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Sunday, March 22, 2015

mothering



It feels strange to be back in this space after so much time away. February passed in a fog of cabin fever; we were cooped up on bitterly cold days and were more than ready when the last snow of winter melted.

Now my boy and I are wholeheartedly embracing spring. He begs to eat every meal outside, even when we have to bundle up in coats and hats. We water our pea plants and check to see how much the tulips and daffodils have grown. It's easy to mark their daily progress and see where rabbits have taken a nibble or a bite here and there. I'm trying my hardest not to begrudge those rabbits their first taste of spring.

I planted those bulbs in the aftermath of my miscarriage last fall, orderly rows of tiny white daffodils, tall yellow ones, and tulips in white, yellow, and pink. I needed something to hope for, and so I buried those bulbs like promises to myself that come spring things would be better. All winter long they slumbered in the frozen soil, and I must admit that on more than one occasion I doubted they would sprout.

But they have!

I sometimes feel silly at how much delight I take in our daily ritual of checking on the sprouts, but I do delight in it nonetheless. My son and I share in the joy of these growing things. It's not a new baby, but it's new life, and I'll take hope where I can find it.


5 comments:

  1. He got a haircut! What a big boy he looks now. Don't fell silly. He will have memories of your rituals. It all sounds super sweet.

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  2. Ah, little man is getting so big. :)
    Never feel silly about these rituals. Rituals like collecting peas, tomatoes, and radishes from my childhood garden are some of my very favorite memories. Enjoy these times as you are making wonderful memories for both of you.

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  3. aw, he's so beautiful! And checking the sprouts every day sounds like a wonderful routine to have together.

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  4. I don't think you should feel silly. I agree, we do take hope where we can find it. For me, it was running. Perhaps I thought I could run away from the pain or maybe I was charging through it. It didn't get rid of all of my hurt but it helped ease it. Anyway, I hope those sprouts turn into beautiful flowers.

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  5. My heart still breaks for you when I remember your miscarriage. :( Hugs for you dear friend.
    As for rituals, like everyone else said, these are what sweet childhood memories are made of! That's how they are cemented in our memories ... or at least from hearing the stories of these rituals when we are older ;)

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