Unassisted Miscarriage Complete

Well I'm singing this song, cause it's time it was sung
I've been putting it off for a while,
Cause it's harder by now, and the truth is so clear
That I am crying when I'm seeing you smile.

So goodbye, so long, the road calls me dear
And your tears cannot bind me anymore,
And farewell to the girl with the sun in her eyes
Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone.

And every time that I tried to tell you that we'd lost the magic we had at the start,
I would weep my heart when I looked in your eyes
And I searched once again for the spark.

So goodbye, so long, the road calls me dear
And your tears cannot bind me anymore,
And farewell to the girl with the sun in her eyes
Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone.

Oh you know that there's something calling me dear
and by morning, I'm sure to be gone
For I'm older than you and you know so well
That our time for to love was a song.

So goodbye, so long, the road calls me dear
And your tears cannot bind me anymore,
And farewell to the girl with the sun in her eyes
Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone.

Now I can see by your eyes, it's time now to go
So I'll leave you crying in the rain,
Though I held in my hand, the key to all joy
Honey my heart was not born to be tamed.

And goodbye, so long, the road calls me dear
And your tears cannot bind me anymore,
And farewell to the girl with the sun in her eyes
Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone.
Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone.

-Old Shoes, Tom Waits

A song sung from one part of myself to another

Thought

If you bring forth that which is within you,
what you bring forth will save you.
If you do not bring forth what is within you,
what you do not bring forth will destroy you.

-Gospel of St. Thomas

Hello Joseph, My New Friend. We've Come to Walk Your Streets Again

Dave and I and the pups visited Wallowa County in the Northeast corner of Oregon. This county consists of four towns (Wallowa, Lostine, Enterprise and Joseph) and four smaller communities (Wallowa Lake, Flora (ghost town), Troy and Imnaha). It's surrounded by rugged mountains (often called the Switzerland of America), has deep deep canyons, plateaus, rolling hills, 53 lakes and 3,100 streams that total a length of over 5,600 miles. All in a county without a stop light (not even the blinking kind).

There are 1,800 folks who live in Enterprise and 1,000 who live in Joseph. Joseph is at 4,191 feet elevation (close to Ski Bowl at Hood) and Enterprise is at 2,020 feet.

All this is important because Dave and I are considering moving there. Dave interviewed with Fishtrap, a well-known and regarded literary organization in Enterprise. The position is for executive director, which means he would be reporting to the board of directors and running the show. He'd be connecting with established poets and authors around the country, running workshops, fellowships and Fishtrap college, not to mention the outstanding community events the non-profit puts on for the community.

This opportunity presented itself to us the week before my miscarriage. It was a romantic and sure thing at that point. We would have our baby in Portland, then run away to the mountains to raise our child. A dream come true.

Then the miscarriage happened, I lost the ability to focus on the future and the only thing I had to look forward to was this interview in Joseph. I became afraid to leave Portland, but was able to handle the idea if I told myself the move would be for Dave's career.

As Dave's interview grew closer I grew more accepting of moving there. By the time we crossed over into Wallowa county line, I was so stunned by the beauty that I couldn't imagine not moving there.

Two things needed to happen before believing I could actually move to a place as remote and isolated as Joseph; Where can I get my dank, organic eats and where can I apprentice with an awesome midwife.

On the first day I checked out the limited (but cute) natural food store and, most importantly, discovered that Azure Standard has a once a month food drop off in Joseph. And then I met the midwife...

There is too much to say about this gun-toting-Jesus-loving-no-seat-belt-wearing-psychic-renegade-midwife in this particular post. Let me just say that she is my dream midwife. She is community healer, homeopathic doctor, blood of chirst drinking, rural midwife that could change the direction of my life.

And the apprenticeship is mine if we move to Joseph. That easy. And if we don't move to Joseph I may just attend some births with her over the summer that she is doing two hours away from Portland.

The community of Joseph was outstanding. People were friendly and supportive. They care about the food they eat, the meat they slaughter, the veggies they grow and the books they read. At a potluck we went to (they're big in Joseph) most of the women had birthed their babies at home or knew someone who worked with a midwife. I was invited to interview lunches and gatherings with Dave and included in everything.

And when folks found out that I was a midwifery student, the reception was outstanding. One new mom was so excited about the idea of a midwife in Joseph (the closest one lives three hours away) that she screamed. I was told over and over that Joseph needs a midwife.

I also heard amazing things about the local hospital. Small town hospitals can be scary, but people had glowing reviews. The two doctors who catch babies there are not OB's, but family practice doctors, and they support homebirth transfers, natural childbirth and want every mom to have a doula because, "it makes our job easier."

So my two needs were met on our first full day in the town. Satchel and Maji loved the town as well. There is one city park, but everyone drives so slow there that I felt comfy with them off leash. And lots of people seemed to have dogs.

The restaurants were so-so, not too heavy on the meat and some offered gluten-free options. Terminal Gravity brewing is located in Enterprise and they had the best eats, not to mention the best beer (of course).

Overall, the town has a very feminine feel to it. It's not the western, cowboy town I was expecting. There are a lot of strong women who live out there and the feeling in Joseph is one of the feminine. It's the best way for me to describe it and I think it has to do with the fact that women pioneers would settle the town while the men worked in the hills. Chief Joseph is the Native American leader who the town is named after and I'd love to know more about him (other than from Wiki). I am sure his peaceful energy contributes to the feminine spirit of the town.

We show up differently depending on where we live and I like the way I showed up in Joseph. I suddenly became a map reader (for those of you who know me, you know I can't read maps) and someone who is interested in elemental direction. I was open and friendly (similar to the way I was in Australia) and felt completely safe.

So now what? Dave loves the possibility of working for Fishtrap and helping the organization grow. He would be honored to be with them. The organization is interviewing two other men for the position. They are looking for young, literary energy, and that's Dave. They only reason he wouldn't get the job would be because someone else has more experience leading an organization like Fishtrap.

Ratso

Maji and I have this unique relationship where if I ask her to kill something she does. It's quite surreal and I'm not sure what past life connection that has to do with, but sometimes it's scary.

This particular rat was out while I was gardening. I don't like rats and I don't like to garden without Maji on duty.

Since she's been honing her rat killing skills, she's also killing more squirrels. This isn't what I had in mind when I told her, one quiet evening, that I'd like her to start killing for me.

These skills did come in handy for a mercy kill the other weekend. We went hiking at Hood, Satchel got in on the action and caught a chipmunk in his jaws. I screamed and he dropped it, but it was still alive and suffering. Not sure what to do, we continued hiking. I asked Maji to please kill the chipmunk on the way back and she found it halfway up a tree, still hurt.

But I tend to freak out when I see this and yelled, so she dropped it again. The poor guy wasn't dead yet, so Dave drove a piece of wood through it's heart. This was a sad day which I made better by drinking 2 margarettas.

The next time Maji went after a squirrel I learned my lesson and didn't yell at her after she caught it in her mouth. I let her kill completely.

And this behavior has to change. So far I think it has. I've been talking to Maji about the difference between rats and squirrels and to only kill rats in our yard. Everything else can be chased up a tree. The little girl seems to be listening.

Gushi, Another Jarecki Spirit Bird

Ten minutes after I opened the window by our bed at 1:40 this morning, I heard a growl, a chicken scream and scampering.

Dave got outside first armed with a hose and chased what he thought was either a cat or a coon away. He saw Gushi laying on the ground. I grabbed a flashlight (mental note: buy a flashlight and keep by back door) and ran out there while Dave went back in the house to get dressed (mental picture: Dave hunting a wild animal with a garden hose in his boxers).

There was a raccoon, with Gushi in it's mouth, trying to scamper up our metal fence. It was having trouble carrying her with the light shining in it's face, me yelling for Dave and it feeling cornered. It made it up the fence and started walking towards me on top of the fence. Like a good dog owner I kept telling the raccoon to "Drop it". Finally it did drop her and jumped down the fence.

Loretta, the orange lady, was in shock and stuck between the food and the chicken coop wall. Princess Battlestar, from our original flock, was laying face down, wings spread inside the box. She's the small lady who has now survived a coon and a bird of prey attack. The bird of prey took her brother Fezmo last summer. Ladyfinger, was broody (again) in the nesting box and pretty much comatose from wanting to be a mother, so she wasn't too aware of anything. (Ladyfinger's full name is Fatty McGee and I've accepted the fact that she is my domestic spirit animal).

Dave stood guard over Gushi's body with a light and a shovel as the raccoon tried to grab her through the fence (can you believe that!?). Loretta came somewhat out of her stupor and ran into the yard, where I was able to pick her up and put her with the others. Loretta piled on top of Ladyfinger and I stroked Princess B into reality as she calmed down.

It was my turn to watch over Gushi's body as Dave tried to secure the coop. Dave closed the inside box door that we use to keep the ladies warm in the winter. We reckon the coon got in through either a very small space where the chicken wire wasn't stapled or through the bottom of the coop door that doesn't have a bottom bolt (the coop door was still locked). Either space seems too small for a huge raccoon to get through and then to carry a six pound chicken through, but that's from our limited human perspective.

Once the ladies were safe we decided to give Gushi back to the cycle of life. We carried her outside the run, said a prayer, and then offered her up to the raccoon. We made an appeal to the raccoon to please not hurt any more of our ladies and hoped she had pups to feed with our chicken. Two hours later we heard a growl out the window and Gushi was gone.

Only days ago we learned of Gushi's full name, Kristi Yamaguchi. She was our best egg layer and fattest bird (she has grown since this picture was taken). We feel good knowing that she spent her last days sunning herself on our deck, which leads us to believe she will come back as a dog. Perhaps as a semi-neurotic Dalmatian.

Things are Looking Up for the Jareckis

Great weekend. Truly a blessing.

On Thursday I had pelvic floor work done, a therapy I respond really well to, to see if we could get blood flow going in my pelvic bowl and loosen up any ligaments and muscles that might be holding movement back. Things started aching and cramping a few hours later, I had bright red blood and I even had low back pain. I felt this might be it. I called Midwife Kelly to review what to do if I hemorrhage, I got my meds ready (herbs, needles, filter needles, meds) and lit some candles.

Aside: Dave and I waiting for my miscarriage to complete is akin to waiting for labor to start. I feel cramps, get excited, try not to focus on them too much, tell Dave, we prepare for the event, only or it to be a false alarm.

All women carry emotions in their pelvic region and pelvic floor work can bring up some unknown or buried ones. And that's what it did to me on Thursday night. All my lifelong abandonment issues surfaced, Dave and I got in a fight about it and my uterus stopped cramping.

Mammals won't give birth if they don't feel safe. We can stop or slow down our labor until everything feels in order and miscarriage isn't any different. Our fight shut down my uterus.

I spent the next day at a midwifery conference that was a wonderful distraction from my anger at Dave. Twentyish of us midwives talked about midwifery conditions around the world and in Portland. I ate good soup, sat in the grass and felt no uterine activity.

The argument with Dave was a good thing. I know it's hard dealing with me right now. I'm asking a lot of him and I need a lot. I'm also in my own world that rarely involves anyone else, including him. It's really all about me right now and I don't see that changing until my miscarriage is over. This is part of my process, and I'll try to be more aware of life around me and Dave will speak his thoughts more and ask the questions he was keeping inside.

Friday movie night took us into a beautiful Saturday where the pups and I met a friend for a walk and then she let me practice my midwifery skills on her 26 week pregnant belly (I still can't find a heartbeat with a fetascope).

Dave and I spent several hours at Alberta Art Hop, walking around, meeting with friends, drinking beer and eating sushi. This is where Dave coined our new motto for the next two weeks: things are looking up for the Jareckis. The day ran into night, we spent lovely time with each other (missed a first birthday party of a sweet girl named Ceci) and said good-bye to a lovely day.

Our normal Sunday routine is to bike, without helmets, which is like a special treat, to the farmer's market, buy meat, veggies and gluten-free cookies, then head home. Today we detoured to pick up some tea and a random bookend, then ran into dear friends at a park.

NE Portland was celebrating all it's parks, so there was music and food at every park and roads were closed to cars throughout the area so people can bike safely. The bike parking was a lot like Amsterdam, but probably more confusing since most people weren't tripping out here in Portland.

We headed home, ate our bacon and egg sandwiches and then checked out our neighborhood park and to look in on the new brew pub that opened down the street from us. (House value increase).

Ohhhhh, the best part. The very very best part is that spur of the moment I was inspired to totally redo my office. Part of my grieving process has been to not really like being at home, but being unable to really leave all that much and enjoy myself. A few weeks ago I spent seven hours redoing the kitchen - just cleaning and nurturing the plants - and that was amazing, but I haven't been inspired to do that again. Until this weekend.

My office totally rocks the house now and it's all with the help of a lambskin rug and a plant I got at the yard sales along the way to the park. It really pulls everything together.

So my hope with all this is that maybe I'll be able to start studying again. I wasn't able to read or study while I was pregnant because I was too sick and I haven't been able to pay much attention to anything except miscarriage books lately, which is technically studying. But my new office should inspire the proper motivation.

But not until after vacation. Yes, we're heading to Joseph, Oregon, the most eastern part of the state on Thursday. We rented a rustic cabin, with a super awesome bathroom with a claw foot tub. It's a bathroom I could miscarry in and not mind.

And why am I thinking this might happen this week? Well, Dave and I both think I ovulated during the first week of May. He could tell just buy looking at me when that happens (and he's always right) and I had a feeling it was happening. And that means I'd be getting my period this week and my regular cramps should follow. I have had uterine activity today, similar to Thursday and I'm going in for two more pelvic floor work treatments before we leave. All signs pointing to completion.

So, things are looking up for the Jareckis.

Fiddleheads, the New Asparagus

Have you tried these buggers? Fiddleheads are baby ferns that can be harvested in the woods. These baby ferns require a very fast parboiling and then a saute before eating and man are they good.

I checked out their vitamin count online and they have 67% of your vitamin A needs and 37% vitamin c, not to mention 4 grams of protein.

Pretty sexy beasts these fiddleheads.

Men of Midwives

Dave gave me this poem for Mother's Day yesterday that he wrote.

MEN OF MIDWIVES

There on the floor, a rumpled sheet of skin,

what can I do? Pick you up, make it go away?

Feed you words about pain?

You were not born of this disease of blood.

You did not inherit it, do not own it. It found you

one day behind the shed, behind

the bottling plant back of your house

where trains ducked in and turned around.

You were roller skating in pink shorts,

T-shirt, yellow hair twisted in a tail.

Your mother cried when you told her

because you were too young and the world

only grew harder.

She knew that pain but not your pain.

What is your pain like?

You tried to tell me once, said it was like sound

bending around light, but not quite, because sound

bent round light sounds almost good.

It’s like a scream twisted in fire, a steel rod

dipped in that scream and pierced through your side.

Your body hangs on a spit. You turn in the flame,

cook a faithless red.

What am I do to for you, midwife? I’m to sit

on the floor, bring you water, a damp cloth,

bitter root to chew.

I’m to hold the space of your gaze, the mirror

of your face. Crouch like a cat

as you breathe through the pain.

The Jareckiville Observer - A Sometimes Reader

I switched domains because right now my mother is unable to handle the little bit of insight into my life I have given her. This has been the case my entire life. Friends on here only. For now. And maybe that will change and maybe not.

I've been learning a lot about myself in these weeks of waiting. A lot about myself and my midwifery practice and my uterus. A lot of unexpected growing. It's almost always hard to grow like this and here I am again.

All is well in terms of completing my miscarriage. I no longer feel like I'm waiting for it to complete. It's more of a waiting for a natural cycle of life to come and go. These are feeling good.

Today

Today I feel good. The homeopathy I took over the weekend (secale and silicea) have really brought me back into my body - a good place to be to start some movement. My uterus is feeling achy in a build-up to cramps sort of way and I feel positively inspired from some books I've been reading.

Of course it is still hard, but I wonder what bends in our road will show us why this has all happened.