Yesterday Cadence turned four. A monumental moment, in which I plan to write more about. We enjoyed special breakfast, lunch & dinner together. She told random strangers in the grocery store, "It's my birthday!," while holding up four fingers.
I've been reflecting a lot in my head and planning the present in our home (which is why I haven't been here), about this momentous occasion of her. Thinking of where I was four years ago as my water began to break. Thinking about how we would laugh at her tenacity in saying "no" when she was 13 months to be unraveled by it still. Thinking of the power which lies in our birth story. How when you get a group of mamas together they are like soldiers around the campfire sharing their own flesh wounds of birth. Our birth stories remind us that with pain their is a price; but, we would willingly pay the price again for the gift of our children.
Last night I hugged my girl tight. I didn't forget how painful that pitocin rocked my body (without any numbing drug), or how her defiance has led me to not enjoying the mothering to her. Rather, I was reminded how in the retelling of her beginning, is a retelling in me how great the cost & gift I am given in being her mama.
So today I am given to my thoughts, nursing & nursing Caprice as she has her first cold, while Cadence is playing with a dear friend. The humidifier does not stop, nor the dishes or laundry and this mama is somehow a little less weary.