Dortha's Delight

Just writing the title, the Birth, makes my eyes well up with tears because…yes cause it changed my life. I can do anything. It taught me I am power. I am woman, and I can conquer my small corner of earth with love and tenderness if I just constantly struggle for it. For isn’t life a struggle? For life, for joy, for wealth and piece of mind. We struggle tell we die.

And that is how they came to me: with the greatest struggle in pain. I always had heard women who had had natural non-medicated births talk about the ecstasy of birth. I could in no way relate and even felt a bit intimidated by their words.

At about 3 AM my water broke. I wasn’t having contractions so I went to get the huge bed pads that I had set out just in case this happened. I had had a very strong feeling it would happen THIS way and was prepared. I knew it could be a long time even with my water broke before contractions started, so I went back to sleep. I awoke about 5:30 AM or so with serious contractions. I knew right away they were coming. These contractions were way more intense then the contractions I had with my first son. I had not lost my water with him. I texted both my doulas. Two: one for each baby! Ha!
I am so grateful I had them Both. One of my birth doulas who is much more then a doula but really a lay midwife (who was doing me a huge favor by acting as my doula) and my other doula a woman who when I met her I knew I wanted holding my hand through the process. I don’t know what I would have done without them and my husband.

So Liz called me right back. She was up early that day because her sister was in a marathon or maybe it was a triathlon, but I knew she’d be up. She told me to wait until I felt I needed to wake Al and Then call her back when I needed her over. I waited til about 7ish to wake Al, I think. It may have been a bit earlier. Things were starting to tunnel in. All I could focus on was labor. I talked with Aundria, my other doula on the phone. I was feeling good for what I knew was going to be the ride of my life. When I woke up Al, I told him to call them both over to the house and that my toddler Alexi needed to go now. He was so cute skipping around the house as mommy struggled to bring his brothers into the world. When Aundria and Liz got to the house I can’t remember where I was but I remember Aundria saying, it was gorgeous and it was time for a walk. I was completely flabbergasted, but I trusted my ladies. We walked slowly down Ribble Road to the stop sign and back, It was very slow. It hurt so bad. Once we got close to getting back to the house I had slowed to a snails pace but man it got my labor going.

WE got back to the house and I got in the bath. People took turns pouring water over top of me. At some point Aundria knew by the sounds I was making that it was time. Liz and Aundria agreed and they came to talk to me. I can’t remember if it was before or after that but they had me eat. I had eggs and yogurt. I struggled through this, but I had a little.

I was pretty deep in the tunnel when they told me I needed to go on to the hospital. I didn’t want to go, but Al helped me get dressed really slowly. That was agony; Getting dressed.

So far everything just seemed to be following its path as it should with all the support that surrounded me. The ride to the hospital was not so bad. I expected it to be much worse with the bumps and such. I remembering moaning quite a bit and Al being completely calm. When we got there Aundria was waiting and Liz and Aundria and Al walked me up. We ignored the front registration and they told me to act as if I wasn’t in labor so we could sneak in. That was brilliant. By the time we got a room I was getting close to transition. The nurse looked more then a little bewildered. We told her to call Dr. Stell but she didn’t because they wanted to check me first. That was funny. I was 8 or 9 cm dilated. hehe! She kept trying to get the babies double-monitored but couldn’t find baby A. She tried and tried and tried. We asked if ultrasound wouldn’t be easier but only when Dr. Stell came did they finally do an ultrasound. Much easier. See they require in a twin birth that the babies are continuously monitored. This is why Twin mommas are not allowed to labor in the birthing tubs and why I did not come in when my water broke because hospital policy does a lot of things that is not in the best interest of the mother whether birthing twins or singletons. Clark is Awesome don’t get me wrong but for a twin birth you must fight doubly hard for your birth and for your babies. My twins had a despondency and B was breech so if we had come too early the concern would have been even thicker in the room. But by getting there so late on they didn’t have time to intervene. They had to help me deliver my baby. It was awesome!

Anyway, shes trying to double monitor me and I puke all over myself and that’s when they give up with that and Dr. Stell orders that we can just monitor them with ultrasound. Smart lady! And Yes she is there. She gets there fast. Sure she booked it when she found out her patient who she knew was stubborn as hell was 8 or 9 cm.

Dr. Stell says its time for us to walk or me to ride in a wheelchair to the OR. Twin births have to deliver in the OR especially if a baby is breech as B was. They ask me if I want clothes. I am thinking why the hell do I care. I walk naked to the OR with my support at both my sides.

Once in the OR there seems to be a million people. Contractions are intense but I can handle them. I remember Chance’s head hitting my pelvic bone. I remember the feeling as his head finally rounded over it. I remember the feeling as he emerged and I pushed like hell. He was born at about 3PM. Everyone was so excited. I wasn’t sure because I knew there was another baby. Another baby that was breech. I told Dr. Stell “I’m ready!!!” She was gonna pull him out by his feet. I was sooo ready. She did a quick ultrasound to see where he was. He flipped right there. He was no longer breech. I swear to me it sounded like the room burst out in clapping but maybe it was just my imagination. I was flipping out. It meant i had to push another baby out. I was so damn tired. Another baby out. Breech seemed easy at this point.

The contractions started to lesson and when they came they felt worse. We moved me in what seemed like every position imaginable. I nursed Chance to bring about contractions. These were the worst contractions I have ever felt. A couple hours passed. I was starting to freak. At one point I lost my marbles. I started screaming for an epidural or anything. I felt as if it could not happen. I could not push hard enough. Funny but true..I felt like I needed a nap. Finally Dr. Stell broke Conner’s water. That sucked! Now it hurt even worse and I pleaded for interventions. Thank goodness I had made an agreement with my doulas that even if I begged that was not what I wanted. Dr. Stell suggested after over 2.5 hours of pushing that we could try the vacuum. I agreed. I pushed and Dr. Stell assisted with the vacuum to help me get Conner’s head over my pelvic bone. I pushed again without the vacuum and he was out at around 6PM. I was elated. I then had to deliver the placentas. Both babies were in my arms. It hurt to deliver the placentas and when they came out I lost A LOT of blood. They helped me move from the OR table to a bed. I never felt a softer bed in my life. While I was rolled to recovery Conner latched on all by himself! Chance laid snuggled in my arms. I was in heaven. Later when I tried to pee I passed out. They suggested i get a blood transfusion. The next day I did. They were here. My boys were here. Here and healthy and this Momma knew after birthing her boys that she could do it! She would do it. It was miraculous. We are women. WE are powerful.

Today I am taking 15 minutes for you and me. The babies are screaming, My shower is waiting. My toddler has a dirty diaper, but I miss you, and I rarely take 15 minutes for us, and I have so much to tell you.

So much has happened John since we last talked. I have grown up so much. You’d be so proud of me. I am working on being more like you. You have big shoes to fill! This weekend mom sees the twins for the second time and my fog lifts more and more. Last weekend Uncle David and Susan came over. You know I hadn’t seen them since I was a teenager. Stupid family grudges!!! The weekend before I saw Aunt Lisa and Gerry. I am trying to process all this…And without you it is very hard to do.

I wanna call you. I wanna share it with you, and I feel bad like such an idiot for not reconciling before you went away. I would have made you so happy. I wonder if my fog hurt you as bad as I think it did. My denial. My stubborn soul. So I try to be more like you. In my 15 minutes I listen to your last album.

You were listening to Tom Petty’s Wildflowers and I cry because you never get to know how strong your sister was having her babies. Or how strong your parents are grieving your death…or how my twin Chance looks like dad or Conner like Alfred…And that Alexi is your spitting image. He acts so much like you did when I was born. It is so much so that dad had a hard time with it. He hurt so missing you. Our birthday month. Where are you?

You are gone. I am lost in so many ways without you. Tom Petty says its time to move on…time to get going…what lies ahead I have no way of knowing, and I see you on the path to the great unknown and I wonder so many things. I question everything. I love greater. I feel the preciousness of life so much more. I’ll tell you more another day…my brother…my angel. That ends our 15 minutes:)

This story begins as all stories begin, at the first few syllables of life, the living and breathing of the moment, the pulse of the heart, the quickening of breath, the turmoil of childbirth, yet without a mother or a father to be there for me. I call it the second wind of living, when you are out on your own to the ways of the world, when the path for guidance leads back to yourself and you must make the right steps to do it accordingly. Its called being an adult and dealing with the consequences, facing the final drum role when the curtain closes and no one is there to clap. And that is how it all got started, at least for me. Because in the beginning was the word and the word was God, and I was learning how to put it all down on paper, like a child who is just learning how to walk. But I was stricken by an illness, that 1 in 5 are plagued with, and I couldn’t stay the course, if there is a course to follow. I was like many others, a bi-polar, or if you’d rather call it, manic-depressive, and all the tools were not at my fingertips. And you need your fingers if you’re going to write a novel. So I began late, after the storm had passed, which is where I am right now, a little disheveled and worse for the wear, but not groveling with pity, rather beaming with self-confidence and assured of my state of mind. Because I’ve seen the state of the universe, of the quivering atoms that bounce about my brain, and I’ve met others who have seen the same. And I am here to report upon it, to open up your mind to the possibilities of humanity, to seek a new avenue where the mentally ill can be acknowledged and respected, where the terrible stigma attached to this disease can be wiped away like a clean shoreline where the tide has left its mark. For there are people in this world, people like me, who have walked between worlds or have seen new ones between the one we are living in, and they are as down to earth as the roots of a tree, and as heavenly as the stars that shine down upon us. I know because I have talked to them, because I have seen their glowing heart, and it beats the rhythm and the time of life eternal. I see all of them as my friends in one capacity or another. In Biblical times a vision or a dream about God or the universe was believed to be fact, not a fiction where the visionary was just considered crazy. So I am here to testify to the truth of it, to the ways we have left behind, to the people who can provide us so much light in an age where darkness seems to be the prevailing thought. Because without new thoughts and ideas the earth will die a quick death, and those, if any, who are left behind will have to scrounge for the few remaining crumbs of life. And so I will begin to tell you what I know, and how my knowledge affected me, how those like myself have so much to give, and how those who help us are like angels in a hell only those of the mind will ever understand
John

I may just be cooky

As my mom used to say

But even if I am wrong

And there is no spirit world

No world of awe

You know the one

You can slide down rainbows

And look after your loved ones still living

The place we reunite with those departed

And we refuel for our next trip

to the physical…

Maybe I am just cooky.

And this isn’t really true.

It’s just what my mind makes up to cope with

This

This

Unbearable loss.

Those of you that have lost ones close

you Know what I mean

I guess

The best answer I have

Is screw it.

Let my mind

Its beautiful protection mechanisms comfort me.

Fucking screw it!

I might be cooky, but I might be right.

And it doesn’t matter.

Not really

Because even if this world, this one world

Is it

Is this it?

If this is it, then you, you my loved one.

You are in me.

I feel you all over me.

Your grace surrounds me and

I vow

As your sister, and your biggest fan.

To carry your message.

Because you are still a light.

Even if you needed to blow out your earthly one…

I’ll be watching for signs.

I’ll remember that I know nothing.

But I will always carry you

I carry you, my sweet brother until I am ash.

I carry you

John,

There were two of us, and I still can’t wrap my mind around the thought that your physical self is gone. We didn’t get a last Doodle John thing. You know like we would do, and please say it’s real that your spirit is with me. That you are standing by me as I write this cause otherwise I really don’t know how to go on. Because you were supposed to be with me for a very long time, and I know we weren’t twins, but you were it. You were my big brother, and I was the other half. The more whiny half for sure but you loved me, and I loved you. You took care and I know you would hate to see all this pain. I know you were in so much pain here you couldn’t see quite how much your loss would hurt us so, but we loved you, we love you sooo much. And we feel so deficient. We know we couldn’t have necessarily done anything, but we aren’t sure, not really. Because we could have been more accepting and more graceful and more like you. But we weren’t. We were more selfish and me in a bubble that I want to scream at myself for. There was nothing more important to me then you, mom, and dad, and I went and tried to block shit out. I am so sorry. I miss you so much. I am so sad. John, please say there is shit on the other side cause the only way I can deal is knowing there is. You need to come talk to me more. Please. I know you are supposedly dead. I know I held your dead hand and you were burned and made to ashes, but I turned the other day and swore it would be you. I can handle it. Please come see me. Please. I feel you’ve talked to me and come in my dreams, but I wanna see you more. I feel like I’m falling. Like I’m losing you. I can’t lose you. You are my big brother. You meant the world to me. Please. I love you. doodle

Since yesterday I have been completely weepy given one magical set off after another. Today I was “set off” or my weepy button was pushed by Bob Dylan. Whenever I hear that voice, so deep and rustic, my mind explodes with memories from my childhood. My dad is in our den on Maryland Avenue in the heart of the Highlands with his stereo blasting while he sings cutely. I run about the house occasionally peeking in to catch a glimpse of my daddy. I’m sure I was smiling ear to ear. Then in that same room as I got older I’d sneak into the cabinet that he hand built just for his record collection to flip through them myself. Sometimes I’d get enough courage and slip one of the shiny black records out and put it on the player and pump, pump, pump, pump it up. I’d make sure, of course, that dad was nowhere near the house. I don’t know why I thought he’d kill me if he found me in his records. Maybe because as a father he was forced into the role as disciplinarian. But as you’d expect one time he came home and found me indulging in some Dylan at the ripe age of 10, or was it Joni Mitchell…dancing to “Circle Game.” To this day that song floods my eyes with tears. And back on point, hehe, so he smiles, and of course turns it down a bit.

Man, I am on a kick. I just love him so much. Even with all the turmoil we went through and leaving my home at 15 with what felt like to me nothing but a few boxes to fend for myself. He has still always been my rock and my guide. We both have known such great pain and we have known it together. He taught me how you cope with a mentally ill mother and brother. He put the lock on my door when I was ten and afraid of her. He protected me. He still does. I will always protect him too. We have great loves in our lives and my dad is one of mine. I treasure him. I know he treasures me because his actions show me everyday. Love, Love, Love! Love is life’s blood! And you know I’m on the verge of tears.

Baby boy, you woke up with a cry that made my heart break; My sweet, sweet baby boy. You were gasping for air. Your little hand showing momma you couldn’t breathe. We knew what we needed to do, all we could do, sweet baby boy, was take care of you. So we called 911 and off we went. To see you in more pain the we’ve ever seen. Daddy with you in the ambulance, your bond strengthened even greater. Daddy’s never leave baby boy’s side. Daddy’s like yours never do.

Breathing treatments, needles, medicine, and plenty of questions later accompanied by the usual lack of sleep and misery experienced in the hospital we brought you home. And baby, sweet baby boy, you sleep comfortable in your bed, comfortable in your home, and forever in our arms. We will never leave you baby boy. We cry and smile and feel in a bigger and more sublime way all because of you. Our universe is you little boy. Our everything. Mommy and Daddy love you baby boy.

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We live in a time, in this very place, in this social circle of my friends and some relatives that I call charmed. It a specific though to whether we are born to parents who can provide us privilege, a life free of or recovered from mental illness or dire diseases. We are so fragile, but if we are so lucky to be at this point in our circumstance and still unbroken then we must be grateful.

Fun and fairytale surrounds us. It makes me immensely sad for those I know who are close and are not so blessed. Life dealt them a hard hand. If there is a God, then he is mean!

And for those of us left, the charmed ones, we float. Our children smile and laugh and jump and play surrounded by educational instruments that not only teach and inspire but make them smile.

We went to the Science Center this morning with Grandpa and Uncle John. We played in the water area that is amazingly fun and teaches practical approaches in plumbing and waterworks. These toys, these tools to a smarter child just have been getting better and better for those with access. If you can and if you do. Take a moment to feel the sublime of our lives. The sacred lives all around us. The sacred is in our acknowledgment of this miraculous life. I am so blessed, and I know I am so aware of that.

The Awareness of this great gift I’ve been given by the raffle of life helps me to feel joy.  I know it helps me to celebrate each and every precious day I have without detriment. I am far to aware how this gift can so swiftly be taken from me and mine and I must treasure every great day we have cause in life’s great raffle you never know if you will win or loose. So today I win and I hope that those suffering on this day can soon have the glimmer too.

But for those I love currently living a harder path. You teach me. You are my inspiration to live a fuller and happier life. If you are a charmed one, right now, then let yourself glisten and shine and tippy tippy toe toe through life as merrily as you can!

It’s my Birthday, and I am having a blast. I got to sleep until almost 8am, and then came downstairs to the most precious little boy and big boy a girl could wish for. My big guy left for work, and me and my little man went to the Science Center to play with our friends. I came home and my Alfred (the big man) pulled up with flowers that are so fragrant that I felt the smell pulling me in closer and closer…And Then, And Then, And Then, And Then. I am like a child on Christmas. I get so excited. hehe!!!!

But I gotta keep telling it, so THEN we ordered my Iphone b-day present and I turned on mixed Pandora after Al went back to work and this gorgeous song started playing “Where we gonna go from here” And I must pause and sway……….I swayed, Did you? Now, I just wanna hear the Ben Harper Angel song and I’ll be set.

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OOOOHHHH, Ohh, and did I tell you that while Al was here I found out he was really trying to figure out how he could get me the plaque I wanted just like I wanted it. I know he’s the best freaking ever. Knowing I really wanted the “Happy People Award” is a true testament to how he knows and loves me. I feel lucky. I am. Life is gorgeous if you let it be. But I admit it blows ass too sometimes. You just gotta let it explode when it’s good and implode when it sucks.

Just remember Birthday boys and girls. It doesn’t get much better then this…So dance and laugh and sing cause life, it is here. It’s here today, rejoice! We have life! I am a dork, but cute when I’m happy. So thank the heavens where the sun comes shining through that this day I feel such joy! So gotta put the Angel song on now. Hit play…hear fun stuff, la, la, la ,la ,la ,la ,la and on we go….Or this one, now listen to this one, hehe

And the days not over yet:)

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There is this mysterious and ridiculous button in me that is either on or off. I wish I could find this button and I’d touch it and turn myself on. No, I’d slam it on because when I am off I don’t make art. At least the kind of art that then produces that squealing joyful feeling that comes out of every orifice of my being. I need stuff ooozing from my orifices please!!! You get the picture.

I know exactly how I could produce the art, how I could seduce the art, but it just won’t go until one day it does and I wonder how the hell I wasted all that time being off. Like what could I have been doing? The only time I can see that I understand being off was the first 9 months or so of my little mans life. During that time I squealed with freaking joy and it was totally over this LOVE I had never known; So that ART dry spell, I get…But now I have no excuses.

I am filled up with life. Ready and willing to take on the next art adventure… but I’m not ON? What the Fuck!!!! I know this like the back of my hand and soon cause I feel it building I’m going to turn ON again and damn I’m gonna do the dance. You know…You’ll hear me shimmy from miles away. Because you see creation is more then just ART…It is more then just the written word or the cut piece of stained glass. Creation is the spirit within us. It Rocks us and it Carries us. Creation and its life force are my GOD. Religion awaits me at the table of creativity born from sweat, laughter, and tears. My spirit is renewed. The miracles are found. My GOD doesn’t wait for me in a church. The life force that people call God is in my hands as they make, as they create. I have found my alter. I just need to freaking turn on! I know I will. I have faith in that. I just gotta keep trucking. It’ll come. It always does.

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