Sava's first week

Dear loved ones,

It has been the happiest week of our lives-  being absorbed in the most intimate, inward sacred space as we learn this new little person. Sava is the most gorgeous and perfect being I have ever encountered and I am sleeplostly falling in love with her, as is her smitten papa, one of the most natural fathers I have ever witnessed.  One of my new favorite activities is listening to their hilarious dialogues during diaper changes. She performing her repertoire of grunts while he cheerfully comments on the various aspects of her personal hygiene.

One of the things we like best is that she came equipped with a panoply of sound effects, which range from quiet doe-like pantings  of deepsleep, to the scratchy grunts of her frequent flatulent/pooping episodes, to my personal favorite: this strange "kewpy" noise she makes while engrossed in her happiest of activities: breastfeeding. She maintains a fierce delight in the task and I sense the beginnings of a perfectly timed comedic wit in the way she repeatedly dive-bombs my breasts with this wild grin on her face, before finally settling down to business.  I know it is too early for her to be consciously grinning- but I swear she is. 

So this first week has been mesmerizing, overwhelming, and exhausting. We are adjusting to catching two hour snatches of sleep between her episodes of grunting hunger . We are adjusting to a quiet house as my parents have just left yesterday, leaving us stunned and alone. How are we ever to manage without them? For a week Sava and I have been the still, quiet center of a house swirling with activity: my mom gardening and cooking gourmet meals around the clock while Jamba and Dad find all sorts of things to fix around the house.  Kitchen drawers fixed, hall closets and garage reorganized, and a new bathroom sink to wash Sava in: our little house is getting into infant shape.  It has been wonderful having my parents around- four extra eager hands to hold her, and having us all bond as a new arrangement of family. My mom taking Sava on morning walks around town, letting us sleep in for a precious extra two hours each morning: my dad rocking her by the window.  They are the most besotted of grandparents, and we will miss them. 

On Laundry: 

On Friday our old washing machine committed suicide, having looked into the future and deciding that life would not be worth living with an infant around. (Note: having a homebirth takes a lot of towels).  Secretly, we are all glad, as our washer and dryer had been painted purple by the previous owner. She hadn't neglected the knobs and dials either in her enthusiasm for purple, so for an entire year Jamba had been doing our laundry by guesswork and estimation.  (I secretly wonder if my mom hadn't had something to do with the washer's demise, judging from the glee with which she started researching new machines that afternoon.) 

On Smell:

Jamba, upon taking Sava on the first of what promises to be many olfactory adventures around the garden, held a mint leaf up to Sava's nose. Her eyes popped open and she just stared, transfixed and unblinking, for a minute looking up at the sky.  

She did not care so much for lemon balm.

On Sight:

Her eyelashes are the longest things I have ever seen.  Her lips are like rosebuds. She has a light covering of soft black hair on her back, which makes her look like a little monkey when she is resting all scrunched up on our chests.  The person she most resembles in the house is not Jamba or I, but rather our statue of fat-cheeked Hotei, the laughing Buddha. There has been raised some question of parentage.

On Labour:

Our home birth was the most incredible experience of our lives. We had a beautiful textbook labour-  no complications-  with fires and candles lit, beautiful music, soft light, and the most pain I have ever experienced in my life. Thank god I was not in a hospital with access to drugs. Thank god I had Jamba beside me, helping me to ride the waves of the experience with such beautiful and loving  and fierce energy. It was a transformative experience and it taught me about inner strength and surrender and what I can accomplish, and god, what a relief and joy it was to finally push her out. I just really loved that moment. Jamba caught her and got to bond with her for the first moments, while I rested my head on Heidi's lap and caught my breath, processing the fact that it was all over and all begun. And then, so crazy, to turn around and to be handed this person: this whole entire person all squirmy and covered with vernix and real,  just starting to cry. 

That is all for now. Thank you all for your patience, in allowing us the silence and interiority of this week. We have been so blessed with your calls and messages and prayers of support and love, and look forward to reopening the lines of communication now that we are starting to get a feel for this new terrain. We love you!

Erin, Jamba, and Sava

pictures of Sava's first week!