May 15, 2020

Her.

it was a wednesday afternoon in january when i found she had landed from heaven safely in me and that her life on earth had begun. for months and months we held her life sacredly to ourselves, only telling a handful of loved ones, speaking of her softly, gently, as you would over a sleeping child or behind a fawn dipping into clover and mother's milk. her life felt too precious to utter so candidly into a new wild, wild world. one with a disease in the shape of a crown. one where a door handle into a bank, a cough, a tip jar outside of a mandarin stand, or a shake of your neighbor's hand could put your life in peril.

and so we tucked away. deep into the heart of our home and deep into the heart of this life, together. slow, slow mornings, french-pressed coffee, victory gardens, seed packets, walks (oh, all those walks) bike rides, movies, late night dinners, stove-top meals (for every meal), schitt's creek, candlelight,  hardware trips, waiting in cars, sewn floral masks, talks over roses and anemone bulbs and hyacinths, rising bread, laundry on the line, clothespins, market lists in cursive, watercolors, homeschool, ghiradelli dark chocolate and caramel squares, vitamins, appointments alone, turning on the news, turning off the news, muddy puddles, muddy boots, muddy hands, sigur rós, sour cherry plums, maple oatmeal, a seventh birthday, ripe loquats, lollipops, drinking from the hose, new cinnamon freckles, the eight pm neighborhood howls, hands on belly, lists of names (names said aloud, names written, names dreamt), kissing before bed (them, him, my hand on her home).

there's a woman two houses down tending to her tomato vine from her patio. she's wearing a violet shirt and all her flower pots are also violet. a favorite color, i assume. she waves from her sun-spot to me as i sit typing in mine. how beautiful it is to see someone tending to something they care about. how beautiful it is that she believes the tomato vine will bear its fruit soon. how beautiful it is to believe at all.

(twenty-one weeks of growing her.
twenty-one weeks of tending to her.
twenty-one weeks of believing in her. in me. in us)

10 comments:

  1. Beautiful Kerrie! I can't tell you how glad you're back in this space. I'm also tickled pink that you didn't just ditch your old blog! There is pure gold contained in it's pages. I found it via your insta back when I was a new mama to my first (a boy!)and now that I'm 20 weeks with along with our second (a girl!) I find myself craving your words and wisdoms that I remember so fondly reading during the wee hours as a nursing mama. My own mother has never been a part of my motherhood journey, so your words are such a balm when I feel it's all just a bit too much. And for that I am eternally grateful! Your mere existence and willingness to share your story is a medicine in this crazy world. Keep it up beautiful wombon. Xo!

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    1. o sarah! thank you for writing me! oh my gosh we are so paralleled on our pregnancy journey ~ what a beautiful, beautiful thought. so tender. i was a few weeks early with both of my babies, so who knows, maybe we will have our girls on the same day! what a bond for life <3 i am so touched to read that you read here during such an impressionable, raw and beautiful time. the things we remember during those first months of our children stay with us a lifetime, i imagine .during fiorella's first weeks, it was re-watching 'the office' ~ sometimes it's still too fresh in my mind and heart to even watch a single rerun now. how potent memory is. thank you for writing, dear sarah. let's stay connected, please. xoxo

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  2. How lovely, Kerrie. May God bless your family and your baby on the way.

    By the way, my mom and I are having a game guessing at what you will name her. I hope that’s not strange, lol. We can’t wait to hear, as we love your other children’s names.

    Have a great day!

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    1. oh louisa! this both made me giggle and deeply, deeply smile. i imagine you both coming up with some pretty out-there names....and i would probably both crack up and also really consider them all ;) right now we haven't a clue! the list is long and then gets narrowed down and then re-written. it will come to us, hopefully in a dream or in a very meaningful way.... thank you so very much for writing. xoxo

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  3. I found out in December that I'm pregnant with my first, and I remember in the weeks after that first appointment searching for your blog hoping to reread some of your beautiful words about motherhood. So happy that it's back now, and the timing feels magical! Like another comment said, your words are a balm! From all the way on the other side of the country in western NY, thank you for writing :)

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    1. o rebecca ~ my sincerest congratulations love. i am right behind you! a summer baby, yes? how are you feeling? are you attending appointments solo? i have one this week and i am feeling rather bleak about it, to be honest. i want my husband there. he is the father after all. i am going to try to demand it, but i am timid and wonder how far my demanding will get me. most likely a pat on the back and no dice. are you safe in NY? how is your heart? holding you so very close, sweet friend.

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    2. due August 7, so yes summer baby! solo appointments now, but thankfully at a very supportive midwifery who makes it all feel so breezy, and doubly thankfully, the big anatomical ultrasound happened with both of us RIGHT before the shutdown started. truthfully though I would kind of forget to even invite my boyfriend along with me during the more routine appointments a lot of the time, not sure why, just some natural aloofness lol. I hope that your provider can at least give you a sense of comfort while you're there. I know when I scour the web for pregnancy content because there's no groups or classes in-person right now, I see lots of moms facetiming and video-taping in their appointments! not great but better than nothing. We are 300 miles from New York City, so safely distanced from the epicenter, and my heart is clinging to that fact every day! I know your state is also pretty large, so I hope you feel like you have some space as well!

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  4. oh how I love this. You are a noticer, and a feeler. How beautiful it is to feel like part of a secret club that feel the magic in the world.

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