Tag: movement
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Mrs. Jones
I started shaving my legs in 5th grade. Not because the hair was dark or bothersome, but because my friends were doing it. That means before I even entered into my teens I was conforming to societies standards of beauty and womanly upkeep. In middle school, I joined in with a bunch of my friends…
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Fight, flight, or freeze
I’m relentlessly tossed around in the rush of a wave pool (constructed by my own choices) begging for the machine to turn off. Lifeguards watch from the sidelines, mistaking my fearful face with a face of adrenaline. I want to get out. I can’t gain my footing even though the ground isn’t far from my…
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Limited language
There are times when I want to claw my skin off. Not necessarily to get rid of the skin that I wear but more so to release what I feel is trapped inside. I have found that words cannot properly express what it is that I’m trying to convey, and because of that I feel…
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Boundaries
I never knew of boundaries when I was younger. That word didn’t really exist in my vocabulary. Our family, and close knit community, was seemingly nonchalant and carefree about boundaries (or lack thereof). In fact, I’m not sure I even heard that word (used in such a context) until I was in my 20’s and…
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Life after birth
When people talk about their birth story occasionally you’ll hear a resentful tone in their voice. They might speak of their labor being too long, or maybe there were too many interventions for their liking, or it was too painful, or the epidural didn’t take, or the Pitocin made it too intense, and the list…
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My daughters birthday
Throughout the pregnancy, I swore she was going to come earlier than her guess date of September 6. Clearly this was just what I wanted since I had no actual way of knowing that. The closer that day came, the more the anticipation grew. Almost to the point of becoming disappointed that I was so…
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Weaning
Postpartum – It literally translates to “following childbirth”, which means postpartum never ends. After I gave birth I experienced a range of emotions, anxieties, and turbulence. Mostly because of the transition into motherhood but also because of a rocky relationship and no solid foundation. All of which came together and created some really choppy waves…
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First latch
She latched with hardly any help that morning she was put on my chest, almost as if she entered this world with a mission to find momma’s milk. Everyday we had our time together. That moment where I turn to her to empty my breasts and she turns to me looking for food. We got…
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Unbecoming
When you look into the eyes of a laboring woman, it’s hard to recognize the woman you once knew. There’s an absent gaze of desperation that comes in the middle of a contraction. With that you know the woman is traveling in between realms, bouncing from reality into laborland and back again. She’s fearful, hopeful,…
The Sacred Body 