Rowan's Birth Story

Birth Story of Rowan James Hayes-Webb, at 22.51 on 19th February 2010.

I have newborn baby boy, and his birth was absolutely beautiful. People ask me 'how was the labour?' with this pained/sympathy look on their face, and I tell them that the birth was wonderful! They tend to look shocked and don’t believe me. They keep talking about pain, whereas I talk about the powerful rushes of energy which got me really excited. I wish I could do it all over again!! I used herbs and a birth pool to help me manage the energy best. I got so high off the heat of the room, the endorphins and the support of my 3 birth partners. I have never felt as happy in all my life as when sitting in that water surrounded by people doing the best for me and my baby. During the birth, I kept myself loose and open by saying 'I love you' to my baby, and thanking him for all the hard work he was putting in. The two highest emotions I felt were ecstasy and immense gratitude, more than I’ve ever felt them before.

It was a gorgeous adventure in learning what my body is capable of and I am still in awe. I have such a calm, contented little baby, I didn't really believe this kind of birth and motherhood experience was possible, but now I've had it, I can honestly say it was the most empowering, emotional experience of my life. From start to finish I felt so excited, happy, grateful and loving. Here’s what happened:

It was 5 days after my ‘official due date’ when I woke up at about 8am to my waters breaking in bed. I had been using herbs to encourage labour for the last few days as I wanted desperately to avoid a medical induction at 42 weeks. I felt so excited and rushed to tell my parents, with whom I lived at the time. I was having cramps, like period pains, and had been all night and on/off for several days. They didn’t hurt – I used to have horrifically painful periods (all the ladies in my family do) so I always anticipated being able to cope naturally with the sensations of birth. (note: I won’t use the term ‘labour pains’, as I didn’t feel this way about my birth and it sounds too negative!) I called my birth partners and arranged for them to meet me later at the birth centre 30mins from my house. I ate some breakfast even though I felt sick with excitement, and pottered around the house, bounced on my birthing ball, chatted to friends on the internet, and played on the PlayStation! I had 3 rushes (contractions) about 25 minutes each apart, lasting about 30 seconds, and I got the urge to kneel over my bed, close my eyes and breathe deeply through them. I wouldn’t call them painful but they increasingly demanded my full attention. My sister arrived (one of my birth partners) and I decided to have a bath. I hated being in there, as I had to lie down, and I had 3 rushes in the 20mins I was in there. I got out and didn’t say anything to my family about the increased rushes as I thought they might wane again whilst out of the water. But my sister noticed while I was getting dressed, and said she thought we should go to the birth centre now! It was lunchtime and they were indeed coming every 10 minutes, so we grabbed our bags and got going. We stopped at a supermarket so I could wee and it was really funny waddling slowly through, being stared at by shoppers! We joked to my dad that we might stop to buy snacks and he didn’t see the funny side...!

It was snowing, and everything felt so magical, knowing I would meet my baby very soon. I felt hugely positive about everything and was so excited to have started naturally and be going to the lovely birth centre I’d chosen, not a hospital (especially as there was norovirus at my local hospital and no birth partners were allowed! Plus it has a bad rep for lack of breastfeeding support). I sat very still in the car and breathed through my rushes, asking my parents to turn the radio up so they couldn’t hear me – I closed my eyes and went into myself. Once at the birth centre, Adam, the baby’s dad arrived – we had broken up the previous month after a difficult relationship, but were still on good terms at this time. The midwives settled us into a side room. My sister unpacked the many bags I’d brought and we made the room our own. A midwife observed my rushes every now and then and late afternoon, she checked my cervix at my request – I was 3-4cm dilated and she said to expect 1cm an hour from then on. I thought it would be quicker than that (I turned out to be right!). My doula Becky arrived at the centre and things really got going then, I think it was because I felt so safe with her. I started having stronger, longer rushes, and needing to bend over a birth ball or the back of a chair, I breathed deeply and Becky massaged my back with oils, which felt amazing. Adam held my hand and made me laugh, my sister offered water and food in between rushes and took lots of photos as I requested. At one point I had a glass of orange juice and was instantly sick into a bowl Adam was holding! Puking felt amazing, I literally felt myself open up and let go all inhibitions. I think the way that a person pukes says a lot about how they feel about their body – I just did it, not caring or apologising for the mess – it was helping to get my baby born!

From that moment on, everything intensified, and it wasn’t long before I decided to get into the pool – I wasn’t sure I’d like it because I hated being in the bath earlier, but the warm deep water felt great. I was 7cm dilated when I got into the pool. We put a meditation CD on which had gentle music and some guidance, low lights, and Adam got into the pool with me. I lay on my side next to him, closing my eyes through rushes, breathing deeply and making low, moaning sounds – these help to open up the pelvis. My legs were trembling and I kept getting cramps, turns out I was slightly ketonic, so my sister and doula kept feeding salty crisps and bits of gingerbread between rushes. I asked people to be quiet during rushes, not to waste energy nattering, and I made sure to keep the atmosphere sweet by still saying please and thank you when asking for things – the sweeter you can keep it, the more gracious you can be, the higher you can get off the birth. I started to use the herbs more to help manage the energy and keep on top of it. I felt really ‘high’ happy, teary, but at one point I panicked about how quick everything was happening, and felt myself tear at that exact moment – it didn’t hurt cause I was so happy and high... but it bloody did after!!! (2nd degree tear, loads of stitches, couldn’t sit or walk for a week and was sore for weeks after that!) The crowning took a while, as he had his hand up by his head (nuchal arm) and he was bigger than anticipated (estimated 7lbs, actually 8lb 10oz!), I put enormous effort into the last few pushes, my birth partners literally cheering me on, really made me believe we could do it. The burning feeling of crowning was intense – still, not what I would call painful, but really overwhelming. It felt great because I knew so much progress was being made, and it was all so expulsive and felt gorgeous...

Rowan James was born at 22.51, I was absolutely ecstatic and as I cuddled him, felt like I’d known him forever. My sister took pictures and rang family and my doula made sure the midwives knew how I wanted the rest of the delivery/aftercare to go as I was in no position to care at that point (but I would have done after)!! I delivered the placenta about 10mins after and Adam cut the cord (after people had to run round the unit to find him, as he’d gone to change out of very messy swim trunks!!). I was helped out of the pool, practically carried to be honest as I just couldn’t walk for trembling (being ketonic and very hungry and tired). Rowan and I were skin to skin and started to breastfeed. We gazed at each other and had pictures, then I asked the midwife to see the placenta (they were hugely respectful about this). She examined it and explained it on a big mat in front of me, it was amazing! I was so interested to see this organ that nourished my baby for 9 months and helped him get so fat and gorgeous. I was very pleased with the way the midwives were so respectful of my unusual requests and sent them a card to this effect some weeks later. They really did contribute so much to my birth. 

Then Adam, Rowan and I went back into our side room for me to get repaired. I was shakey, trembly, couldn’t walk or move from hunger and (happy) shock and the sheer emotion of it all, not to mention the massive, apparently ‘difficult’, tear. I chose to have no anaesthetic or gas and air while being stitched up (I was curious to see what it felt like!) and just breathed my way through the pain – at this point I think the midwives thought I was barmy, they said it would hurt, I said, ‘does it hurt more than childbirth’ they laughed and said no of course not, so I said, ‘well I just did that without drugs so let’s get on with it...while I’ve still got pain-killing endorphins floating around my body!’ Yes, it was very sore but I didn’t really care, I was glad to be feeling every single sensation of my baby’s birth and the way my body felt after. I wanted to savour it, and I’m so glad I did it all my way. I used deep yogic breathing to get through half an hour of pain. Definitely more painful than the birth, and I was so desperate to just hold Rowan again! Adam and Rowan sat in an armchair next to me cuddling and falling in love, it was lovely to see and made me cry loads!

After the repair work, baby checks were done and I declined artificial Vitamin K. There is vitamin K in vernix and colostrum. Rowan was not washed or bathed for several days after the birth (maybe even a week!) to absorb maximum vernix/vit k, and of course he breastfed at less than 10minutes old. I felt really grotty but was advised by my doula not to wash too much or with soap because Rowan would use the scents to help breastfeeding – she was so wise, so absolutely right. I did feel smelly though!!! Anyway, we had a proper feeding session, Adam fell asleep til morning, and I sat staring at Rowan all night, falling in love! A beautiful start to the magical adventure of motherhood.

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Also featured here: http://birthwithoutfearblog.com/?s=magical+birth

Nature

Nature

I can't live without her. She is so absolutely vital to the very essence of me, I stifle when I do not have her close.

Every second Saturday since January we have had contact at Buxton, which means staying at my parents' for the weekend, no big deal cos it means they take Ro out on a sunday. Saturday evenings after tea I walk in the fields behind their house while they bath Ro. Tonight, they've taken him to a BBQ, since he isn't sleeping til 9pm anyway just recently.

As soon as they left I was over the fence, walking barefoot through the fields, grounded. Sat on the fairy mound, gave thanks. Scrambled up a Hawthorn tree, lay down and loved it. Let the love flow, let the love flow... it gifted me some leaves to invite love. I slid down to the roots and lay, smiling, to see a lone baby thistle...hello again. I watched a greenfly, who in turn was inspecting me. I merged with its energy field and for a second felt its lifeforce… saw the world through its eyes… just for a second. This world, so intricate. This time in my conversation with thistle I was invited to take a head, bearing two flowers. I felt remarkably pleased. Especially after the last two firm rebuttals (at camp). A nearby red clover offered a flower, and my small pocket was full. I was already carrying shoes and book (Secret Teachings of Plants, S. Buhner). Time to go home and make tea; I took the long, winding route through the patch of woodland - elegant elder nettles and proud grandmama thistles guarding the entrance. "You may pass. Tread lightly" So I did. Drink it in, drink it in... the very medicine is in the experience. A little further on, older thistles with surprisingly furry heads... like rabbits' tails, so soft and bobbled brown... made me laugh and give such joyous thanks for the absolute beauty of nature. How could anyone think plants are not sentient beings when presented with such humour!!! Just open your hearts and listen with your soul-ears, they are speaking ... their conversation buzzes in my ears and I am still so much a baby in this field, yet so jaded and cynical for 23 human years.

So, if I can sit here supping my proffered herby gifts in a simple, wild tea… what’s stopping you? Get out there…ask, and ye shall receive. Be respectful in your dealings. Give thanks. Live your birthright.

In peace,
Charlie x

The Mother camp

We just got back from camp late last night after a 3.5hr coach trip and an hour on the train. Tiring aint the word! Poor bear was so bored he decided to sleep the whole way - woke up at the halfway point to wee and eat a banana and some smoothie then, when he realised we were getting back on the coach, sang himself to sleep in the sling. Bless his little heart. The weekly Lincoln commuting fiasco has left its mark - every time we get on public transport, he conks out, thinking we're going to be on it for hours!!

Camp was lovely. So calm, peaceful, quiet; I found the healing space I have so desperately been needing for so many months. I didn't have very much energy - physical or mental - for socialising which, in a way, was a shame as from the brief conversations with new people I gathered it was an interesting, likeable bunch. I did a bit of networking with a fellow herbalist which was cool, and there was lots of chitchat in the food queues etc. I have just been so very drained recently that I can't give the best of myself. Next year - if I go, and that's a pretty big if - should be a different story, as I won't have been through the mill like I have recently - and hopefully camp won't be on a waning moon again, a fact which most definitely increased my lethargy and desire for solitude. New moon yesterday and today, and I can feel my moon-time approaching, a week overdue, probably stress, or else my cycles going back to normal length - 21 day cycles since 7 weeks postpartum is very tiring, especially when I'm so prone to anaemia (despite diet and supplements - I have some absorption issues...lack of breastfeeding as a kid...). It's day 27 now and it feels very much like it'll be day 1 tomorrow, so here's hoping for a permanent return to 28 day cycles.

What I did get from camp was a lot of direct experience with the plants there. We (my group of Angelas + Petra) were camped next to a Hawthorn hedge which was just bliss... such synchronicity, so the right herb for me at the minute (healing, calming, heart remedy). We went to collect some for a tea as a little ritual to heal the grief a friend was feeling, we added red clover and the tea was so sweet... really opened my heart chakra, instantly, breathing deepened, relaxed me... my friend said she definitely felt better. Later, Rowan was running round with some older kids and I took the opportunity to scurry off and drum. I scrambled right under and into the hawthorn hedge and meditated a little, then drummed. I messed about with some beats for a bit, Rowan and the kids visited for a bit and drummed, which was joyful. Then when they had gone, I asked the hawthorn for a rhythm, and what came was a steady two-beat. I drummed the two-beat with so much love, under the hedge watching the setting sun. It was the heart-beat sound of mama earth and it was so incredibly healing. I came away beaming and just felt an abundance of love and clarity. I had shamanic dreams of the hawthorn bush that night which further deepened the connection and I went to offer thanks and love the next day for the gifts of tea, clarity and healing.

I had a less profound but equally cool experience with the little pixies of red clover; their magenta bobbing heads and cheerful disposition really sorted out a grumpy mood of mine! On the last day (new moon) I was feeling tired, sick, and really irritable. I really needed some solitude and to shake off the grumps before our long journey. I wandered off with the bear in the sling. He slept. I mozied on over the fields until a big lone grand-daddy milk-thistle veritable PULLED me off the path. It definitely wanted my attention! I was told in no uncertain terms not to pick it, but to lay down. I did. This is medicine itself. This interaction with plants blows my mind. We had chats and sorted my head out. It repeated I wasn't to take the physical plant, but to carry the energy and explore it later. Liver stagnation is an ongoing issue for me so this was no surprise, especially at new moon and especially so near my moon time. I thanked the plant and left. My return path took my via a patch of milk-thistles and they nodded at me...I smiled... bent down to touch but was told not to. Fine. Wandered on. I have milk thistle tincture in my medicine cupboard at home but it is shockingly devoid of life force compared to the wild guys in the field their. There's no comparison, really. I must grow and make my own.

Got home to find all my seeds had sprouted despite over-enthusiastic watering by a friend in my absence. Actually had to wring them out and she had been two days before!!! The leaves on my herbs have turned white with the shock. She meant well, though and most of them should survive. They aren't very pleased with me, but I'm picking them out to put in bigger tubs tomorrow (if the bear will allow it) so we can re-connect then and some dryer compost should seal the deal. Sorry guys.

As usual the house is a mess but I kind of don't care at the moment. I don't want to be picking up after Rowan all day when I could be playing with him instead. I'm just trucking along on bare minimum. Still tired and depleted from stress despite the blissful pause that was camp. Wondering if my adrenals will ever really recover from the assault of sleep deprivation, coffee and travel of the last 8 months. Know that I have little energy for starting up a business at the moment, but it has a spirit of its own and is doing its own thing with little input from me, seemingly. It all gets official in Sept/Oct but until then I'm pootling along doing first-aid kits for friends and tending emergency breastfeeding mishaps! Getting some excellent results which is bolstering, and nice for friends, and don't feel the need to expand right this minute. 8 weeks should see all the difference. 8 healing weeks.

Love and light x

Looking after number 2.

That'd be...me!

So, my final grades came out for University yesterday and I’m graduating with a 2:1 (honours)! I am SO goddamn relieved… happy, yes, of course, but the overriding feeling is the delicious absence of the knot in my stomach which took root in December. I am very, very depleted since finishing Uni. I’m having to be very kind to myself, replenish myself with lots of herbal tonics and superfoods (spirulina is my alternative to caffeine now I’m back with a boobie baby all day and lovin it!). Klamath blue-green algae is also amazing,… both courtesy of my Personal Angel, Angela <3. even Ro is getting used to most of his food having green sprinkles on!  He has a lot of energy these days…waaaaaaaaay more than I think I’ve ever had. He’s a busy little toddler and his sleep has changed from 7pm-8am to….9.30pm-7am. OUCH. Tonight he happily went to bed at 7.30pm though so fingers crossed it’s changing back. Note to self: do NOT let toddler go to all-day barbeque with family, stay up til 10pm ‘as a treat’ the day before Summer Solstice… the two combined WILL fuck up his nice early bedtime routine that we’ve had going on for… well, forever! >_<

The point of this entry is for me to try and figure out how I’m going to nurture myself back to life, what I need to do to be more than ‘just functioning’ and having to take 2hr naps every day with Ro just to feel human. Because of my knackeredness and Ro’s new lack of) sleeping pattern, it looks like my house has been burgled. Repeatedly. It’s as much as I can do to keep it hygienic at the moment, it’s (mostly) clean, but is in no way tidy. Just one of the things I’ve had to let go of temporarily while I recoup strength and restore my adrenal glands. I am so burnt-out… I’ve just finished reading ‘Buddhism for mothers of young children’ by Sarah Napthali and IT IS WONDERFUL. It’s really, really helped me to be kind to myself. So, with that in mind… how would I take care of Rowan, if Rowan were feeling like I am now? Well, I’d honour his needs, absolutely. I would encourage him to nap when he needed, to laugh lots, to be outside lots and to eat gorgeous simple nourishing food. I would take it easy and socialise with friends near-by without going far afield, cos I’m so done with travelling after the last 6 months of commuting hell. Frankly I think it’s really cheeky of people to expect me to travel to see them this summer, after I’ve completely busted my ass for so long, but then I can’t expect people to know or understand if they have not gone through 4hrs of Sunday night train travel every week, the same return journey on a Wednesday, with a heavy rucksack on my back, toddler in sling on front, and carting a suitcase, too. I’ve built up muscles I didn’t know existed! People are going to have to visit us if they want to see us this summer. My grandparents don’t understand why I don’t come and stay at my mum + dad’s every weekend like I have been doing (so they can take ro out and I could do uni work). Why would I want to do that, why bother even moving out if I’m going to make a 1hr trip twice  a week to their house??? They live in their own little world of easy car journeys with no screaming toddlers, I cannot expect them to understand.

In 3 weeks’ we’re going to The Mother Camp which entails a 3.5hr coach trip, handily placed in the middle of the day when Ro will normally nap for at least an hour and usually two, so it should be fairly easy really. I’m very much looking forward to camp and seeing the friends I made last year whom I feel so close to. Facebook can indeed be a wonderful thing!! I am on it less these days due to lack of time and energy in the evenings; I prefer it this way. I am woefully behind on email replies, but family has to come first at the moment (well, always!). Makes me wonder how I’m going to have the energy to set up a business from scratch in a few short months, but hopefully by then the superfoods and herbs will have really replenished me. The hot summer sun warms me to my bones and to my soul on a daily basis at the moment… I love it… it does naturally make me more lethargic but it feels so very nourishing, nurturing, loving. This is the first year I’ve not worn sunscreen and I’ve yet to burn. I feel very quiet, introspective, in tune, in love with life, with my beautiful boy. I’m recapturing the essence of what it means to live life in the slow lane and appreciate those everyday funny moments with a lively toddler. I’m very grateful for the experience of finishing Uni, not just for the end result, but for the process, the long hard difficult knackering process, which has made me infinitely stronger. I know now, on a very deep level, that I absolutely am capable of anything. I frequently sat on the train home on a wedesday evening with the baby nursing to sleep, and me tapping away on yet another essay, the sun-lit countryside speeding past out of the window, and I felt so empowered, so appreciative of my brain and my boobs and my whole being, for being the vehicle to completing a dream. I always thought that ‘you make your own luck’ was just a nice little saying by those who didn’t really have romantic notions of fate like I do. Now I know that they are not mutually exclusive concepts. Simply put, if you work your arse off, you can achieve what you want to, even if it’s bloody hard, and even if people are looking askance at you with your boobs out on a train.

2:1, y’all!!!!!!!

Breathe (a poem).

Breathe. 

Just take time

To be

Still.

In my arms,

I watch him breathing.

Chocolate-covered shirt

And dirt

On his face

The milky mouth

Feeds from space.

Just take time

To breathe,

Mama.

In, out,

Lose count

Of the times you lost your temper

Of the times it wasn’t perfect

This moment is all there is

This peace

This bliss.

Submerge me totally.

I surrender to you.

My house needs cleaning,

But you’re busy dreaming

The house will be here tomorrow

But you’ll never be

16 months and 9 days old again

So I treasure every second

Because…

Each minute past

Is a little death

The baby I’ll never have again

Gone,

Confined to memories

Photographs, videos…

I’ve plenty of those.

I’m glad I do;

Each moment changes you.

Holding you in my arms

I breathe with you

Rise and fall…

Rise and fall…

In the Universe

This is All.

There is only this moment.

Blissed.

I'm blessed beyond words. Such a perfect boy; such wonderful friends who have supported me through the hardest time in my life. Here I am coming out of the darkness, hours away from my 23rd birthday, and finally feeling the peace and love that is my birthrite. So technically, I lost the court case - it's been ordered that Ro is to be fully vaccinated immediately. My friends are outraged; I'm quietly accepting. So, this is for a reason. I fought it; it didn't go the way I want; but I will cope, Ro will be fine. My time of sobbing and begging and clawing for change are over, and my sanity is returned. I don't have to justify my acceptance of this forced 'decision' to anyone. It's Ro I answer to, Ro who matters. If I can rise every morning with a smile on my face and be lively and attentive and just BE the mother I am to him, then that matters. if I'm holed up in bed weeping, or frantically packing so I can scurry across borders only to be dragged back (minus Rowan) god knows how long later... then that affects Rowan. Running away isn't an option here, and it isnt my destiny either.

I may have not got the outcome I desire from the court case but we will survive. I am the only one coming out of this with any dignity, with my moral code still in tact. And yes, the only one coming out of it with Rowan.

That matters. That's all there is. In my heart, there's only room for love, peace and joy, now. This is my time.

Insomnia strikes

So, Rowan has started to sleep through the night (mostly) the last week or so. Can't say I'm particularly bothered either way since I never got up because of him anyway. but I guess it's nice to know I've not fucked him up by spoiling him by having him in my bed from day 1 ;)
It's also nice to have a guaranteed 5 hours to myself of an evening since he goes to bed at 7pm. Conversely, I also miss him. I miss his desperate need of me. But only a little ;) I really love the time when I do my own thing, then go up to him and just watch him sleeping looking so beautiful...and cuddle in next to him for 8 hours of kip. It's bliss, really. 


Only tonight, or rather, this morning (2.15am), I can't sleep. I'm so tired, so mentally drained, but I'm also pretty depressed and I cannot nod off. Had CAFCASS child welfare people round today - a pretty routine thing for a court case of this nature, but still immensely stressful. God, to be watched in horror as your toddler runs round the living room with an instrument in his mouth... like he would actually choke on something so big... to be asked where his bedroom is 'just so i can check it's got a carpet and a cot and is clean...'. I'm not really mad that they checked that, I mean it's blatantly obvious Rowan is not neglected in any way, I'm more annoyed that it's just so assumed in our culture that Ro is in 'his own room' (as if that's some sort of privilege??) and a cot... he's never been in one. Never will. He belongs next to me, skin to skin, so he can hear my heartbeat, so I can feel his chest gently rise, gently fall... all night. CAFCASS lady looks confused. I cite some research. She seems appeased. It's so fucking tiring... 


She cheerily relays tales of horrific neglect that she has seen, homes she has visited, poor hungry crying children... oh jeez lady, don't you bring that to my door as well as your bloody filofax of notes on me. So all day I've had these awful images in my head. I used to live in a horrid flat - when I moved in, there was a room that had been used for a little girl, it had ripped up dirty carpet, mould, damp, peeled off pink wallpaper, broken glass in the windows, a dirty little bed, and several locks on the outside of the door. It gave me chills. I never did end up using that room, and shuddered virtually every time I walked past it. I am now, thinking about it. 


I can completely understand why they had to do the visit, I can - some children are not vaccinated because the parents are simply too drugged up and/or fucked up to make and keep an appointment. Some actively just don't give a shit. Not the case here - an evidence-based, thoroughly researched and agonised-over decision has been made. 


So we've been firmly crossed off the 'abuse' list - doubt we were ever really on it to be honest. Ro was a delight, putting a monkey mask on her and playing and not trying to grope my boobas an awful lot. He had one feed. She didnt quite know where to look. Oh he's only 16 months honey... come back in a couple of years and THEN see how awkward you feel! 


To give her her dues, she was complimentary about my house, Rowan, my mothering, breastfeeding in general, etc etc. She fired questions at me like a loaded automatic... it was a bit nerve wracking. But I guess it's all prep for the cross-examination I'll get in Court in 5 days. And before that, my Clinical exam in 3 days. Oh lord... any wonder I can't sleep? 


I also got to read Adam's statement to Court about me, vaccinations, etc. What an utter load of wank... typos, opinion not evidence, full of pomposity. Well, what did I expect? Got to see him tmrw at contact. Dreading it. Knowing he will have read my very long statement, too. I emailed him tonight saying he needs to contribute to the shoes I am buying for Rowan next week. Told, not asked. If he's so fucking ra ra ra about being a dad to Rowan, he can put his money where his mouth is. 


In other news, lots of angel work still happening. It's a beautiful thing and a source of strength. I do see the lessons in all of this - I cannot change everyone, I cannot control everything, I have to have trust, and I have more inner strength than I ever dared to dream was possible. Oh hell yes, I am strong. I can handle anything after what I've achieved the last 6 months... the last 2 years... I'm the woman I always wanted to be, and getting more so each day. If I sound a little self-congratulatory... well, I am. I've fucking worked hard, and short of a divine act or disaster, I am qualifying as a herbalist in 3 days. Now that is worth celebrating. In the midst of all this shit... and maybe even in part, because of it... I have achieved a dream. 


ROCKIN single mama-hood!


Peace out x