makar [ˈmækər]
n (Literature / Poetry) Scot a creative artist, esp a poet
[a Scot variant of maker]

Wednesday, May 31, 2017

I'm playing the waiting game and it's agonising, but I'm trying to be at one with it and accept it for what it is, while also going slightly insane. My baby's due date is three days away and every day I'm experiencing little spells of contractions and backache and cramps. Then it eases off and I realise that this day will not be the day. I feel very grounded in my body and all its aches and pains, but also, at times, rather trippy and detached from reality. I can't quite believe that I'll be meeting another baby soon, even while I sit here and feel her limbs move under my skin. It is as awe-inspiring and miraculous as the first time, maybe even more so because I know all that comes next. And despite, having given birth three times, I'm scared and nervous. All I can remember is that it hurts a lot and it is the hardest work I have ever done, and at the end you feel like a fucking goddess for surviving it. That the moment, they put the baby on your chest, you go: "oh here you are at last - I know you, little one". And it is a fierce, fierce emotion that courses through you; something even more powerful, more primal, more brutal, than love.

Oh my, here we go...

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