The magic feather project

As you can see I have added a new logo on the top right side of my blog. I am creating a magic feather for Jude Hill's Magic feather project. The magic feather is her personal symbol, so for my submission I thought I would combine her symbol with one of mine, the butterfly.

That is all I will say for the moment. I will post a picture once it is on fabric.

Till then.

Sarah has arrived

Wednesday August 3rd I roamed around the house feeling heavy, uncomfortable, and anxious about how this birth was going to be. I waited to feel any type of discomfort that indicated the arrival of Sarah, but the day went on and I was still pregnant. That night, as the mister and I slept in the living room, our mattresses stacked on top of each other, our clothing scattered in different rooms, the moon light falling upon us, I began to feel the familiar tightening at 2:40 am. I began to time them and realized they were around 6 and 5 minutes apart. "Isn't that when you are supposed to go to the hospital?" I asked myself. The idea scared me half to death. Everything would be in German. I would have to use a communal bathroom while in labor, and then share a room with another woman and her baby...It was all too foreign, but my body was ready. 

After three bareable contractions I woke up the mister and told him that I needed his company. I was having contractions. Right after I said that I ran upstairs to use the bathroom, and the contractions were stronger. I called for him to come up and he started a bath. The warm water dulled the pain. I could still breathe through them, no longer talk, but as I stared at the bubbles I thought how fast this all was going. I had imagined myself going through hours and hours of breathing and concentrating. 

With each contraction I asked the mister how apart they were and they were now 4 minutes apart.  It was 3:30 in the morning and I told him I thought we should go to the hospital. "I'll make coffee." he said and headed downstairs. 

Time no longer affected me, what seemed to take forever were only mere minutes. It was 4 am when we were in the car heading towards Kaiserslautern."only 3 contractions and we will be there." the mister told me trying to ease my discomfort. I opened the window and held on to the seatbelt strap. With every contraction my knuckles would turn white and I pull the strap as if I were trying to stop a uncontrollable horse. I breathed in silence and the mister drove through the dark morning hours. 8 contractions later, they were now closer together, we had arrived at the hospital. We still had to go down the stairs of the parking garage and get to the Kreisaal. At first walking was impossible, but afterwards it actually eased the pain a bit. 

Somehow we magically made it to the Kreisaal. I professed I needed the epidural. I could no longer take the pain and the idea of being in this pain for hours was the death of me. She told me they needed to take my blood and it would take an hour to get the epidural, but first she had to check me. I was sure I would be at least 2 or 3 cm dilated. At my previous doctor's appointment I had dilated at all. "well i doubt you will be able to get the epidural. You are 6 cm dilated." What ? I cried. I needed something. I begged. She gave me something That made me sleepy and the contractions were as intense as in the bath. So I could at least breathe. "But you will feel the push." She said in English. I was no longer able to understand nor speak in German. The push..I was going to have a natural birth. Something I wanted, but not in that moment. 

An hour later I was half undressed, didn't care, the IV in my arm, I felt the urge to push. I was at 10 cm. I began to push and a sense of relief and inexplicable pain came over me. I wanted to run away. I heard a primal scream come out of my mouth. My whole body was shaking as they placed me in a better position, kneeling with a rounded back. The pain intensified and I had to push through it. There was no way around it. 4 pushed later I felt relief. Sarah was born at 5:29 am. I had my back to her and slowly, with the help of the doctor and midwife I turned and almost tripped on the umbilical cord. There she was pink and crying. It was over. Finally I could rest. no more pain. 

I began to feel tired and the after-pains were intense. They pushed down on my stomach and it felt as if the were trying to pierce holes through my body. I could hear the mister say "isn't that a lot of blood?" "yes, more than usual." the midwife answered. I do not remember much afterwards. I am told a lost a bit more blood than usual.

After a couple of hours they rolled me into my room. The mister had to leave and I was not quite there. I kept on bleeding and they kept on changing the sheets and talking to me. They would come and inject something into my IV to stop the bleeding, come later and give me more. Until finally I was more aware and conscious. 

I looked around and I was not in a two person room, but instead in a four person room. I was the only one with a baby, I didn't understand why I couldn't move, why i was so weak, and what they were giving me. I was later told my hemoglobin levels were 6.8 when the normal levels is around 12. Whenever I sat up my hearing would go and the room would spin. I remained in bed for three days until finally I could get up on my own.

I felt very lonely in the hospital. The other three woman had their babies in the NICU and the mister was busy trying to get the house ready for when Sarah and I returned. I spent the days just staring at her face...

Fragmented sun

The weather has always affected my state of mind. And with so much gloom, rain, and darkness this summer in addition with the pains and heaviness and sure things falling through I have been subjected to a feeling of fragmentation. Today I do not feel whole, complete, but instead separated from so much of myself. As if the glue that keeps me together has been washed away by all this rain. 

It has been an odd summer. Only a few days of warmth. Lately every night as we sleep with some fresh air I feel cool and chilled. I wake up to the fog in the palatine forest and a sense that summer just decided to never come here. I prefer cooler weather, but I still need a bit of warmth. I need to store it for the long hard winters that I have experienced here so far. 

But back to the sun. I have been holding on to the small boro-ish discharged magic sun. I never had the right place for it. And as I was preparing circles for the larger cloth that I want to make during The Magic Diaries, I decided I should make a place for this sun, even if it were to be left alone. So now it is the lenght of my forearm and awaiting to be embroidered. Maybe a face? 

The number of us

As the Magic Diaries progresses I continue to think about my mandala cloth. It is a ritual, a rite of passage, something that brings about meditation, awareness, connectedness, strength, and I was contemplating what should be in the middle of this cloth. It must be somehting of importance, a starting point and even a returning point. And so I began to think what happens in the beginning. Numbers...We are all just numbers before we are anything else to the world.

As I have seen while being pregnant, a human is all numbers the size of our head, our weight, the amount of time we have existed in utero. And at the moment of our birth number continue to be of significance; the time of birth, the weight, the height, apgar score. And then slowly we become ourselves, independent of numbers, but still reliant on them, still we identify with them. Our birthday tells us what sign we are and what personality traits we have. Our age tells us how much we have experiences, what we should know, what we shouldn't know, how much time we have lived and how much time we might have left. So I ask, are we all just numbers? Our whole being can me measured and quatified. However, there is another side of us that cannot, our imagination, creativity, feelings, perceptions, dreams, and so on.

This is what I want to place in the middle of it all. The division between our physical and impossed awareness versus the metaphysical and unimposed awareness of ourselves.

the elephants are coming.

I have set the mothering piece aside for now, and have been thinking about a bigger piece, especially since The Magic Diaries has started. I have therefore returned to my elephants. I am playing around with magical elements and still remaining with the idea of drawing and filling in with thread.

I realized that a piece can only come alive not only by placing pieces of cloth in a certain manner, but You have to also add more of a personal feel to it. It may seem like a silly realization, but it just dawned on me.

Right now it is raining outside and the breeze is comfortingly cool. It has been an odd summer. There have only been a few days of horrible heat that actually made me sick. I wonder why the heat as refused to set in here. Is it so that we do not get accustomed to it? Am I in for another long winter?? I hope not.

Weather is a funny thing. It affects your mood, the crops, the birds, life in general.

I apologize for the pictures. I still only have my camera phone. But it shall do for now.

life is beautiful...

I have been steadily working on the mothering. Today the sun is shinning, the breeze is cool and things are looking up. 

Mothering flourishing

I have began to add color to her. A few feathers full of color. Her bosom full of nourishing fluid. Her mind swirling. And the center beings to glow and it comes close to completion.