I have been wanting to get this story out for awhile, and acutely since December 11th. But I suppose it is fitting that it is only now that I am finding the chance to get the words all out as it is just a few days before Maple’s 14th birthday and this story is in many ways hers. Or more accurately: mine of her. She is the muse here for sure. And as much as I love to share these stories, this one is in many ways for me, so that I do not forget as the memory transforms and degrades within it’s home inside my mind.
There are many stories that are magic, potent for us to keep. This is one of those stories. It both begins and ends on December 11th 2018, when my almost teenage daughter brought my attention to the irregularity in my menstrual cycle. We were in Madison, it was 5pm and deep dark out. I think that we were killing some time before her swim practice and after Eider’s violin practice. He had had a play-in that day so it ended early and Chris and I exchanged kids so that I could make it to a 26&2 while Maple was at the pool. The boys headed home but it wasn’t quite time to drop her off yet so we did what we usually did when we were bopping around Madison in between activities, we headed to Barriques. We made a pit stop on the way at Walgreens so that I could soothe some of my mom guilt at being so unprepared for the coming holiday and see if I could at least snag some gingerbread houses for the kids to make. I had just wrapped up the launch weekend of Practice Wellness Community with Sam and Rachel, followed shortly by my 41st birthday weekend- which as perhaps many mamas know is often more about my kids than myself, and my elfish self was a tad bit MIA.
Anyhow, we were just about to Walgreens when Maple mentioned that I hadn’t gotten my period. She knew of course because we had been synced up for the last year or so- and after years of tracking I had recently thrown in the towel and was willing myself to not pay attention to my monthly feeling of defeat. At any rate, she was right, I was late, so I grabbed a pregnancy test for the millionth time and swore at myself for the wasted $14. Once at Barriques and after placing our order I headed to the bathroom to pee on a stick cuz really, why wait? Just get it over with and take the pregnancy test at the cafe so that you can get over the hope that is just beginning to spark again and move on with your life again and already. And sure enough.
We grabbed our tea and headed back to the car to get Maple to swimming. She pressed a little before we got in the car but I put her off a bit until we were on the road and then handed her the stick. So in that way, Maple was the very first to know that I was finally, finally, pregnant again and we could tentatively begin to hope that this baby was finally on the way.
It was super fitting that Maple was the first to know. And there is a great deal of back story to that. Some of which I will get to in a moment here. But just in case this is all too long for you to read, suffice it to say that it was Maple that always made me know with such immense clarity that there was another coming. It wouldn’t necessarily be anything that she would do or say, but it would inhabit a certain look she would give me or a story that she would tell. I could feel the knowing dissipate when she and I were away from one another and then sure enough build again with our proximity. (It is important to say that that feeling was not quite the same but indeed quite similar to one I would feel with Chris- which makes sense as he is my co-creator. Even in the depths of our own interpersonal difficulties over the years the baby I so longed for was his, and if, hypothetically it was not with him, the desire would fade. And that is edging into a much longer tale for another day.)
There are all sorts of examples of this connection that I shared with Maple. It moved through quite a bit of time and space but I think may best be summed up in 2 very clear messages that I was delivered along the way. The first was the March after my miscarriage, when Maple was freshly 10 and we were out in Colorado visiting Chris and some friends. I was in a dark, dark place. Chris had been living out there since the end of November in hopes that we were all moving out there. But I wasn’t so sure cuz I just really couldn’t figure out what the hell life would look like for me out there. So I was dragging my feet and moping and at the same time, building my career with more gusto than I ever had before back in Madison. It is safe to say I was profoundly conflicted and really suffering it. So I did what I always do when I can’t get straight with myself- I got my cards read. (Now you could insert any metaphysical modality in here: Jyotish, Evolutionary Astrologer, Psychic. Many major life decisions have flowed forth from some moment of clarity gained per this sort of guidance, but also some real shit has been thrown in my face too using this approach. Because the practitioner is never perfect folks and it can be hard sometimes to navigate through their shit in order to get to yours. Again, probably another post for another day.)
This was my first experience with someone else reading the Tarot for me. I’d explored the cards plenty on my own but this was something else for sure. And on further reflection after the fact, this woman was doing a good bit more than simply reading my cards as my metaphysical friend Susanne Clores pointed out to me a few months later. And it’s true. The card reader in question, a mama friend of my longtime friend Sarah, was completely unassuming and incredible, you’d never really know from her dingy Southwestern rambler complete with a cross-stitched “Bless This Mess” sign hanging on the wall above the mountain of laundry that I had to quite literally step over to get into the bathroom, that she was indeed working with some much bigger energies than simply the cards.
There were quite a few insights that I gained from our hour together. I got clear on what was up for me and Chris. I could see how best to navigate the path ahead without compromising myself or loosing my man. But what was most striking was when she said that there was a third kid, a little boy, that she could see coming to us. But she couldn’t quite tell if it was my child or perhaps my grand and Maple’s son as he seemed to be so deeply entwined with her. There are some things that you hear sometimes and it can be quite a stretch to feel into it. And then there are others that land immediately because they are truth and well, pay attention to those things people. When you know, you know. As much as you may try to talk yourself out of it after the fact. Trust your gut, K? K. I heard her and I knew she was right. There was a little one somewhere out there coming for us. Both Maple and I.
The other big piece regarding Maple’s connection to this whole epic journey bears mentioning here as well. Those of you that know her, know that she is magic- sometimes more than others, but I think that we can agree that there is something a little other worldly special about her. And don’t get me wrong, she is a teenage girl navigating the complicated dynamics of that particular time of life inside of a culture that is complicated and flawed and not quite yet ready to grow up itself. But tell you what, sometimes this girl drops some wisdom that is so strong and so true that I have to do a double take to make sure that it is still Maple standing there. It’s like she is channeling something y’all. She can drop into deep awareness. And then just as easily pop out and go back to being irritated with me about her clothes or the fridge or something equally as inane. She’s got a connection though. And she knows it. I have another tale to tell that dovetails a bit off of this one that I may never get to regarding Maple and her psychic proclivities. But for now, suffice it to say that for a stretch of time she was using a pendulum to talk to spirits and oh boy did they want to talk to her. I have never seen a pendulum respond the way it has for that girl. So huge in fact that it -with reason!- freaked me out and I had to put the kibosh on it until we could figure out how to craft her a shield, energetic or otherwise. But not before she showed me the response that she would get when she asked if a baby was coming to her mother. Unreal. And so deeply affirmative that in hindsight it seems like such a sign whereas in the moment I could shake it off as just another piece of false hope because hello it was probably never going to happen. And what the hell spirits are so eager to communicate with my kid anyhow? Buzz off.
So she has always been a part of the story. A big one. She ushered me through the entirety of my pregnancy with her attentive and often over-protective care. In fact it was a little much at times the way that she would hover over me and boss me around, but now I’m just grateful for it and can see the way in which she had shaped herself into an energetic shield for both the baby and I. She was our guardian and protector. The superstitious keeper of the faith. And it wore her out. So much so that she has mostly disappeared since his birth. But she got us there for sure. And now she is on to something else with as much focus and gusto as she gave the multi-year project of getting her littlest brother to arrive.
As we enter the season of her 14th birthday I am still in awe of my first born. In so many ways she has been and continues to be one of my biggest teachers and an endless source of inspiration in my life. She reminds me every day that I can do big things. That it is possible to both occupy the magical while standing strongly in the center of reality. She was the very first to open my mind and my heart to the grace of the infinite and good grief she made me a mama which has become, by far, the greatest gift of my lifetime. HBD Maple Louise. I can’t believe you’re 14. Cuz I’m still only 28.