Monday, July 30, 2012

Feeling like a Woman

Sometimes I wonder about the concept of "feeling like a woman," and how that has been changed or even constructed by our mass media advertising.

Personally, I feel most like a woman when I am doing things that woman have done for generations- hanging laundry, pulling weeds, snuggling babies, serving others in thier basic needs of food and clothing and a listening ear.

However, our modern adverting would have you believe that feeling like a woman is a product of make- up and designer bras, or it is when your hair and nails are done.

I am plain by nature, would probably fit into the Amish communities quiet nicely, except for love of pink. I find that worrying how I look to be a rather shallow and short sighted pursuit (short sighted because in 2 minutes a kid is going to barf on me, or leak a diaper on me, or wipe his bloody nose on my shoulder), but I don't see how what we are wearing for perfume or how long we spent looking in the mirror in the morning, has anything to do with being a woman.

A woman's work is service. We get our best kicks out of serving others. And quite often it is tedium service, the day in, day out of changing diapers, hanging laundry and making dinner. It is cleaning the house yet one more time, bandaging yet one more boo-boo.

I feel like a woman when I can remain calm in the storm, when I can look beyond the tedium tasks of the day with my skirt blowing in the breeze, the sweat dribbling down my face and the garden freshly weeded, even when there is still dinner to cook.

Friday, July 06, 2012

What I am expecting, now that I am no longer expecting

I am inclined to believe that spirits are attached to their bodies at the moment of conception. Of course, not all pregnancies work out. The ones that miscarry may be a result of the spirit is not ready to come at this time- or the body wasn't right for them, or even that they just needed a beginning of a body to do what they need to do at that time.

I am fortunate enough to have 1 spirit that didn't take her first body, but she hung around us for 5 years before I was able to bring her forth in a body- and now she won't let me out of her sight.

It is much easier to experience another miscarriage, holding this little spirit that I had waited so long for. I don't have to cry about loosing a baby, I just have to be patient.

In fact, in many ways, I was prepared for a miscarriage this time. About a month ago I woke up one morning, faced myself in the mirror, and with my hands on my hips in a peter-pan type (ready for another adventure) look announced to myself that "It was time for a miscarriage." Then I wondered why in the world would I ever say that, or want that?

The only answer that I have come up with is that it must be for the experience. At least the early ( 6 week) miscarriage is much easier to take then a mid-term miscarriage. We also choose not to tell people about the pregnancy yet. It also makes it easier because then you do not have to tell them that you are no longer pregnant either.

"Now is not the time for this pregnancy." I was told. I am ok with that, and when I am not feeling ok with that, I will make myself feel ok with that.

But since I am writing I am going to dissect that sentence. "Now" is the easy part; based on my past experience, it could mean anywhere from 6 months to 5 years or even this mortal life, but it will happen, and I will finish clothing this spirit in a mortal body before we are through, and then he will be "all mine" as I whisper to my other children as I cuddle and kiss them. "This" is the harder one; "this" denotes a separation for others. So that leaves questions of what others at what times.

 I like those questions because they have anticipation to them, the joy of finding the answers.