Month: March 2021

She’s Out!

~ Jenna ~ 2 Comments

I’m having a tough time distinguishing between what I said and what I thought; what I dreamt and what I did. In a matter of several beautiful, empowering, impossibly hard hours, I transitioned from being pregnant to postpartum, a baby in my womb to one on my chest. 

Our world has instantly become a sleepless blur of sweet snuggles, talking more about sleep than actually sleeping, and straight up survival mode. She’s only been here a week and I can barely scroll to photos on my phone of a time before her. 

She belongs here with us; a perfect fit. I was completely convinced for months that she was a boy. With happy tears in his eyes, Ryan announced, “It’s a girl”, and in that surprising moment, everything was right. Of course it’s her, I felt in my bones. There is something about her that makes me feel rest assured, all is well. An essence of light, softness and hope. 

Mara Jeffries; our rounded edge on a very jagged couple of years. There was a point where I didn’t think three kids was even possible. Two was too hard…life was too hard. Yet here we are, living into the weave of chaos and beauty, knitting a whole family. A completeness I wasn’t sure I would ever feel. 

While the world spins madly on, I rest peacefully with a newborn on my chest. Her toes the size of pez (equally as edible). Her ears, the same perfect shape as my dad’s. Long, thin eyelashes frame her deep blue eyes that wander curiously about her new world. I rest and relax more this third time around, knowing how important my wellbeing is to that of our family’s.  And I also rest in gratitude. After meeting death firsthand and also watching friends give everything they’ve earned and every part of their hearts for the hope of a baby, there is nothing about this birth that I take for granted. 

The name Mara is an homage to my mom and mother-in-law’s middle name; Marie. An honoring of Mother Mary who I have grown into a deep connection with. Mara coincidentally shares the beginning and end of Maisley and Coura. It’s also the Gaelic word for Sea. And Jeffries is, of course, in celebration of my Dadio. 

“She’s out, she’s out!” yells Coura, to anyone who will listen. Our baby girl is here.

Until Baby

~ Jenna ~ 1 Comment

The girls got haircuts. We went to Leucadia Donuts, the local shop with windows covered in stickers. The car seats are installed; three in a row. We set up the birth room and then we set it up again. My altar of inspiration featuring Mother Mary, Jesus, Dadio, Surfing Madonna, Mary Magdalene, magical trees, the northern lights and a few other favorites are all framed by the window sill and spare Christmas lights that Ryan lovingly taped up.

I’m 39 weeks with baby three, and somehow I feel like he or she is running late. Braxton Hicks have been around since week 20, yet their regular rhythm has intensified. I feel grounded and ready. I’ve learned to rest more this time around, now that I’m not trying to prove how able of a pregnant person I am. What a relief. I feel overwhelmed and scared too, but it’s not the biggest piece of the feelings pie (at least today).

Every day in this waiting period before the baby is some sort of bonus day from the universe; in between this life and the next. A rebirth for me, a birth for him or her, all in a timing not on my clock. Will we even remember what life was like right now with two kids? Pizza Fridays at the beach and dancing to Maroon Five.

I dream of a beautiful sunny daytime birth. A space where Ryan and I are fully in sync and where I release this baby into the water and he or she is placed on my chest. Fully engulfed in an ocean of light, a mosaic of angels in my body and all around; fully held, healthy and safe. A birth of grace and ease where I continually find that unshakeable core of trust within and come back home to it over and over again.

Even though my tricky mind speaks otherwise, the rest doesn’t matter. Do we have enough mugs in case the midwives need tea? Do we need more ice in case I need a cold towel? Where is the peppermint essential oil I’ll certainly be craving at centimeter 7?

We bought an ez up canopy for the midwives in case the 200 square foot birthing suite isn’t big enough. It looks like a midwife check-in station at an organized sports race that should be stocked with GU and electrolytes. Although, we do have a space heater and chairs. I wonder if they’ve ever had accommodations so glamorous? Ryan is wondering if a band will come to cheer me on. Jordan suggested signs with silly puns. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve compared birth to a marathon.

However, this marathon doesn’t have a set course, and the race day of March 10th is just an educated guess.

Longings

~ Jenna ~ 1 Comment

My longings are tugging again,
asking for her to come out and play. 
The wild one.
The spontaneous, change-craving one. 
The one whose time was all her own.
The one who thought slow and simple was for the birds. 
The one who could effortlessly free fall into love
without the fear
of losing. 

Cocooned on the brink of new life,
the longings sit and wait.
To sit and wait,
for the kids to grow up,
so we can find her again. 

But what if the sitting and waiting is actually
the finding and living?
What if slow and simple gives me wings?
What if I don’t lose myself a little more this time around;
but find a treasure trove of wholeness deep in the ground I’m unearthing by
staying?
What if that’s what I’ve been longing for
all along?

Small moments of ordinary magic stretching into an entire life.