This is the first time I’m officially celebrating Mothers’ Day now that I’m expecting.  Despite her not having been born, the little one growing in me makes me a mother; an inexperienced mother, but a mother all the same!  Weretoad has arranged for me to get a maternity massage in the near future and brought me to see “The Great Gatsby” last night (which I thoroughly enjoyed).  Today we went to Foxy’s restaurant in Fisher’s Landing on the St. Lawrence River to celebrate with my parents.  The view there is spectacular and they gave mothers a free dessert.  Nom!

I wanted to include a special ritual on my first personal observation of Mothers’ Day.  In particular, I wanted to give offerings to my spiritual mothers.  I’d never thought of doing that before, but becoming a mother really makes one reflect on the sacrifice it takes to be one, and thus I reflected on how I should have been doing that all along!  Originally, my intent was to share a cup of pregnancy tea with my Ancestral Mothers.  The more I thought, I realized that I should also honor the Earth Mother, the Mother Nature Spirits, and the Mother Goddesses, especially my lady Brighid.  They all play an important role in my concept of what it is to be a mother – whether biological or not.  And so, I organized a bit of a tea party devotional!

My very eclectic tea set ready for the job! Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013.

I made a pot of pregnancy tea and brought two teacups and saucers to my altar – one to act as an offering bowl and the other for my portion of the tea during the return flow.  I spoke words of praise and thanks to the Earth Mother and Mothers within the Three Kindreds.  I poured tea and meditated.  I drew omens to see what blessings or lessons they had for me on my new journey and they were very good and encouraging.  The Nature Spirits gave me the raven for initiation and protection.  The Ancestors sent me the dog for companionship and protection.  The Goddesses sent me the boar which signifies the strength of a warrior.  I directed those blessings into my cup of tea and drank them up.  I also directed them into an amulet I intend to have with me at the birth.

My tea party devotional was a wonderful way to connect with the maternal energies on this day.  I feel the rite was successful and I intend to do another next year.

For awhile I gave up on the idea of a doula, but we talked to a few at a recent baby expo in Syracuse.  One said she could be more flexible with a payment plan, which was reassuring, but having to count on someone two hours away would stress me out.  The point of having a doula is that she is there to help you relax.  I feel that I’d constantly look at the clock and wonder where she was.  Yet the possibility, and my husband’s encouragement to ask about flexibility, was nice.

My friend Miss Corinne is also pregnant and was able to find a doula! Corinne likes her character and willingness to provide flexible payment plans so she recommended her to me.  Not only that, but she’s local!  My husband encouraged me to look into it.  Why not?   Unfortunately, this doula can’t commit to my due date which I completely understand.  Life happens and I can’t expect the world to stop turning just for my labor!

And so, I’m letting it go.

Honestly, I’m not terribly beat up about it.  I was a bit disappointed at first because it seemed nearly possible, but in the end it feels that the universe was trying to tell me not to worry so much.  And my saying that is not to denigrate anyone hiring a doula!  I believe in doulas, support all women who want one present, and would love to try that route again if I have another child.  The biggest reason I wanted to hire a doula has been because of the reality that my midwife might not be there.  She was very honest about that; things happen, people get ill, etc.  She has made it equally clear that she doesn’t like missing her patient’s labors but that, sometimes, it happens.  Naturally, that worries me – that there won’t be another midwife on call that night and I’ll be stuck with a doctor who just wants to go home and push the drugs on me to get it over with.  It’s just that, I guess, I need to find the strength within.  I need to have faith in my own resolve and, yes, stubbornness.  I need to have faith in my body and in my Kindreds.

And the doula situation is just another reminder that, in addition, I need to be flexible and accept that things don’t always go the way I want or plan.  So it’s not that I am now over having a doula; it’s simply that the universe needs me to learn a different lesson this time and I need to be open to that.

I also need to have faith in my husband.  Weretoad might not always be the most lovey-dovey person in the world, but he is very supportive and sensitive when it counts.  When I had my wisdom teeth out, for example, he cared for me the way I thought only a parent would.  He set up timers and brought me my medicine exactly when I needed.  He spoke soft reassuring words.  He tucked me in.  He brought me water and food.  He helped me walk when I felt dizzy and nauseous.  He replaced bloody gauze for me.  He cleaned my drug-induced vomit from our patio.  Helped me to the bathroom.  You know you’ve found love when your partner helps you through the most embarrassing situations and yet loves you all the same.  Weretoad occasionally irritates me when he plays one too many video games or looks at forums for ten minutes after I ask him to rub my feet, but he always delivers, and I know that, in serious situations like childbirth, he will be by my side with those soft reassuring words and strong hands that I love so much.  My husband will be my doula, or close enough, this time around*.

And if a situation keeps my midwife away?  I’ll have Brighid, the midwife.

* And he totally took a reiki class with me (despite his skepticism) specifically to learn another technique to calm and comfort.

I called on some friends of mine, including my protogrove sisters, to help organize a mother blessing as part of the shower.  It was really important to me to acknowledge my passage into a new role as well as the coming birth of our little one.  The importance of honoring life’s transitions became crystal clear to me last year when the ladies of Muin Mound welcomed one of our younger members into the fold of womanhood after her first menstruation.  It was a simple rite, but powerful. My own first menstruation was marked with embarrassment due to the timing and the way some family members treated me for it.  My mother did her best to help me feel comfortable and reassured, which was wonderful of her, but it was difficult to feel the transformation was a good thing at the time due to how others were treating me.  I hope my own daughter doesn’t have to feel that way.  A mother blessing for me was very reassuring.  Just as menstruation, birth is to be a messy and painful process – only more so!  This time, I wanted the support and encouragement from fellow women in an environment that celebrated the change rather than tease and act uncomfortable.

My mother blessing necklace made from beads as diverse as my family and friends! I plan to bring it to my labor to give me strength and reassurance. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013.

My friends delivered wonderfully!  The rite, as requested, was simple and non-denominational so as to not make any non Pagan friends and family uncomfortable.  Guests were invited to bring a bead for a necklace to be made and to share their wishes and wisdom.  Everyone had lovely things to say, even those who are not yet mothers.  I originally thought the men would go off and do something else, but they stayed for the blessing as well.  Some even participated, sharing words of advice for Weretoad.  When it was my mother’s turn, I couldn’t help but tear up.  She had brought a tiny bracelet I made when I was little.  The fact that she saved this all these years brought up so much emotion.  As my baby grows, I’ve come to realize just how much my own parents love me.  It’s an irrational love that is unconditional and very deep.  My mother’s having saved that tiny bracelet reminded me of that love, and I hope she knows how much I love her back.  I hope my own daughter can understand that love one day.  It was never so clear until I became pregnant.

Gifts to remind me of the support and strength I have. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013.

Later, after the new necklace had been assembled, my friends leading the blessing read a prayer/guided meditation to remind me that I come from a long line of mothers and that my labor will be my own.  They placed a crown of flowers upon my head, a candle blessed with everyone’s energy at my feet, bright orange flowers in my lap, and the necklace of love and wisdom around my neck.  It was very moving and I felt so touched and reassured by it all.  Motherhood is an important milestone in my life.  I’m so grateful that so many came to help me celebrate it and my little baby.

Northern Rivers Protogrove, ADF | Bringing the Ár nDraíocht Féin tradition to Northern NY.

One of my gardening goals this year is to learn to work with the cycles of the moon. According to local herbalist Sue-Ryn Burns, the last quarter of the lunar cycle is a perfect time for tilling soil, applying fertilizer, and pruning.  Although I’m a couple days early, I wanted to take advantage of both that energy and the fertility of Bealtaine.  I finally emptied my little compost bin onto a tarp to separate the good stuff from everything that’s still decomposing.  This is probably my most successful year of composting yet!  It’s a small operation given my inability to have a large compost heap, but definitely worth the effort!

It started last year with a bunch of garden scraps and some supposedly compostable cups from a cafe with sustainable goals. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2012.

Everything went into this small bin. It’s probably about five gallons. I drilled holes into the bottom. I want to get another and then some sort of pan to collect the juices.  It’s supposed to be wonderful for the plants!   I’m very lucky to have a garage in which to store my compost bin. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013.

I apologize for the blurry shot, but you get the gist. This is the compost right before winter. I continued to add green and brown matter, usually in the form of compostable, dye-free cardboard. The cold helped the vegetable matter break down faster once the thaw hit. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2012.

A small pile of beautiful, dark compost after I separated it from the still decaying matter. For those curious, the compostable cups are still degrading. That will probably take a long time… I wanted to see what happened, but I’m glad I didn’t throw too many in! Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013.

Composting is a wonderful activity, and I definitely recommend it to gardeners, even if you rent like I do!  There are many ways to go about it and it’s a great way to reduce food waste.  It’s very magical and earthy, too.  Truly a great way to teach children about decomposers and soil.

I mixed my compost with last year’s potting soil and half a large bag of compost and soil from the local garden center that wasn’t touched last year.  My husband helped me to shovel it all back into various pots.  We added some more soil to the moon garden and I reconfigured the stones.  All the while, the sun set and an owl sang its song.  It was a bit of work for this pregnant lady, but Weretoad did all the heavy lifting and I enjoy this sort of exercise.  Like my late grandfather, I always have some project and am not entirely happy if I don’t!  I can’t and won’t let my pregnancy keep me from one of my greatest joys – my garden!  After all, it’s a huge part of my spirituality and I intend to introduce my child to this hobby ASAP!

Soon, the moon will start to wax and I will plant greens and flowers.  Meanwhile, I have dandelion roots in the dehydrator and tender young dandelion leaves in the fridge for a Bealtaine dinner tomorrow.  May your Bealtaine be filled with fertility – be it in the garden, your family, your artistic pursuits, your relationships, or finances!

People planted baby trees to celebrate Arbor Day. Specialists taught them how to do it properly to ensure the survival of the trees. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013.

Yesterday I joined my friend Miss Corinne to celebrate Arbor Day with her organization The Thousand Islands Land Trust.  It was a really excellent event held at their Zenda Farm Preserve  just outside of Clayton, NY.  Admission was free and included information about planting and caring for trees, local wildlife, and local conservation efforts.  Volunteers were able to help plant trees throughout the preserve.  Children (and the young at heart) were able to see live animals from the local zoo and organic farm, participate in a community art project, and make seed bombs and peanut butter pinecone bird feeders!  Those last activities were what I volunteered to help with!  It was messy but a lot of fun.  Not many people knew what seed bombs are (Miss Corinne shared some information about that on her blog if you don’t either) so it was really exciting to share that with adults while the little ones played with the clay.  I think it’s a great activity to get children excited about gardening, and it can spiral up into a greater awareness of creating habitats for pollinators, urban renewal, and even permaculture!  Several boy scouts in attendance made as many as they could! Kudos to Miss Corinne for putting together a great activity table!

Seed bomb and pinecone bird feeder station. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013

Community art project featuring bark from old trees and leaves painted by local children who attended the event. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013.

Everyone enjoyed the visiting animals, including this wood turtle! He moved surprisingly fast and seemed very excited to see people. Other animals at the event included a kestrel, a python, and a very friendly goat. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013.

If you live in the North Country, you should definitely bookmark The Thousand Islands Land Trust’s event calendar.  There are hikes, kayak excursions, gardening, and wildlife viewing opportunities for young and old alike.  They’re ways to connect to and even help with local conservation – something that I feel should be very important to Druids.  Many are free to attend which is wonderful for people (like myself) who struggle with money over the summer but still want to have fun along the beautiful St. Lawrence River.  I can’t wait to sign my little one up for some of their exciting kid treks!

While at the Arbor Day event, I saw many signs of spring.  Nature called, as she frequently does to pregnant ladies, but the farm preserve’s toilet was out of order.  I took a little hike into the forest to find a special tree, and along the way I noticed several trout lily leaves and even some trillium leaves!  They’ll be blooming soon!  Those are always a sure sign to me that winter is definitely over.

After returning home, I saw another sign of spring in the form of a stowaway.  That’s right – I had a tick on me!  I discovered it when I itched my expanding belly.  The darn thing was hiding on the underside of my stomach where I can’t easily see!  In all my years of running around forests, I’d never been bit by a tick before, and I naturally freaked out because I don’t want to get Lyme disease – especially while pregnant!  Weretoad carefully removed it with tweezers but, because we were both new to this, he killed and removed it from the house.  I guess it’s recommended you put it in a bag just in case you need to test or identify it.  He thinks it was a dog tick rather than deer, and my father agrees based on the description. It was still flat, thus it hadn’t been on long enough to engorge itself – which, from what I read, is when you’re at risk of catching the disease.  I hope and pray everything is ok!  This pregnant lady doesn’t need that extra worry…

Yet there’s a sign of spring in Northern NY if there ever was one – the ticks are awake.  Just a little reminder that, along with the beauty, there are those who we consider outsiders.  They’re an essential part of creation but boy, they can be a pain!

My grandfather as an infant. Photographer unknown.

My grandfather’s health had been declining steadily since the Winter Solstice.  He came down with a form of skin cancer and the treatments they utilized didn’t heal him.  He had started to decline mentally as well, and we heard from his hospice worker that it wouldn’t be much longer.  Honestly, I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did given his condition.  Papa was always a very strong and stubborn man.  He didn’t like to ask for help and he didn’t like to stop working.  I imagine letting go was difficult for him for awhile.  But his quality of life just wasn’t there anymore.  He hardly had his wits about him, or so the rest of my family says.  The last time I saw him was during their annual Christmas Eve get-together.  He was in a lot of pain because he hadn’t taken his medication yet, but couldn’t until it was time for bed and the guests had left.  It meant for a very rushed visit, and he could hardly hear us.  I gave him a kiss on the head and told him I love him.  Because he developed a bad infection, I was warned not to visit since for fear it would complicate my pregnancy.  It was prudent and practical, and I hope he understood/understands that…

Last night, I talked to my parents on the phone and it sounded like his condition was worse.  I prayed to Brighid before bed and asked that she would comfort him and help him rest.  His last battled had been drawn out so long, so painfully…  During sleep, I saw him in my dreams.  He didn’t look well.  His neck was all raw, his face puffy, and his right eye red – but he smiled.

I got off the phone with my mother a little while ago and she told me he passed away around 3.

I knew it was coming, prayed for it for his sake, and know it is part of life.  He had lived a very long and, overall, very healthy and active life.  I cried all the same.  When it comes down to it, despite my very practical side, I’m quite sensitive.  From a very early age, when he “hired” me to help mop his shop floor, rake leaves, or paint his fence, he taught me the value of hard work and a job well-done.  He always said he would die when he stopped working – stopped doing the things he loved.  That always struck me as a very positive attitude.  Not that rest isn’t valuable, but he never saw aging as an excuse to be lazy or to let others do a job for him.   He mowed his lawn, plowed his driveway, and fixed things around the house until he was no longer physically capable.  And his mind was almost always occupied with something – local history, learning how to use computers, writing books, and genealogy.

That last interest would also turn out to be a huge influence on me.  He taught me about some of my ancestors and showed me how valuable it was to learn about them.  Truly, some of my spirituality comes from that respect he had.  I know more about where I came from because of him.  He taught me to love and honor my ancestors, and now he is one.  I pray that he meets the ancestors he read and wrote about in the Otherworld, and that he learns all the mysteries he searched so tirelessly for in life.

Hail to you, Papa!  Hail to the Ancestors!

Every Earth Day, I’ve made a point of going into the forest to pick up a bag of litter.  I dedicate the action to the Earth Mother and local spirits.  This year I’m just not feeling up to it.  The bigger I get, the harder it is to bend over and navigate the uneven terrain in the forest.  Rather than feel bad about what I can’t do, I decided to set myself a smaller goal.  Armed with a little bag and garden gloves, I made a small circuit around my home.  I picked up a ton of trash in just a small area.  Was it casually thrown after an outdoor snack?  Did it blow out of the garbage?  Probably a combination.  Shopping bags, old Halloween decor, plastic eggs, disposable utensils, candy wrappers…  Rather than focusing on blame and disgust in my species, I tried to think about the difference one person can make.  Now the land around my apartment is cleaner!  To top it off, I got a little exercise and did something nice for the local spirits.

Tragedy was a distant concept for me when I was little. With such matters, we really do seem to come into the world tabula rasa.  I don’t really know how I learned about it.  It probably started with the death of my goldfish at five, but I don’t really know.  My mother nearly died giving birth to my sister a few years before that, but I don’t recall knowing that until much later.  I was probably in bed when news of genocide across the pond aired on the news.  ”Stranger danger” was probably the biggest hint that the world was not the safest place.  One thing I do remember is my parents often saying that I would understand their worry when I grew up and had children of my own.

Now here I am, in my third trimester, carrying my first child.  So much has happened in the world since this little one was conceived.  There were shootings in malls and schools.  There have been riots, civil wars, and terror in the Middle East.  There was a terrible, deadly gang rape in India.  Starving and dead seals have been washing up on the west coast.  Natural disasters.  Nuclear threats.  Explosions.  My goodness!

Yet I suppose it’s always been that way.  When our ancestors had little contact with the rest of the world, awful things still happened each day.  There were invasions, pillaging, raping, plague,  high infant death rates…  and always some mystical other in the woods.  Goblins.  Witches.  Boggies.  Fairies.  The world has always been threatening.

Despite the worry and the realities of danger, people keep having babies!  Biological impulse aside, a part of me has decided that we do this out of hope. We hope we can raise a decent human being who will not contribute to tragedy.  We hope he or she will rise above difficult situations and perhaps make the world a better, more peaceful place.

Hope.

In Greek mythology, when Pandora opened the box full of tragedy, it’s said the last “spirit” to emerge was Hope.  Like the fire from Prometheus, it is a blessing that gives humanity comfort amidst the greatest darkness.

I’ve been doing a lot of sewing for babies recently – for my child and my niece who is also on the way!  When I sit with needle and thread, I consciously put love and hope into what I make.

There will be difficulties, little ones, but I hope the tribe can give you the comfort and safety you need, and that you can meet your own challenges with grace, wisdom, and strength.

Live and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget that, until the day comes when God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these words: Wait and hope!

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas

A play blanket I made for my niece featuring heart-shaped lily pads. My applique technique is improving, but I still have a long way to go. Again, interfacing might have helped… Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013.

A fun cupcake baby bonnet I made for my niece. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013

A froggy jacket and matching bib I made for my little one. Photo by Grey Catsidhe, 2013.