I did walk yesterday, walked away from my house in anger and found the swing which has brought me much solace in this turbulent time. Later I walked back to the house, calmer, having spent a good amount of energy pumping away my tumble of emotions. Swings are great for this. When I arrived home I ended up in a heated conversation with my husband and his partner, there were tears, accusations, hugs and expressions of understanding. Eventually Michael came home from work and then there were four of us talking. We talked and talked and talked until we all went to bed. There were pit stops along the way, one to sample the mash potatoes Rosy had made all by herself and eat a quick dinner with my mom and the girls; another for Michael to read to Rose before bed and for me to lie with her until she fell asleep. And then we all talked some more. Perhaps I should have made this the commitment of talking rather than walking, at least that way I would be doing the commitment in a manner which didn’t feel kinda like faking it.
That was yesterday, today I am en-route to LA, to be with my VERY pregnant friend Rachel and her talented partner James, of Puppetji fame. They are having a baby, and if I have any say (which I don’t) the baby will be born while I am there. Today is actually Rachel's due date, which means nothing since babies come when babies are ready. The plan for the 4 glorious days I get to spend with these 2 (3?) is to frolic, have fun, kick back, hang, and if I am blessed, be there for the birth of a wonderful little light being.
Preparing for the birth of 3 babies has taught me that WALKING is great for bringing on labour. So I will finally be making good on my commitment. I plan to walk round Venice Beach with a glorious pregnant Goddess and my favourite puppeteer, and walk a baby right on into this world. Imagine that?! If the final day of the walking commitment culminated in the birth of a baby...wow. Makes me think that maybe I want to do it again...maybe ;o)
In case you are not familiar with Puppetji...have a look.
Oh right a question, I almost forgot. Hmmmm. How about.....“What is the story of your birth?“ for the question in 12 days journal #152
I've never been told an actual birth story. I only know tidbits, like my mom wore stirrup pants/leggings throughout her pregnancy because she didn't get very big with me, she felt healthy, and she went miniature bowling the night before she had me (she was on a Tuesday night women's league and I was born on Wednesday). I also know that my dad insisted on naming me Angela because, having lost a baby daughter 2 years before I was born, I was his "little angel." (I'm not sure if I believe that story...I think he made it up years later rather than when I was born, but it's a nice story nonetheless.)
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