I’m grateful for the year’s first seeds sown in the hoophouse, and two daikons harvested from a late fall planting (most of them got frozen).

Grateful that she wears either her stripey raglan or her red diamond raglan every. single. day.  Those and the brown wool sweater pants I sewed.  She is warm and I am thrilled.

Grateful that Gabriel got to wear that February baby sweater a few times at least before outgrowing it completely.  And grateful that I’ve almost finished a new vest for him, since he’s growing much faster than I expected!  Not sure why those last rows always seem to take so long.

Grateful to celebrate Ben’s birthday, and to have another amazing year ahead of us.  We’ve been together for ten years now, and I am so immensely grateful for our life together.

Grateful for my old friend, the Ergo.

Grateful for a healthy baby, grateful that he often sleeps in the car (this is a miracle to us, since Ella screamed on each car ride for the first 2 1/2 years).  Grateful to be eating dairy, wheat, and greens again, after a few weeks of taking them out of my diet to see if they would help his tummy, which sometimes seemed to trouble him.  It didn’t seem to help, and boy am I loving every bite of cheese and sourdough bread!

Grateful for for friends, neighbors, and community.  Grateful for our families, grateful for all the good work and farming to be done this year.

Blessings on your weekend, friends.

Perhaps one of the greatest rewards of meditation and prayer is the sense of belonging that comes to us. We no longer live in a completely hostile world. We are no longer lost and frightened and purposeless. The moment we catch even a glimpse of God’s will, the moment we begin to see truth, justice, and love as the real and eternal things in life, we are no longer deeply disturbed by all of the seeming evidence to the contrary that surrounds us.

- Bill Wilson

I read this today in Meditations from the Mat.  While I was pregnant, and after returning home from the Keystone Pipeline protest in D.C., my midwife very kindly asked me what it was like, to feel such deep concern for the future of humanity and our planet, and at the same time to choose to bring a child into the world. I said many things that day, but I think perhaps the quote above is a more true answer. That having experienced the deep beauty of the World and the Spirit, I have become both more committed to loving my fellow beings and my Earth, and also more hopeful that we will have a future. This is, too, what I hope my own children experience as they grow up. That it is our deep love that must guide our actions, not our fear.

I recently ran across a story about a Native American tribal leader describing his own inner struggles.  He said, “There are two dogs inside me.  One of the dogs is mean and evil.  The other dog is good.  The mean dog fights the good dog all the time.”  Someone asked him which dog usually wins, and after a moment’s reflection, he answered, “The one I feed the most.”

-Rabbi Harold S. Kushner

I just finished re-reading The Happiness Project, and I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness.  About how sometimes we are holding so tightly to how we think things should be that we miss the beauty right in front of us.  About how easily I clench up and get locked inside wanting things my way.  About remembering to feed the good dog, and the freedom and peace that comes from consistently doing that.  Every day, I remember these things, and I forget them.  And then, hopefully, I remember again.  I imagine it will be like this most of my life, except hopefully I will start to remember more often than not.

“. . . if I have a heart to be contented, I think I may reckon myself as happy a man as any is in the world . . .” (Samuel Pepys)  Do I have a heart to be contented?  I’m thinking about bringing back Gratitude Fridays here in this space, because that was so helpful to me.  This morning, I’m grateful for a healthy family, for these quiet moments in the early morning, for the cat purring in my lap, for the will to rise early and sit my bum down on the meditation cushion, for an incredible husband, daughter, and son, for health-giving foods in my kitchen, and for the chance to be here and share with you.

Blessings on your week, friends.

Gabriel’s birth, like Ella’s, really began weeks before with lots of contractions.  Nearly every night as I lay down to sleep, I would have so many serious contractions for so long that I would almost get out of bed to call the midwife . . . but then at last, they would quiet down, or I would fall asleep.  Gabriel’s due date was December 25th.  A little family history – my dad’s father was born on the 4th of July, asked for a grandson for his birthday present, and my brother (my parents didn’t know he was a boy) was born on the 4th of July.  My father’s birthday is December 25th, and guess what he wanted for his birthday/Christmas present?

On Christmas Eve I was having plenty of contractions, but that wasn’t any different from any other night.  We put Ella to sleep and came back down to put a few presents under the tree.  We usually try to keep the holidays very simple, and this year was even more simple than usual.  Ella and I had made cinnamon roll dough earlier in the day for a special Christmas breakfast, and we did have a turkey ready to be roasted, but that was as far as my planning had gone!  I had been grumpy all day, and though I was trying not to be anxious to meet my baby, the truth is that I was.  We went to bed at nine or ten, and when I woke up at 1:30 am to pee, I was having strong contractions.  I came back to bed and lay down next to Ben, where I could see the clock and tell how regular the surges were.  After a few minutes it was so intense that I decided to turn on my Hypnobirthing cd to help me relax.  Ben woke up then.  “honey?  Is something happening?”  “I’m not sure yet,” I told him.  About ten minutes later I said, “Let’s go downstairs and call Michelle (our midwife).”
So down we went, and I called Michelle while Ben immediately got to work building a fire in the woodstove and getting ready.  My labor with Ella had been six hours, so we knew that this one would probably be even faster.  Michelle was with her family on Cape Cod, so we wanted to give her enough time to get here.  I told her I wasn’t sure that she needed to come yet ( I still wasn’t totally sure that this was it), but bless her heart, she got in her car right away.  I called her back about ten minutes later and said, “Ok, you need to come.”  (I’m realizing as I type this that I did the same thing with my last labor, lol.)  She also called our secondary midwife, Jen, who was also on her way.

While Ben got the hose hooked up to fill the birthing tub, I listened to Hypnobirthing, tried to breathe up my belly with each surge, and tried to really relax between.  I had started knitting a tiny hat for baby that I thought I would work on but I gave up after only a few rows.  I spent most of my time in front of the blazing fire, on my knees with my head and shoulders resting on an exercise ball we’d borrowed from friends.  Ben called our friend and neighbor Sarah, who had agreed to come and be with Ella during the birth.  At about 2:30, Ella woke up upstairs.  I went up to comfort her and see if she would go back to sleep.  I lay down with her, but downstairs we could hear lots of noises.  “What is Daddy doing?” Ella said, wide awake, and I said, “Well . . . Daddy’s getting things ready, because I’m in labor.  Do you want to come downstairs with us?” “Oh yes!” she said, leaping out of bed.  (I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that for moths, Ella had been declaring herself to be a midwife, and even wanted to be the one to catch the baby[with help from Dad or another midwife].)

So down we went, and discovered that Jen had arrived and was getting the birth kit supplies ready, and our friend Sarah was walking in the front door.  My memory gets pretty hazy at this point.  I know that at some point soon, the midwife assistant, Natasha, came and was putting sheets on the futon.  Our third, back-up, midwife Gillian arrived and I saw her sitting with Ella in her lap.  Sarah told me later that Ella said to her, “My mommy is so beautiful.  Look at her skin, it’s just like butter.”  (We all love butter, so that’s a high compliment.)  What a sweetie pie.  Ella realized it was Christmas, and opened all the presents.

My surges were very close together, and very intense.  I was trying to listen to the Hypnobirthing cd, but I was having trouble actually hearing it (or anything else) because I was so zoned.  While pregnant, I had made a list of “Things to remind Adrie while she’s in labor,” and Ben would come over and say, “Do you want me to read you your list/” and I would nod. It was so helpful hearing his voice remind me.  (He told me few days later that he would have done it more, but he felt awkward, like he was telling me what to do, when what did he know about labor?)  It seemed like I had to get uo and pee between almost every surge, and I barely had time to walk to the bathroom before another began.  I had trouble finding a comfortable position to rest between, and it didn’t seem like very long before I said, “I think the baby’s going to come out soon.”

The water in the tub felt too hot at first, so they started dumping buckets of water out the window and refilling with some cooler water.  At one point I heard a big splash and laughter.  Our cat had jumped into the (full) tub, and right back out, soaking wet.  She looked hilarious, and I had a good laugh.  At last I got into the tub and almost right away felt like I needed to start moving the baby down.  When Ella was born, I only pushed a few times and she came flying out all at once, but thus time I could really feel my body working the baby all the way down.  I felt as though the inside of my body was an enormous space, and this big baby was slowly moving through that space.  Ella hopped into the tub with me right away, splashing around in delight.  I was making a fair bit of noise at this point, which did make her a little nervous, but Ben and the midwives reminded her that was totally normal.  Ben asked if I wanted him to come in the tub and I said “Yes!”  It was so great to have them both right there, and to have all the midwives.  I had been worried that it would feel too crowded, but it felt like just enough people to do everything, and I was so grateful for all of them.

Michelle arrived just in time – I didn’t hear her come in but heard her voice and saw her there beside the tub.  On one very strong surge I hit the side of the tub with my fist, trying to release some of that energy, and I was glad for such a sturdy tub!  At one point Ella came over and was rubbing my back, which was so incredibly sweet that I used all my willpower not to say, “Stop!” even though I really didn’t want anyone touching me.  At last, I asked her to gently swish water on me instead, and that was much better.  I could really feel the head starting to come out now, which was a relief.  Michelle was telling me, “I can hear how much space you’re making, Adrie.  Your body knows just what to do – when to push and when to slow down.”  As the head started to crown I was pushing hard and then doing some funny panting/blowing breaths to stop myself from pushing too much too fast.  The baby’s head came out and then there was a pause.  It was so amazing to reach down and feel my baby’s beautiful little head.  Another push and baby was out, Ben and the midwives were handing him to me, and I was laughing with relief and happiness.  I hugged Ella to me and we saw that we had a boy – a perfect, pink, healthy boy.  What an amazing blessing.  It’s was 5:30 am, Christmas morning.  “I was right,” Ella exclaimed.  “I have a brother!”  (She had been asking, all along, for a brother.)

Someone put the cinnamon buns in the oven to bake, we all climbed out of the tub and dried off and bundled up.  Ella was the most excited of all of us – she kept admiring his fuzzy hair (”My little peach!” she kept saying) and everything else about him.  He was 7 pounds 7 oz, 20 inches long, and had the same exact face Ella did when she was born, but with different hair.  The midwives, Natasha, and Sarah did such an amazing job of cleaning up and fussing over us.  I had a bowl of beef stew and drank and drank a lot of this electrolyte drink that I’d made and frozen.  Sarah offered to take our turkey home and roast it for us, then bring it back later that day, and we gratefully accepted.  The sun rose, and it snowed a little bit.  Gabriel (although he didn’t have a name yet) nursed and slept.  At last my bleeding had slowed, the newborn exam was done, my exam was done, and the midwives talked to us about what to do the next few weeks (no climbing stairs the first week, etc), and then they went home, too.

We spent that first day in that sort of newborn stunned amazement.  Mostly we just talked about how cute and wonderful the baby was, and told Ella about herself as a baby, and she had a blast playing midwife with the remaining supplies.  Sarah brought back our turkey, and I can now say that roasted turkey and fixings is the best postpartum food ever.  I was so hungry and thirsty.  I was a little disappointed at first, that I didn’t have a “true” Hypnobirth – my surges were very intense and sometimes painful.  But I realized as I thought about it how much more relaxed I had been, even in the midst of the intensity, how grateful I had felt for the support all around me, and how even four hours hadn’t seemed that long at all.  Mostly, I spent the day feeling completely filled by a deep gratitude for a healthy baby.  Feeling so lucky and blessed to have had both my births here in this house, to only have to walk over to my bed and snuggle down close with the ones I loved while food was being made in my very own kitchen.  And that’s still how I feel – so grateful, so blessed, enjoying these brief days while this new babe of ours is growing so fast (9 1/2 pounds already!).  Wishing you well, friends.

I read these two quotes (day 71 & day 72) in Meditations from the Mat a few days before New Year’s.  I could say a lot about what they mean to me, and how I think they might shape my year, but I think I’ll just let the quotes do the talking.  Blessings on your new year, friends.

Do you want to improve the world?  I don’t think it can be done.  The world is sacred.  It can’t be improved.

Lao-Tzu

Behold, what I have seen to be good and to be fitting is to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of his life which God has given him.

Ecclesiastes 5:18

Well, we’ve tried but I’m not sure we managed to capture his extreme sweetness and cuteness.  Happy New Year’s to everyone, and Happy one week old to Gabriel.

Gabriel David Lester

Born with love and joy at home at 5:30 am Christmas morning.  Baby and Mama are both healthy and well.  Thank you in advance for your good wishes – we are resting and trying to soak up this precious time, and so grateful for this amazing blessing.

It’s been a week filled with beauty, love, and plenty of challenges.  Like most weeks, basically.  Ella’s had a wicked chest cold for about two weeks, which wakes her in the night coughing (which wakes me int he night to comfort her).  I did manage to sneak in a bit of crafting while a babysitter was here (finishing a striped raglan for Ella and a Stella pixie hat – thank goodness I started them both long ago).  And I do think she’s almost better – at last.  I seem to have a re-occuring pattern that sickness lingers (in myself or my daughter) until I stop to ask myself what lesson this illness might have to offer.  Not just a complaining “Why me?” questioning, but a true wondering what the gift could be.

Today, I did not want to show up for work (meaning, life).  But I happened to reread Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa’s section in this article (it’s posted in my sewing room), and I thought, Of course.  I closed my eyes and asked to be shown how I could be of service.  I opened my eyes and there was a sick four year old, with all of her quirks and needs.  There was a husband with arms sore from erecting a huge hoophouse, who really needed a quick massage.  There were many chances to make extra cups of tea when I went to make on for myself, and endless chances to truly listen to someone talking to me, to offer a kind word, to ignore any unkindness.  I found myself singing This little light of mine, and tonight we lit two candles on our menorah.  I was so glad that I had truly been here today.

Wishing you wonderful holidays, and that the light we are all searching for finds you, wherever you are.  Blessings on you and yours.

Lest you think that I’m all grumps and thunder these days . . . I’m either laughing here at the enormity of my own belly, or at something Ella was saying.  Maybe both.  As baby gets closer, I can’t help but remember the baby who might have been born in October.  Every time I dream about this new baby, it is chubby and smiling.  What a gift.

* * *

First Moon

Outside

we plant two peach trees

where once there were four – grateful

that sometimes

what was lost

can be restored.

Inside

a whirling of stars,

blood, all the possibilities

of flesh, bone.

Open the door -

someone

is waiting.

(c) Adrie Lester 2011

The Prayer of St. Francis

Lord make me an instrument of your peace

Where there is hatred,
Let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is error, truth;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, Joy.

O Divine Master grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled
As to console;
To be understood,as to understand;
To be loved, as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.