learning more and more about motherhood, letting go of old shit, leaning in to new love.  I am so much more than content.

Divo: First Month

Having a baby, moving, and getting a divorce sure put a blog on the back burner.  Need some tending, blog dear?  A stir?  A dash of salt?

I've officially been divorced for over a month.  I have an ex-husband now--how grown up of me.  It was a transformative moment when the judge pronounced, "I shall restore to you your name."  I got my name back, and you bet your sweet bippy I got my Self back.  Stifled for so long!  Undervalued and uncared for.  This is Act II.  I get to create--from the pain, disappointment, and anger--something new, authentic, and joyful.  I have created a living space that fits that description.  I'm gaining my strength back, physically and in other ways.  Running again.  Journaling as usual.  I've been feeling what I feel, noting what I feel, and starting to heal.  I'm using my divorce as a spiritual journey.  The feelings and circumstances surrounding it are here to REAWAKEN me.  The process I'm going through is a holy one, divinely inspired to bring about a positive change in my life.  My pain is a sacred emotion, allowing me to discover who I really am and go places I would not go on my own!  If not for this divorce, I would not be able to go where I'm going, on this spiritual journey to a nourishing life. 

I borrowed those last phrases from Spiritual Divorce by Debbie Ford.  I picked it up randomly from the library, and I totally dig it.  It's a challenge though, full of "healing actions."  The first step on my journey is to actively deal & heal.  I'm no good to my self, my kids, or anyone else if I skip this step.  Of course I'll be dealing & healing in different ways my whole life, but for now it's the primary focus.  Step two?  Get on an airplane?  There are so many steps to look forward to, but I won't get tripped up on those now.  One by one to feel five by five.

We Meet Challenges

"The wild nature teaches that we meet challenges as they occur. When wolves are badgered, they don't say, "Oh no! Not again!" They bound, pounce, run, dive, scramble, play dead, go for the throat, whatever needs to be done. So we cannot be shocked that there is entropy, deterioration, hard times. Let us understand that the issues that entrap women's joy will always shift and shape-change, but in our own essential natures we find the absolute stamina, the necessary libido for all necessary acts of heart."

~Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves

Steps to Deconversion

I drafted this post six months ago, just before all the personal revelations and anger.   The subject came up again, so I decided to publish it now. 

..........................

After a recent conversation with someone struggling with her faith, I realized there are a lot of Christians out there who are not quite sure they are Christians anymore.  If you have followed my blog for a few years, you know that at the beginning of 2009 I confessed that I no longer believed the things I grew up believing.  I let go of the Christianity I so passionately followed for almost thirty years and began a journey guided by inner wisdom.  Four years later, I can say that I feel more peace and joy now than I ever did.  My life does not look a lot different on the outside, but I feel transformed.  I thought it might be helpful for some if I posted a short guide to deconversion--some advice, from my experience, for people whose long-held faith no longer rings true.

If you are happy in your Christian faith, I respect your commitment.  There is no need for you to read this post, as it is not intended for you.  If you feel compelled to read on, I ask that you respect my beliefs as I do yours.

What do I call this list...Jenny's 10 Steps to Deconversion?  Things to Keep in Mind during your Faith Crisis?  Notes from the Dark Side (which is Refreshingly Bright!)?  Something like that.  You get the idea.  Again, I stress that this comes from my experience.  Take what is helpful; leave the rest. 

1.  Tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth.  You might be tempted to deny what you are thinking, to bury your doubts and hope they go away.  But they keep coming back.  There is no benefit in lying to yourself.  Admit to yourself what you are thinking and feeling.  This processing phase is difficult and can be kept private.  Write in a journal, talk to a therapist, or dialogue with yourself while driving.  Just tell the truth.

2.  Be curious and gentle with your thoughts.  Your true thoughts might scare you and cause you confusion and guilt.  Try to be curious with these thoughts.  Acknowledge what you are thinking and feeling without judgment.

3.  Embrace uncertainty.  You may feel uncomfortable without a defined faith or like-minded community.  Uncertainty is natural.  Mystery is a given.  You are on a journey and you don't need all the answers all at once.  You will know what you need to know when you need to know it.

4.  Relax.  This is a benevolent process.  You are discovering your authentic beliefs and uncovering what is already inside you, desperate for you to acknowledge.  That is a good thing.

5.  Relax.  Be gentle with yourself if you feel guilty or scared.  You don't believe in hell anymore, remember?

6.  Relax.  You do not have to announce your thoughts to the world.  You do not have to tell every Christian you've ever met that you are no longer a Christian. 

7.  If/when you do share your change of beliefs with people, be ready for mixed reactions: some sadness, some judgment, some prayer for you, some kindness, some openness, and some surprising agreement.  Respect people like you want to be respected.  Golden Rule still applies!

8.  Grieve your loss of creed and community.  This is a difficult transition.  There is loss.

9.  Find what truly resonates.  Glean from what you are reading and experiencing.  When something rings true, you feel it.  When something is bullshit, you know it.  Hold on to what resonates within, whether it is from the Bible or an episode of Buffy.  There is truth everywhere.

10.  Enjoy the peace and joy that come from acknowledging and honoring what you truly believe.  Enjoy being your authentic self!

I have come to find some powerful wisdom and authentic spirituality in my post-Christian life, which I am happy to share if you're interested.  And if you're interested, here is a list of books that helped me during my transformation:

The Dance of the Dissident Daughter, Sue Monk Kidd
Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert
Steering by Starlight, Martha Beck
Women Who Run with the Wolves, Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Leaving the Saints, Martha Beck
Kitchen Table Wisdom, Rachel Naomi Remen


Again, take what is helpful; leave the rest.  I'll conclude with the words of Martha Beck: "Don't worry about losing your way. If you do, pain will remind you to find your path again. Joy will let you know when you are back on it."  Much love, seekers.

The Other Story

Thanks for reading my birth story!  It was fun to write and relive that sacred night.

The other story is not as fun to write, and I certainly don't ever want to relive it.  Besides preparing for birth and having a baby, I have spent the last six months in disbelief, anger, and insomnia, preparing for a divorce.  The final court hearing is just a couple of days away.

I want to write about it, but I'm not sure what I want to say right now.  I'll include all the sordid details in the memoir I'm writing.  In 2009, a difficult year, Joel and I sang "This is not the end" along with Laura Gibson in a poignant moment at The Earl.  For fifteen years we claimed we were made for each other.  Laura was right at that time, but this is the end, and if we were ever truly MFEO, we are no longer. I grieve this, and honestly, at this point I celebrate it. 

Last month I moved in with my parents, who have been heroically helpful and an inspiring example of genuine love.  My whole family and dear circle of friends have been holding my hand through this fiery tunnel of hell, supporting me every step of the way.  Even as my marriage is ending, I see what true love looks like and feel it deeply.

What now?  Now I get to practice some radical self-care, create a whole new life, and love my three babies like nobody's business.  This is the beginning of my best story yet.

Betty's Birth Story

Below is the sacred story of my third daughter's birth. This is a precious and personal story, and I trust you will read it with respect for me and for her. This story took place during the most difficult time in my life, having discovered in my second trimester that my husband was cheating on me (yet again). Despite his cruel abandonment, with the love and support of family and friends, I was given the gift of this tremendous birth experience. Painful as childbirth was, it was a respite during that terrible season of my life.

*****

Betty Magnolia was born on January 14th at 6:58 a.m.  Her birth was one of the most amazing, powerful experiences of my life.  The most, actually.  My first two births brought out my babies, but they were not ideal (the second, in fact, was a traumatic C-Section).  This birth, the charming third time, was ideal.

In the weeks leading up to my due date (January 5th), my belly measured smaller instead of bigger.  That happened in my first pregnancy, too, which prompted an early induction.  But thankfully, this time around I was under the care of providers who trust in birth and believe in women, so even when it was a week past my due date and my fluid level was decreasing, they did not intervene.  They monitored, asked me what my intuition told me, and advised me simply to take a bath and talk with my baby.  I felt that my baby was safe and strong.

I did a lot of walking, a good bit of living room dancing, and even squats.  I ate Scalini's famous Eggplant Parmesan.  I felt things stirring, felt my body getting ready.  On Sunday, January 13th, I tucked my daughters into bed and lay on the couch to watch Tina & Amy host the Golden Globe Awards.  I was having contractions somewhat regularly.  Suddenly I heard Stella, my 9-year-old, in the bathroom, and I rushed upstairs to help her as she began to throw up.  To think I was in labor while tending to my vomiting child--motherhood's multitasking!  My contractions became stronger and more regular.  Around 11:30 p.m., I called my sister Melanie, my birth partner, and told her I wanted her with me.  She came posthaste and helped me time contractions.  Just after midnight, standing in my bedroom, my water broke.  Oh glorious gush of water!  I knew this was true labor, and I couldn't help but laugh.  Over the next hour my contractions grew more intense, and I told Melanie it was time to go to the hospital.  She called our two doula friends, Pam and Guina, and our midwife friend, all of whom planned to attend the birth.  Anjli, the midwife, was not even on call that night, but she met us at the hospital, literally at the door to the labor & delivery ward, and walked me to my room.

Pam and Guina arrived and got right to work setting the mood.  They hung string lights, arranged battery-powered candles around the room, displayed the quilt from my Blessingway, and wafted lemon essential oil through the air.  Melanie got the iPod going.  I sported my orange tank top and Blessingway necklace for power and support.  Anjli determined that my cervix was 4 centimeters dilated.  And so, I labored.  The hospital staff, including nurses, barely showed their faces, as I was in the presence and care of some of Atlanta's most heroic birth professionals.  Melanie Nasmyth, along with being my beloved sister and birth warrior times four, is a certified doula and active member of the birth community.  Pam Roe and Guina Bixler, dear friends, are two of the most experienced doulas and birth teachers in the Metro area.  Since Anjli was not on call, she stayed in the room through the entire process.  Heroes, I tell you!  I contracted; they held me, held space for me.  Guina guided my breathing: Breathe in, down around Betty, and out.  The guided breathing was out-of-this-world helpful for getting through those intense contractions.  Melanie and I tried a little dancing and singing.  I labored in the shower for a long time.  I started getting nervous about having to push at some point in the near future.  There was no escape!  And then I knew it was time to fill up the tub.

My legs were so tired from standing most of the night.  Sitting in the pool of warm water brought relief, and I actually fell asleep for some of those 30 second breaks between contractions.  Even thirty seconds of rest eases the process!  Soon my body knew to get up onto my hands and knees. Throughout that night, through those hours of labor, it did not feel like a hospital or a medical event.  Anjli never checked my cervix again.  My noises showed my progress.  My body led the process.  On my hands and knees, I knew it was nearing time to push.  Melanie and Guina were in front of me, looking me in the eyes and offering encouragement.  Pam was behind me giving counter-pressure (SO helpful.)  Anjli was next to Pam observing, encouraging, and letting me know Betty's head was coming down.

Back story... A month or two earlier, as I was reading Women Who Run With the Wolves, I thought, "Wouldn't it be cool if there was a wolf at my birth?"  As soon as I thought it, I knew, in the way that we know things, that there would be a wolf present.  Not literally, but the energy, the spirit, the archetype.  I pictured a wolf in the hospital room, supporting me and Betty.  I texted my sisters saying there would be a wolf at my birth, and they responded, "Huh?"

In the birthing pool, on my hands and knees, I felt the pressure of my baby's head.  It was time to push, and I was afraid of the pain.  I started growling.  And as I pushed through every contraction from then on, I growled a low, primal growl unlike any noise I have ever made.  I just growled and growled through the pain until Anjli said, "Reach down and catch your baby!" 

I was the wolf.

I reached down and caught Betty, bringing her up out of the water and into my arms.  I could not believe I did it.  She was here!  With all this dark hair!  Safe and strong.  No interventions, but the all-natural, normal process of birth.  Mother and baby working together, surrounded by a group of loving, supportive women.  I cried and I laughed, and I said to Betty, "Welcome to the tribe."  I sat in the pool for a long time, holding her in wonder.

She weighed 6 pounds, 13 1/2 ounces and measured 19 1/2 inches long.  She never had jaundice, which I was expecting since the other girls had it.  She has gained weight like a champion, nursing instinctively from the start.  At night, she nurses and falls back to sleep.  Now she is six weeks old, more alert each day, and starting to melt my heart with her smiles.  Betty Magnolia, Betty Boop, Betty Blue Eyes, Little Bette...my charming third.

*If you notice something (someone) missing from this story, well, that is another birth story, still in process.  Death and rebirth, really.  It hurts like hell, but I am surrounded by a loving, supportive tribe, and now I know from experience that I am strong and capable.  As in labor, so in life.

Some Final Thoughts

The year is almost over.  The world too?  Doesn't feel like the world is going to end today, but you never know.  It's constantly changing, that's for sure.  There's a never-ending life-death-life cycle.  Pema Chodron says to "...know we are always in transition, that the only time is now, and that the future is completely unpredictable and open."  I don't know about you, but that leaves me comforted/hopeful and scared at the same time.  Or comforted/hopeful sometimes and scared other times.  

This year I have focused on fear and fearlessness, "fearless" being my word of the year.  What I have come to realize is that we can move through and past many fears.  So many of them are bogus, based on false beliefs, but still there to deal with none-the-less.  We cannot ignore fear.  We can try, but it will keep coming up until we deal.  

"The only way to the Place beyond Fear is to do the thing you fear most.  This is how to surrender to your best destiny." ~Martha Beck

I have found it helpful to specifically determine my biggest, deepest fears.  To imagine them and envision how I would cope.  Not fun, painful in fact, but helpful.  And inevitably, by choosing a word of the year like fearless, I have actually had to face some of my biggest fears.  Not a fun word of the year!  Next year's will be less intense. 

Conclusion: I may never be fearless, but by goddess, I will be brave and determined.  Come hell or high water, end of the world or its sometimes tedious persistence...I am strong, I am woman, hear me howl!

Blessingway

On Sunday evening my mom and sister hosted a Blessingway for me.  Sooooo sooo so much better than a baby shower.  Instead of collecting clothespins and guessing baby food flavors, this group of amazing women gathered and blessed me, my baby, and my birth.  (There was still delicious finger food, don't worry.)  Each person read a poem or said a few words of affirmation to me and presented me with a bead, describing why they chose that particular bead.  The beads will all be made into a necklace for me to wear and remember their support. 

Readers, I cannot tell you how beautiful their words were.  Each woman there, ranging from 30 years old to 60 and representing different life, birth, and faith experiences, said something that made me feel so loved, made me know my baby is already loved, and empowered me as a mother and soon-to-be birth warrior.  Such an amazing feeling! 

Then they all put their hands on me.  Good ol' laying on of hands.  Hey, it's powerful!  I wore the bright orange tank top I plan to wear during labor.  I figured I might as well get the shirt blessed too!  I closed my eyes.  Suddenly, someone behind me started singing some Ooohs.  Then someone else joined in harmony.  Then another voice.  They switched from Ooohs to singing the words "I know."  And then my sister, right in front of me, sang the chorus I recently learned and immediately knew would be part of this birth:

I know this rose will open

I know my fears will burn away

I know my soul will unfurl its wings

I know this rose will open

It was like an episode of Glee written just for me, and it was awesome!  I invited all 8 women to come to the hospital room and do that again.  They're thinking about it. 

I opened some presents, and then we moved to the table to make some art.  Everyone took a square of fabric and painted some sort of visual affirmation or blessing.  My mom will sew them into a quilt for me.  Wow. 

Then there was cheesecake with chocolate ganache.  So, you can see why I felt so good and blessed by such dear, dear women.  I enter these last few weeks of pregnancy knowing I am loved, knowing my baby is loved, and feeling fearless about giving birth. 

Circles

Circles

The moon is most happy

When it is full.

And the sun always looks 

Like a perfectly minted gold coin

That was just Polished

And placed in flight

By God's playful Kiss.

And so many varieties of fruit

Hang plump and round

From branches that seem like a Sculptor's hands.

I see the beautiful curve of a pregnant belly

Shaped by a soul within,

And the Earth itself,

And the planets and the Spheres--

I have gotten the hint:

There is something about circles

The Beloved likes.

Hafiz,

Within the Circle of a Perfect One

There is Infinite Community 

Of Light.

~Hafiz, I Heard God Laughing

(I'm looking forward to being with a circle of women on Sunday to bless this pregnant belly shaped by a soul within.)

Letter To My Baby

Dear Betty,

Hi, baby girl.  I feel you moving around in my belly.  It's so weird and wonderful.  But I can't wait to hold you!  To hold your little body and kiss your skin and nurse you!  Such a bond we will have.

I'm excited for your birth.  I believe it will be magical.  Such wonder and magic and beauty YOU are bringing into this world.  You are a unique soul, your own person with your own life to live.  I can't wait to meet you and get to know you.  You'll learn so much more than I'll ever know.  You'll teach me so much.  I'll teach you what I can about the world.  It's hard out here sometimes, but then sometimes it's so beautiful and joyful.  Don't worry; you're equipped.  So am I.

Be healthy and comfy in there, little joy, for just a few more weeks.

Love,
Mommy