When I Became a Mother

"I remember vividly the moment that I became a mother. Not in the physical sense, but in the spiritual sense. It wasn’t the moment of conception, or the day that I found out that I was pregnant. It wasn’t when I felt the first kick of my precious child’s little foot, nor was it when they lifted her and placed her in my arms, still wet and screaming after her exit from my womb. It was in a moment of blinding joy the evening after she was born." Reflections on motherhood: Deana's story
http://parenting.ivillage.com/tp/tcelebrations/0,,452j,00.html
iVillage Pregnancy & Parenting ©1995-2006 iVillage. All Rights Reserved.

Fact or Fiction? The Dangers of Ankle Massage During Pregnancy

By Leslie Stager RN, LMT
Published in Massage and Bodywork Magazine Sept 2009


Most massage students have heard the warning, “Don’t touch a pregnant women’s ankles,” yet few can articulate definitive reasons for this contraindication apart from a generic fear that it will trigger contractions. Considering the high percentage of miscarriages each year, perhaps there is good reason for caution, yet the warning

A poem by a massage student's mother about her son. She carries oils relevant to pregnancy. Her website is:
http://www.sanctuarynaturals.com/

CAPTIVE MOMENTS

L. Whitlow 4/2002

Should I be found worthy

to live again your childhood,

I would wake up earlier

to spend more daylight with you;

I could show you the magic of sunrise

and rock you to sleep by starlight

and moonrise;

I would stay up late into the darkness

just to watch you dream;

We would play more on the floor

and clean the house less;

We would carve pathways through the hours

on our knees

and invite more butterflies to afternoon tea.

Sundays we would play dress up together

and let the laundry go;

I would fill my great, wide bed with your battles

and surrenders,

and dust the cobwebs off your crib;

I would travel the universe of your enraptured gaze

as you lay undisturbed at my breast

until you slept,

went off to play,

or outgrew my lap.

If I could live again your childhood

I would hold every moment captive

inside the heavens of my heart;

I would breathe your essence,

and the memory of every smile

would course through my veins

and my dreams;

I would laugh more through your eyes

and worry less over your frowns;

I would abandon sleep and ambition

and be secretly glad you were playful at midnight.

And though we were all this and more,

my midnights now are far too peaceful.