hello december, hello farm, hello again

I decided to write again. I need to write again. For Catalpa and for myself. We are in yet another transition (as we always are, no?) but this one involves moving again, changing homes, towns, states actually. We are moving across the river to Iowa. Right now we are living in three places, I am uprooted and tired, and frankly, not good at this "no home" kind of life. I admire those who are. I can travel, I have traveled for long periods before, but at this point in my life I need dirt, a desk with paint brushes, a clean and ready-to-go for any meal kitchen, and my own bed sheets. I also need two warm, snoring, animals sleeping next to me.

I want to jot these times down, lay them out, so that I can share them with Catalpa later, if there is a time of interest. I also... want to write about the farm, the land, how we got there, what it feels like, the challenges, the frustrations, the growth, and my passion for a simpler kind of living. Something felt, given, and shared. Meals around a table, guests sleeping over, vegetables and eggs distributed and taken home, and days spent playing outside. Days that feel long, full, spent, and overflowing with just enough.

Botna Burrow -- that is what this little place is called to us now. A little less than a dozen acres, a bunch of shabby buildings and two fancier barn structures, nettles, mulberries, box elder bugs, and a little ol' Iowa town full of surprises.

It is December 1st and I am about to bury myself in farm house renovations, along with continual travel. We have about a dollar and a dime, and will be doing whatever we can from scratch. There are holes and walls to patch, kitchen cupboards to mouse proof, old vents to close up, and missing door handles. I pray that I make it through this month, through snow, projects, and farm planning, through holidays, board meetings, two jobs, and farewell Lincoln gatherings. I hate myself when I am this busy. It isn't the way I want things to be, but right now we will buckle down and do it. Next month we will leave the country for awhile, and hopefully there I will reconnect with some kind of rhythm that suits me far better than all this running around. I am nearly a chicken with my head cut off.

On December 20th we will be on our way to completely moved in at the farm, and on December 25th I hope to have the most beautiful, relaxing evening staring at the stars and sipping hot cider after it is all over.

I am glad we made it here. This last year in Lincoln has been something. My heart was pretty broken leaving so many close relationships to move to Lincoln,but I learned a lot about farming, I learned a lot about myself, I watched and learned as Catalpa grew and grew right before my eyes. While feeling distant, I also had the opportunity for some traveling this summer that I am forever thankful for. I got to reconnect (even if for a short while) with very close friends. I said goodbye to a lot of things, and hello to new things -- like watching Catalpa pick raspberries and blackberries and thousands of mulberries, running through prairie grasses together, smelling prairie flowers, and swimming in lakes and rivers. We had one hell of a summer.

We will end this year with a bang, a hurrah, and somehow we will make it through to our new farm, new community, and a whole new year of wanderings.

upward & onward,
c.

hoo hallow part 1

i miss the way our pillows and sheets smelled in the summertime
kind of musty from drying them on the line
a little woody and smoky
leftover from the previous night's backyard fire
like the breeze flowing through all the open windows
and the scent of the maple outside our big white painted window
with chipping paint around the edges

i ache for the summertime in a deep way
even though today the sun warmed my face
and made my palms sweaty
as i drove with our baby asleep in the backseat

and i cannot feel anything about summer
without entering the closed doors
that keep safe the memories of
our first house

i've forgotten the bonfires
the kitchen smells -- bacon, rotting compost, toaster oven, coffee
the dusty feet bottoms
the nights i slept alone in my own bedroom
at our first house

i've forgotten the endless laundry piles
the warm cobblestone
the glass in the church parking lot on the corner
the mornings and evenings spent in the garden nearby
the secret handholds and kisses shared on walks
the day i spoke the first words
about baby catalpa

i've forgotten the chaos
the loneliness
but not the anger

i forget it all
until i mourn
just a little bit

a collection

today i organized some things in my room. i mostly moved things from place to place. here i will write about some tiny and beautiful things i have collected that live together, like a family. they were once on top of my bookshelf, but now they are on top of my nightstand -- a small wooden table with three drawers. one drawer for pens, scraps, a red glove i love but can never find its pair, glue stick, sunglasses, lip balm and other small miscellaneous objects that just need to be kept in a drawer nearby. the second drawer is for thick socks. the third (the bottom one) for small art pieces and letters i'm currently working on.

:::::

three hazelnut shells filled with wax and a small wick. they are candles. ali made them for me and gave them to me this year on my very first mother's day, which was also my birthday. i don't know if i will ever light them. they seem too beautiful the way they are. if i did, it would have to be for something very important.

an elephant carving in the shape of an egg, a small oval with curious blue eyes, from my grandpa dean.

a small log that i can't call a stick because of its thickness. it looks like bark and is very weathered. there is an old man carved into the front of it. he knows things i do not know. also by grandpa.

a pinecone that i picked up at the cemetery in the northwest where my grandmother is buried (and my grandfather). i noticed it on the day she was buried after my family made a circle and said a prayer and cried tears and shared smiles. i promised to never lose it, but many times i have found it under the bed and once i almost smashed it. since bringing it here it has bloomed, opened, yet remained small.

half a walnut shell. inside is a perfect heart shape. this i noticed while on a walk right after catalpa was born and i knew it was for him.

an acorn that is small and tan. when tyler slept my room last late summer and early autumn i would find acorns on my bed. his pockets were full of them and onto my quilt and under my pillows they would spill. for a while i was certain he spent his days with squirrels.

a dark brown nut that is a mystery. i don't know its story and i don't know its type. i just can't remember either. what i do know is that i like the way my thumb fits on the flat surface of one of its sides when i hold it in my right hand.

a deep blue and black shell from angie. it came by way of the pacific. it has barnacles like hearts sometimes have barnacles. angie told me that heart barnacles are okay, because barnacles are also beautiful. this element is interesting. it is the only one from the sea and not a tree.

a small black statue. it is of a tall bird, perhaps a heron or whatever long-legged bird one might want it to be when they look at it. my grandma told me it reminded her of me and sent me home with it one day after a visit in cedar creek nebraska.

a "two-minute owl" carved in soft wood. (you guessed it) carved in two minutes. it is three-fourths the size of my left pinkie. another grandpa dean creation.

here is the one that sits in the center of this interesting collection; the red one-eyed horse. i know nothing of its origin. it is made also of some smooth wood. my memory recalls my grandmother telling me it is a swedish something or other, which is odd because we are not swedish (that i know of). red horse wears a white saddle decorated with green trees and blue hearts. red horse also keeps secrets and gives me some kind of strength when i look at her. the kind of strength you feel inside your chest.

catalpa's birth

catalpa

for tyler & catalpa, kristin, shannon, shelley, and my mama

I stood outside my parent's house under the dark sky and the magnolia tree. My mom was right by my side. Tyler and my dad talked not too far away. Above us Venus and Jupiter shone brightly surrounded by smaller specks of light and thick, blue darkness.

For a few weeks these two stars were incredibly bright and visible in our night sky. They kept moving closer and closer to one another until Jupiter started to drop away from Venus. I was certain they were dancing and that Venus had no notion of when Jupiter would leave her. I too waited in curiosity and anticipation for our baby to come. I would lay in the bath with my round belly barely fitting now and ask them questions -- "when is it time little one?" I was big. I was enormously round. I was ready.

This was March 17th and it was a warm night with a slight breeze, just enough to enjoy your hair flowing during a long drive with the windows down. The magnolia tree in my parent's front yard was lit beautifully by the glowing orbs and the moon. We had just finished our annual Saint Patrick's Day feast in honor of our Irish heritage and my sister's birthday. Between bites of peppered cabbage, baby potatoes, glazed carrots, corned beef, and my grandpa Dean's soda bread I felt my belly contract and relax. Little waves rolled across my extra 35 pounds jutting straight out. These practice contractions were going on for a few weeks. Sometimes I enjoyed feeling them and other times (while standing at work) I was a little annoyed. However, as a musician and previous runner I know where practice can get me. I figured my uterus just needed a lot of toning before the big day.

Once again the waves carried with them a certain familiarity rather than much excitement. I walked around chatting with my family, rosy cheeked and belly rumbling. I sat with my Kelley grandparents, my great aunt Sally, and my mom's sister who at a young age I gave the pet name "Neenee." All commented on how well I was doing and how healthy I had been throughout my pregnancy. I sat on the couch in between Tyler (my partner) and Kristin (my best friend) sharing small sips of Irish ale and asking for pressure on my hand and foot pressure points. I finished the evening with multiple helpings of cabbage atop my grandpa's soda bread covered with spicy mustard. It was perfect.

traveling home

With our bellies full Tyler, Kristin, and I said farewell to my family and drove home. Kristin had been in town for about two weeks. My stomach dropped a little bit as we said goodnight to her this night. I was starting to get more restless because she only had about three weeks away from work in Saint Louis and I really wanted her to be here for the birth. We were waiting, and while we waited Kristin would rub my back, eat and cook meals with me, and support my nesting. She encouraged me and reminded me it wouldn't be too much longer.

I noticed a few more contractions after dropping Kristin at her sister's place. We arrived home at 11:30pm and went right to bed. Only thirty minutes after laying down things started getting more intense. I had a few contractions 10 minutes apart. I got excited. I rolled from side to side during each one, and to my surprise they kept on going. They were closer now. Tyler was half sleeping so I rubbed his side and whispered, "I'm having contractions pretty regularly eight minutes apart, I think I might be starting labor." After about two hours of this I needed to get into the child's pose whenever one came. At 2:00am my roommates Dan, Melissa, and Joey came home. I was in the kitchen getting some water while they giggled and made late night snacks. I looked at them and said, "I'm definitely in labor you guys." They were pretty tired and out of it so I wasn't sure if it was registering, but they all looked at me open-mouthed and danced happily. At 3:00am I called Kristin from the bathroom to tell her I was pretty sure labor had started. I sat on the toilet with a huge smile on my face.

support

I didn't want Kristin to come too early because I knew this could take awhile. We all needed our rest. I said I'd call back when I really felt it was time. Only one hour passed and at 4:00am I knew it was time. I started feeling a lot of pressure and sharp pain in my lower back. Tyler laid next to me with squinty eyes checking in every few minutes. I breathed through the rushes on my own, but at 4:30am I needed more help. Tyler asked if I wanted Shannon (our friend, room-mate and doula) to help while he went to pick-up Kristin. I felt very calm about him leaving and even more reassured when Shannon was by my side. It was as if she hadn't been sleeping at all. She sat on the bed with me and chatted. The lamp dimly lit the room. When my contractions came I asked her to put pressure on my lower back and she knew exactly where to push and what to do. The pain was pretty intense, but the counter pressure helped amazingly.

At this point I was still feeling comfortable to walk around quite a bit. I paced about the room during the downtime but when a contraction came I really needed strong pressure on my lower back and hips. I felt excitement rushing through my body. It started to settle into a rhythm.

my best friend

Kristin and Tyler returned to us. Kristin was wearing a blue and white striped shirt. She was confident, calm, and so familiar. I was happy to see my best friend, and to have my wish of her being at our baby's birth come true. We have been friends for over a decade, and in third grade I never would have guessed this tall, strong, long-banges and glasses girl would still love me after so much time and also support me in labor. I remember the first time she told me after a trip to Nicaragua that she wanted to support women in pregnancy and birth, that someday she dreamed of becoming a midwife. It was an epic moments in our friendship. I also remember the day we met, the day I knew she was my best friend, the notes we passed, shenanigans we took part in, the time I kicked her in the shins (and felt so bad afterward), and all the special visits since we moved away from each other for college.

Kristin listened to our baby's heartbeat with her doppler. She told me that our baby liked the contractions because their heartbeat was strong. A smile swept across my face right before another contraction. As I worked and held Tyler's hand Kristin and Shannon cleaned up our room and made space for me to be in any position I wanted to be in. I continued to listen and follow the voice within me.

I spent a lot of time on my knees in the following hours. It was the most comfortable position for me because of the back pressure. I would kneel beside the bed and rest my head on the matress while Shannon and Kristin took turns pressing on my lower back. Around 5:00am we called my friend Shelley, also a doula. At 7:00am she arrived. In my memory this is when things turned hazy, and the pace of labor became much quicker. My vision blurred, my head became heavier, my heart pumped faster, my lungs needed more air. When Shelley walked into the room I don't remember saying anything. I couldn't really carry on a conversation anymore at this point, but through my foggy eyes I saw her face. Her long hair was pulled up into a bun. Around her neck she wore the scarf I gave her from India. Beautiful mustard yellow, orange, and brown with an image of a pregnant woman and the words "from darkness" written on it. I bought it at an artist collective in Delhi. She smiled at me. She held my hand. She talked with Kristin and Shannon about what had passed the hours before she came. Her presence was warm and red.

morning came

It was morning now. The room felt really airy. The warm spring breeze came in our window and covered me like a blanket. I saw the sunrise peak over the tree in our front yard. I felt the wetness of the morning dew filled with hints of that Midwestern humidity. I heard the morning birds sing their songs. Red candles were lit. I continued to be on all fours, mostly on the bed, but sometimes on the floor. This was the only thing that felt comfortable to me. I couldn't sit. I couldn't stand. I couldn't lay down. My lower back felt pinched, tight, aching.

With Shelley, Shannon, and Kristin available when I needed them Tyler went to get some rest. This is when I decided I wanted to be in the water. We turned on the bath and after a few minutes I felt a bit of relief to my back. I could also lay down in the water without too much pain. I remember being here for awhile. Kristin poured water over my belly. Shelley spoke to me in between contractions, but I don't remember her words, just the sound of her voice. I started to feel the baby move down inside me. This was a very strange sensation. I looked down at my belly and saw that it had significantly changed its shape. The whole time I was in the water I did a lot of visualizations. I pictured every part of my body relaxing. I focused especially on relaxing my face and jaw. It was working. I felt more downward movement, more progress. 

Shelley was crouched on the floor next to the tub. She held my hand as I worked through more contractions. I moved to be on my knees in the bath at some point because it no longer felt good on my back. Shannon came in and out checking on me. My vision was completely hazy now. Things progressed during this spell in the water, but soon there was a lull. At this point Kristin suggested that I try a different position. I felt like it was time. They helped me out of the bath and back on to the bed.

Things picked up again once I was out of the water. Tyler woke up and I remember looking at the clock and seeing it read 11:00am. I heard voices outside our window. I remember someone telling me Tyler's parents arrived and brought lunch. I was in labor for twelve hours at this point. Not long after returning to our room and working through a few contractions I wanted to be back in the water. I walked into the bathroom alone and had a few very painful contractions while standing. I tried to sit on the toilet, but sitting felt really, really terrible. I turned the water on and squatted in the tub for awhile until Kristin came in to check on me.

breathe together

Eventually everyone joined me in the bathroom again and helped me breathe through each contraction. I started to sing and moan. I was on all fours in the bath with my head pushed up against the wall. Tyler was right next to my head this time. He grabbed my hands and squeezed them tightly in his. He breathed through each contraction with me mimicking my sounds, encouraging me to breathe deeper and slower. Kristin reminded me to let tension go from my shoulders. I started needing a lot more support because the contractions were so strong and quick. I only had about a minute between each one, which had been the case for hours now. Exhaustion was setting in, and I struggled at times to keep my head up. Luckily there were hands there to hold it when I needed.

I sang and sang and sang, and as I did Shelley kept saying with a low and smooth voice, "Sing your baby down Cait, sing your baby down."

As the pattern of one minute contractions continued I reminded myself to let go and get into the rhythm. I repeated silently to myself "open up, let go, don't fight." I started to sing and hum even louder. Low tones poured out of my body with no intention or obstruction. They just were. I kept my mouth relaxed and open.

transition, stillness

Then it happened -- transition! It felt like an extremely long stillness. Nothing was happening. Everything stopped. My eyes were slits. I could hear only faint sounds. I tried to crack them open to see a bit more but I couldn't. I could barely lift my head without support. I knew Kristin, Tyler, and Shelley were around me, but I could not clearly locate them. I started to cry. I cried quietly, panting and gasping for air. The only thought going through my head was, "I am so uncomfortable." I said this aloud a few times. It was one of the only moments I spoke words during active labor. The rest of the time I was singing, droning, calling. As I weeped Shelley reassured me with her calm, sweet voice. She said, "It's okay to cry Cait. Let it out mama." Kristin repeated "You're doing a great job Cait, You're doing so good." Tyler pressed his head against mine.

After transition I still couldn't open my eyes very well or focus on much, but when I did open my eyes I saw Tyler helping me sing and hum and breathe through each rush. I tried to get deeper into my breath, but it was a struggle. My shoulders were still tight at times and sometimes my breaths were shallow. Very soon I felt the need for a new position. It seemed the bath was slowing things down again. I returned to the bedroom room with help from Kristin, Shelley, and Shannon. I got onto my hands and knees again on the bed. Shelley and Shannon worked together to press on my back and hips, Tyler talked to me and squeezed my hands. I rested my upper body on a yoga ball between contractions.

bathed in the waters

Then things got really exciting around 1:00pm. Breaking, splashing, releasing... my bag of waters exploded like a huge balloon. The sound was so loud it startled all of us who thought it had broken earlier. I let out a breathy laugh. I was not expecting it this late in labor (about 13 hours now), and was sure it had broken earlier. Shannon and Shelley were at my back when it broke and were literally bathed in the waters. I opened my eyes as it happened and saw Tyler with a giant smile on his face. He squeezed my hand tight and said "The baby is coming!"

release

At this point my body went to a new place, another transition right before the end. Before this point I felt the baby down little by little, working beautifully and rhythmically, but this was vigorous, sharp, unmetered work now. Pushing! I remember hearing Kristin say "I think she's pushing." I was moaning and singing very loud. I felt the warm sun through the windows. I felt my body take over. It all came so fast. No one told me to push or not to push, I just completely surrendered while it finished the rest of this process. There was no stopping or intervening. It was an incredible sensation. When pushing lulled for a minute Kristin suggested a squatting position next to the bed. She explained her reasoning because she thought our baby might be face up instead of down, which was why I was having such intense back pain throughout.

This was the final hour of labor. I squatted next to the bed squeezing Tyler's legs with my claws as he sat on its edge. When I had a break from bearing down I rested my head on his shoulder and nuzzled my face in his neck. I knew our baby was only a few moments away. I reached down and felt the top of their head. Then Tyler got up to get water and Shelley quickly sat down in his place. Kristin and Shannon stood behind me telling me that our baby was coming very quickly. They yelled for Tyler to come back into the room. "Hurry!" I wrapped my hands around Shelley's thighs and squeezed as we hummed together.

My mouth was right next to Shelley's ear. I bit down on her shoulder as I felt our baby crown. I thought about reaching down to touch them but I needed both hands for support in my squat. Kristin's hands reached for our baby as they came very quickly. Tyler and Shannon stood next to her watching and giving support. After I felt the last part slip through I came out of my squat and turned around to lay back on the bed. I heard our baby cry immediately, so healthy and perfect I thought even before looking at them. I am glad I could hear them first before seeing or touching. Hearing their sound for the first time was incredibly profound. Kristin helped bring them to my chest. Tyler came around behind me so that I could rest against him.

There was our baby... Catalpa. I leaned against Tyler as he wrapped his arms around me. We both held Catalpa together. He cried and cooed, looking beautiful and strong. It was 1:53 in the afternoon. We stared at each other for a long time. Kristin checked for any signs of distress and pressed down on my belly to feel my placenta. She told me that my back pain was because Catalpa's hand and arm were up and pressed against his face. She said that his left arm came out with his head and then his fist shot into the air. Tyler & I were proud -- a fist pump to greet the world.

My job wasn't quite finished yet. My placenta did not come right away, in fact it took a more than two hours. I needed to squat for quite awhile to allow it to come, so Tyler held Catalpa on his chest while I worked through a few more contractions in the bath. Kristin gave support. The placenta came and it was beautiful too -- red and blue, thick, slippery, meaty, with tiny silver streaks. I was so excited to see it.

When I returned to the bedroom it was beautiful and clean.  Shelley and Shannon made everything perfectly cozy for us. Tyler was in bed with Catalpa. I felt the warm breeze from the window all around me again. My eyes were clear and open. My heartbeat slow and steady again. I got in bed wrapped in my warm towel. It was perfect. We were home. We fell in love.

family

It was 81 degrees that afternoon, so strange for March 18th. The tree in front of our house bloomed with lime green blossoms and tiny leaves. Both our parents and my sister came to see and hold Catalpa. Tyler's parents were leaving to go out of town, but thankfully they stayed to meet Catalpa before needing to go. I was so happy about this because I was a little sad they might not be there to see him right away. Catalpa slept and slept as we (Kristin, Shannon, Shelley, and I) sat on the bed together talking about the birth, regaining strength, and eating delicious food. I rubbed Catalpa's cheeks to feed him. He was so sleepy.

birth

I believe in the human body and its ability to do a multitude of things. Birth for me was about  going deep inside myself, my mind turned off. My voice was present, loud and open. Every fiber of me worked together like it was meant to. I did not feel in control, no one controlled me. It was natural motion. I was along for the ride. When the moment came to "push" Catalpa from darkness my body worked like magic; smoothly, ferociously, and with incredible force.

I hope that every woman/womyn can follow their vision for birth. It is so important for there to be choices and options rather than restrictions, likewise with death. Birth is an incredibly empowering experience. It is a natural process, and because of this there comes mystery, but mystery should not bring fear. There were many people who understood and supported my decision to give birth at home without medical personnel present, but with birth support. I so appreciated their ability to listen and understand where I was coming from. There were also people who I chose not to talk about my plan for giving birth at home with. Life is sticky, and of course one never knows what may happen, but love and trust are stronger than fear. One thing that surprised me was a common assumption that my choices meant I was in judgment or did not respect other birth choices. That simply was not it.

I am glad I could experience my innate and instinctual powers. I am an advocate for normalizing natural birth. I also adore birth stories, and think it is wonderful when they are told and shared.

Squat!

still

enjoying the simple stuffs of life
the buzz of the overhead fan on a muggy day
the snore of the sleeping baby
a brief farewell cup of coffee with two traveling friends
a glance that means goodbye and i love you
the quiet of my own brain
that couldn't come soon enough
the freeing feeling
of all the things i don't understand
like tiny toe bones
and ant colonies
snakes skin
and how the bird builds her nest
so carefully

our afternoon was splendid

neighborhood

kids giggle

baby

rocks

reminiscing ears

upon old musical creations

catalpa

cooing

dreaming

of summertime breeze under cottonwood trees

floating white sky

misty eyes

your one-month birthday

this mama

celebrating

creativity

and

creation

someone tell me how are bones formed if not for magic

Last night Kristin, Shannon, Shelley, and I sat on the floor in the kitchen sipping tea and reading a book filled with pictures of a developing human that Shelley's friend shared with her. I felt like I was part of some secret and powerful council discovering the mysteries of the universe as we glanced at the images. The intricacies of life are incredible -- veins, blood, chambers of the heart, developing eyes and ears, all the vessels to transport things, and tiny, tiny bones pieced together to create a form.

I feel very prepared now, but also patient. The sun is here, the air is warm and breezy, and we are finally sleeping with all the windows open again. There is dew in the morning and birds chirping so loudly in the earliest part of the day (I spotted two cardinals and a dove today) and seeds sprouting that will soon be planted in garden beds. All I want to do is sit outside all afternoon, work on projects, go for long walks, eat dinner together, and talk for hours under this clear spring night sky.

I am confident about my decision to give birth at home, because I know it is what is best for me. I am excited to finally experience birth after so many months of the most crazy, mind-jarring things I've ever known; heartbeats, feet poking edges of my belly, elevated senses like smell and taste, heat, heaviness. I am honored to connect with other strong female bodies that have given birth before, to be surrounded by a support team including my partner, to share the birth with my community here, to meet our baby, to have this baby meet our families and friends, and to share our birth story.

None of this can go without saying I am really, really privileged. I know and am friends with at least five women who are active in the birth field, and who all encouraged me to explore exactly what I wanted for my birth. I also had access to so many resources (including great pre-natal care with midwives, about 30+ books, and a large circle of supportive friends and family). Many mamas have no support -- no partners, no doulas, no family, no community, etc etc. I hope that following this experience I can offer support, information, whatever I can to other women (and men). This is so important.

all my love to this little creature as it gets nearer and nearer...

c.