Our midwife and her apprentice just visited for our 16-week appointment. We chatted nutrition, yoga, Mamalode's evolution, and babies as the sun set behind the Bitterroots. Fun to have Josey right there, watching and listening, I'm amazed that all these visits and birth will be in our home!
I am mountain mama. In summer, I’m more keenly aware of the moon and it’s cycles. Living in a valley whose dramatic landscape is highlighted and contrasted uniquely as the moon circles across the sky, you can’t help but be affected. At the end of this summer, I knew it was time.
I never really saw myself as a mother, here, now. My future involved a leadership role, an important musical career. Yes, I had kids in my mind’s eye, but not in the forefront. Now, mom is me, and I want to be more mom. A blessing, this role and identity of mother. Sometimes, it's hard to embrace. Most of my close friends are not in that same place of having children, and sometimes I envy their freedom. Even though I have the most amazing gift.
Yes. I knew it was time.
I called James at the T.O., as I would often do, bored while Josey napped. Sitting at the window, post-shower, plunking at keys as hikers meandered by. My chest swelled. "I’m looking at a moose and her baby across the lake," he said. I looked at the water and knew. "I'm pregnant," I replied. I played piano in the hotel that night, filling in for Seth. Certain of new life.
A few busy days went by. No pregnancy tests in Babb or St. Mary. It was easy to concede to “getting ahead of things.” I am, afterall, quite emotional, and again felt as I'd always felt, no flutters, just...normal.
One night, on a full moon, I lay sleepless in the whitewashed room. James and Josey breathed heavily. In my mind's eye, I saw the moonbeam. In my belly. It was tiny, but it connected right to the fat moon, sitting next to Mt. Allen.
Josey and I went on our usual grocery adventure to Browning, for Boat Co Family sustenance. No pregnancy tests in the aisles, although JJ ditched one of her too-small sandals on one of those aisles, never to be found. I bought two from the front counter, "Why would I need two?" I questioned myself. The girl ringing me up seemed confused, too.
I awkwardly maneuvered the full cart into the Tp-floored bathroom, and a man excused himself, bottle of cleaner in his hand. "Sorry," he said, "it's kind of messy in here. I was just getting in to clean for today."
Ok, gross. We hurried in the stall (it was here that I discovered her missing shoe). I quickly saw the two lines and scurried out of there. I knew, just needed that confirmation.
Last week, I said I’d write more about why first trimester was the worst. During my first pregnancy with Josephine, I was terrified of miscarriage. Even more scared the second time. So, I didn’t tell people right away. Add fatigue, headaches, and bloating; you’re lonely and miserable.
Last night and today, I convinced myself (again) I'd had a miscarriage. I hadn't felt the baby in quite some time, afraid I'd overdone it on our little hike, or something or something. James reminded me I did this with Josey too...
While singing with a class this afternoon, my belly gave me a mental squeeze.
My little moonbeam!
A couple hours later, we heard the heartbeat as I lay on the couch. I knew, and got my confirmation.