Summer Musings 2024

Seasonality, the work of motherhood, a birth story

Dear Ones-

This morning I got an email telling me that my pause on paid subscriptions to this little newsletter project is resuming. "But I’m not ready!” I thought. At any moment now the baby is due to wake up. He’s going through some developmental stage right now and is sleeping longer and harder than he has yet to in his two months Earthside, that for the first time in over a month my breasts are engorged with milk due a change in his sleeping routine. When he finally nursed last night after an epic long nap (and try as I might I’ve never been able to get behind waking babies) I thought- there is a particular pleasure to the feeling of having an engorged breast finally drained of milk. For those of you who’ve never suckled a human at your breast (and there is a huge distinction between suckling to SURVIVE and suckling for pleasure/to get off, though of course babies also suckle for pleasure/soothing i.e. "non-nutritive suckling”) the closest comparison I’ve got is the feeling you get when finally getting to pee when your bladder is really really full and you finally find a toilet or an edge of a field or underneath a tree.

So with paid subscriptions turned back on, perhaps it is a good incentive to write to you. Let you know I am still here. That my first 40 days postpartum was the hardest postpartum I’ve had yet and thank goodness my mother came for a month to take care of all of us. Thank goodness for family support (3 of my five sisters were able to visit during that early fraught postpartum time), friends bringing us meals, our postpartum doula, our midwives, our democratic state and my low income free health care that paid for my midwives and my urgent care visits; thank goodness for the plants and animals and clean water that have kept me fed and nourished to make milk to feed this new human I’ve been entrusted.

It’s July 5 today and it’s unofficially FINALLY SUMMER here in western Washington. I started writing this to you earlier this week while wearing shearling lined slippers if that give you any idea how cool it still has been. Still Juneuary hasn’t been half bad, green and lush, cherries are on, strawberries too, allergies still going off for many of us out in the county due to the field grasses, the roar of late night haying in the fields next door, and June, the month of so many loved ones birthdays- two of my sisters, my husband, my daughter, several close friends. July now the month of my first born son’s birth.

Volunteer “noxious weed” herbalist love Saint John’s wort FINALLY in our yard!

For the 4th of July we had a potluck at our friends. It was a lovely gathering of mostly newer friends and our standbys. Around the table were men, women, a transwoman, babies and toddlers, spanning multiple decades- the kind of table I want to feast around much more regularly- multiple people to hold the baby, refill my drink, and help the toddler girls all change their outfits. We had a deep and lively conversation about the lowest bar of civic duty one can engage in VOTING!!!! Not only is it a presidential election year, but here in WA our long time Democratic Governor Jay Inslee is stepping down after several terms and so we are up for a new governor. We poured out some words and grief about the ongoing genocide in Palestine, the ongoing issues with the supreme court, the terrifying project 2025, and how yes we will vote for the lesser of two evils and from a policy standpoint some at the table asserted Joe Biden hasn’t done a half bad job; the women among the group pointed out that whoever we can VOTE in for president who will support reproductive rights is what we need to remember. It was an impassioned discussion and a wonderful reminder that the most patriotic thing one can do is practice dissent.

I’ve voted in every election (except one local one where I completely FORGOT) since I turned 18 and will continue to do so. However, I am more and more interested in creating a strong web of mutually beneficial support system. This past week I gave thanks for the weekly nanny share with some friends whereby we split the cost of childcare and also our daughters get to grow up together. I had a conversation with a friend who is considering starting a root crop farming venture about leasing some of our land. My husband and I are ALWAYS in conversation about communal living and trying to find some who want to more mutually obligated themselves. Another friend is in the process of opening up her marriage and asked me for dating advice. I spoke to a mom about her upcoming birth and encouraged her to set up a meal train and asked her about her postpartum plan. I cooked dinner for my family and fed my mother in law every day- my mother in law washed my dishes every night.

I have come to realize that the most important work we do in this human life is maintenance work. Care work. The every day work that binds us and sustains us. I sure wish that was more celebrated.

With that in mind I’d like to share the every day wonder of the birth of my son, my third and last child. An undisturbed home birth by me, an "old mom” of 42 .

This story is just for paid subscribers.

Thanks for being here.