First things first:

Motherhood is amazing.

It's also scary as fuck.

Nobody told me - or maybe they did, and I just didn't understand - that having a child is like getting a sizable chunk of your heart torn out, watching it grow legs, and walk off into the world. I love my daughter more than anything else I can imagine, and at the same time I feel extremely vulnerable. Fragile, and a little scared.

One of my good friends has been obsessed with researching fringe cults recently, and gave me some of the material she dug up. I would have been more interested in this stuff a few years ago, but I read it anyway. Until I got to some graphic descriptions of ritual abuse of children. I just couldn't handle it. The idea of someone else's children being so destroyed. It struck too close to home.

Anyway, life is good. My daughter is beautiful , and STRONG. At two months she's already holding her head up constantly, rolling over, even creeping across the floor (she wiggles and pulls herself forward by her knees and elbows). She's chubby and happy and social. She loves being in public places and around large groups of people. Already she's learning what took me years to know.

Lots of things are changing, but for now I'm content just to follow the flow and let them happen. We might be permanently settling on the coast, or we might be moving to Guam for a few years (my partner's family is Chamorro) and I'm also working on applying to grad schools.

But after giving birth, I feel like my life has begun again. Not to be too sappy about it, but it's definitely one of the most defining moments in my life, if not the most. I had a very long, intense labor - 44 hours, in fact. I was planning to have a natural birth in a birthing center, but when things just weren't progressing after 30 hours we moved to the hospital, where I was dosed with Pitocin. Still, it was almost 12 hours later by the time I began the final process of getting the spawn out of me! Baby had been stuck at my cervix and I narrowly escaped a caesarean. The nurse had actually brought in booties and a surgical mask for my partner, in preparation for moving me to the OR, and minutes later I was able to begin pushing.

None of that mattered once I saw her for the first time. Tiny and red and covered in her own poop, she squinted up at me with those opaque new-baby eyes and stole my heart. The first few weeks were a little rough, but it was worth it. It was all worth it. Lavender Xula, 8 lb, 20 inches.

By the way, if any of you feel so inclined, here's a few pregnancy pictures on my friend's blog: Rosewood Beast. We were spending the day at my farm and she took a few snapshots on her small digital camera for fun. She's a talented photographer and is releasing a book soon!

Check out more of her photos at Rosewood Beast Photography.



I'd write more, but lately my writing has been something more personal, something I'm less willing to share. Anyway, Casper is having a baby, and she's written about the process of pregnancy much more and much better than I have. Go give her some love.

Stay wild.