THE LAST FIRST WORD

The end is the beginning of all things, Suppressed and hidden, Awaiting to be released through the rhythm Of pain and pleasure. - Jiddu Krishnamurti

"Dada".  The last first word.  Could it be?  Can a word spoken so gently carry so much weight?  This simple and oh so sweet name, whispered by the bubba, set forth a thunderous realization:  I will never serve as the vessel for a babe again.  

Our hearts house the unconditional love for five babes.  It is amazing and, undoubtedly, if we were surprised with more babes, our love for them would reside comfortably and hand in hand with that of their siblings.  But it is definitive.  I have all my babes.  

The physical pain of pregnancy is too much for me and is something which I am no longer willing to bear.  A decade has been spent growing, nurturing, loving babes.  There is a lifetime left of learning and love.  I am forever dedicated to these amazing little spirits.  But in the mess of motherhood, mama had become my only role and the role of me had begun to fade.  

But I am okay.  The mama hood that I bear, I wear as a red cloak of strength.  It is made of a powerful love that shrouds me from all that I fear on this journey:  the growing up of the babes;  their straddling of innocence & dependence; their eventual flight from the nest; guiding as they wander.

As mamas, our literal function of housing life ends.  But we become THE VESSEL.  Our very beings are the terrariums of light, love, safety, nurturance.  It is in this unbreakable garden where little babes keep all their desires, needs, wants, fears, love.  You become the everything...I too am a babe's everything.