Tuesday, November 07, 2006

My Hazel

I can think again. It was like my body took it all to make this little girl. Most noticeable were the physical manifestations of this invasion, but my brain activity seemed numbed as well. Now that she's here, I can think again.

I titled this post "My Hazel" because, like a good friend wrote in a recent post, blogs are by nature self-indulgent and this is my place to be that, for, especially lately, there is little room for self-indulgence in my world.

Sigh...make that a super-sized "sigh" with a side of fries. This morning my parents packed up their helping bodies and drove back home. This morning I was leaning over the counter soaking my boulder breasts in two bowls of warm water getting ready to nurse the baby...this baby, who has no idea how many tears and smiles have been shed on her behalf in the five days she has spent living. This morning Craig and Seth left--one to preschool, one to work. This morning was the first time I was left alone with my thoughts (since Lucy has yet to become the stunning conversationalist we anticipate). This morning it's just the girls--a weepy trio at that. But right now it's quiet and I found a poem off the bookshelf that puts into verse the indescribable richness and complexity that Hazel ushered in on her pink coattails.

Love set you going like a fat gold watch
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.

Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.

I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand.

All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.

One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square

Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.

---Sylvia Plath

"Cow-heavy" I feel. Hazel is mine--I savor even those otherworldy, fatigued-laced, midnight moments, with her safe in my arms: my Hazel.


Jenny said...

Congratulations Miss Jordan...she is so beautiful. And I am so happy you were able to use the name you have been wanting!!

I will have to email you and get your 411 so I can hold her in a few weeks!! Such a sweet baby, hang in there I know that three little ones can be tough at times let alone demanding. :)

Kristi Brooke said...

oh my Jordan Beautiful in so many ways.

amy w. said...

Sweet Jordan . . . you made me cry. You are in my thoughts these first raw and tender days of Hazel's life.

Tasha said...

Jordan, I am teary. I love the poem, I love Sylvia Plath. I love the name Hazel. I wish I were there. Its so magical and HARD in the same breath.
Love you Jordan!

ingrid said...

Welcome to the world of families of 5! Is Hazel a family name? It suits your new little bundle perfectly!

What a beautiful post and what a gorgeous Hazel! I got quite emotional reading your sweet feelings for motherhood and the tenderness of life's early moments for little Hazel. The days will soonget better and life will seem as if Hazel has always been an integral part of your family. You are in my thoughts, dear Jordan.

rebecca said...

I am currently sending more tears and smiles from Oregon.
You and the gals - all alone for the morning. May this mark the first of many such days... weepy today. Maybe content of even silly tomorrow. Such a story you are weaving.

One lucky, lucky baby.

Sara said...

She is BEAUTIFUL! What a blessing! I can surely relate to those first days being full of emotion! Hazel is lucky to have such a thoughtful and tender mother. Get some rest and enjoy that baby!

TX Girl said...

Congratulations. I concur- she is beautiful. I hope life settles down with your newest beauty. I'm so glad you picked Sylvia- she is sooo misunderstood

Dana said...

What a beautiful baby and post.


Jill said...

I'm weepy too and love the realness of this post. It's not too often that new mothers share the details of their "boulder breasts" and the weepiness of adjusting to the new angel in their home. Thanks for sharing that, and good luck sweet mother.

Elizabeth said...

What a beautiful post. She is darling.

Shawna B. said...

One lucky baby, indeed. Such a beautiful baby, such a beautiful post. Sweet Jordan, you are amazing. Love you - love your 'weepy trio" - love the whole Mangum clan. A family of five at last!

The poem is perfect. I also love Sylvia Plath's poem about pregnancy called Metaphors. She hit it right on when she described a pregnant woman as an elephant, a ponderous house, a melon strolling on two tendrils! Such good stuff.

Hugs to you all!

michelle said...

I'm so glad she's here. And I absolutely love her name. I've been thinking of you every day, wondering if you'd delivered yet.

I'm stunned that in your new baby haze you were able to put your fingers on that beautiful, perfect poem. So glad you can think again. I can't think at all for the first 3 weeks, such a sleepless stupor.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts -- so real, so raw, so tender. I hope the boulders soften soon!

Claudissima said...