Shiva's and Metta's Mother's Sutra

Hiya, that's me in a picture, finally. Amhairghin has taken to crying till he's blue - all over - two or three times a day. His crying has also changed. From the urgent cry of a wild animal to that of a creature who knows that help will come when he does that. At the age of 3 weeks, he's learning to ask for help. But in a very LOUD way. Why do they cry so long and so loudly for no apparent reason. I studied him today while he was doing this. Yes, he was upset, but perhaps there's a bit in him which goes, i'd like to see how loud i can get. Let's exercise the equipment, man. The month long confinement is coming to an end. I am glad that it's almost over, but i will miss the pampering. It has been a long month. I long for fresh air, meeting friends in cafes, catching up with people, just taking walks along the Lagan. And exercising again, although i don't know when i can start, especially if this breastfeeding regime is kept up. I plan to continue doing th...

Contracted the flu off Peter and spent the last four days languishing in bed, popping paracetemol, skullcap and pespiring away, only waking to feed the baby, myself and washing, After each sleep-filled feed, i would nod off and wake drenched, but feel a little better. The whole thing has now passed, and i'm feeling a lot better. I have also, unaccountably, developed a nut allergy. Ma made some opor ayam and packed it with macadamia nuts. I had two bits of chicken and then began to slowly break out in a rash. My lips, already quite swollen - beestung, i'd like to think - became even more beestungy - and then over the three days, my hands, lymph nodes and bits of skin over said nodes developed into veritable hives - to house the bees i assume. I now have a nut allergy. I don't know how long this will continue for, or has it replaced my shellfish allergy - or added to it. I don't quite like nuts anyway, so it's no biggy, to use an Americanism. Enough of this nonsense....

Amhairghin is almost three weeks old and i have discovered the zen of babying. No plans, no hours, no day, no night. No must do, need to do. No schedules. Just the moment matters and when i give up everything, then the thrill of motherhood blossoms. Night feeds. What are the best things about night feeds? The tug tug tug at the breast and heart. The thousand hot wet stars hurtling sharply through my breasts. The silent needing and need - of the both of us. The motion stillness of the house. His little ear, the axis around which the world turns. Clocks, time, quantities, data, all dissolve and i am there, alone with him. Making milk in not simply subconscious - it is unconscious. Reason giving over to the body. I wonder how am i going to cope with sending Oisin to school, breastfeeding and keeping the house - as well as renovating it. It will have to be done in pieces, extempore, improvised - not with a project plan, or schedules and deadlines, but by the moment. I am tired though. I al...

The latest news is that we have decided to finally extend the house. This is because it is somewhat small if we want to keep the office space. I estimate there must be at least 2,000 books in here. I have about 800 myself and Peter has at least twice that number. We have decided that we need to add on a conservatory and Peter has said that he'd like something like what Derrida has - or i should say had, because the man has passed on - which is a conservatory office. I'd much rather a conservatory bathroom myself, but one needs to be practical. This will be our project this year. The intention is that we'll get this done in September, after my sojourn in Singapore. I'm quite excited. I've never really undertaken this kind of work before, but it will make our lives more comfortable. And it'll also let people stay with us as well. Right now the sleeping arrangements are sort of makeshift, to say the least. My mom and dad have taken residence in Oisin's bedroom ...

Amhairghin is spending more time awake now. He refused to go down till lunchtime today. See what i mean by routine. Here's the latest photos of them. I spent the whole of the morning breast feeding, chaning diapers and cleaning the room. I also watched the Best of 80s Love Songs on the VHS channel and recalled the days i slow danced to Richard Marx's Right Here Waiting . Could it really have been 20 years ago - almost 20 years ago. Dancing in Chinoise, as we used to call it, the height of grown up coolness to 18 year olds in Singapore. God, what did we know. It all seems so silly and tacky now, like those 80s videos.

...is not the title of Quentin Tarantino's next film. It is a wonderful little oil which is made in Malaysia and used by confinement ladies over the generations to help a colicky baby. It actually works and is completely herbal. Ma finally pestered me into using it an he is a much calmer child. The bath may also have helped. Here is Ma with Amhairghin. She is thrilled because not only has her oil worked, but she is actually able to hold him without him yelling at the top of his voice. My dad has finiahsed hoovering the car. It must be pure hell to him to see the state it has gotten itself into. In a country where cars are prized higher than some of your younger children, it is unthinkable that i could have let it go to that state and seed. He has just come in to tell me that he has just washed the car and has removed years of kerak-kerak...as he left the room he said, "I never do that to my own car you know..." And here is Amhairghin, poster child for Ju Ik Yu. Silence is...

Kate Chopin I am going through my back catalogue of books, mostly novels i collected when i was in university. One of my favourites was Kate Chopin's The Awakening and i just thought that while it is inappropriate stuff to be reading just after having a baby, it was also one of those books which filled you with inspiration. Well i recall it filling me with inspiration when i was 19. The writing was flawless, even more than i ever imagined, but the sadness at the end. Her suicide, instead of speaking about a woman who couldn't compromise, it read this time of a woman who was trapped. That she couldn't live in between her freedoms and her society - and the cowardice of the men in her life - and so she had to kill herself. It just seems so extreme. And it is terribly annoying that some of my favourite characters in literature are turning out to be deeply flawed. Like Jay Gatsby. Instead of appearing a romantic figure, he seems incredibly stupid, pining after a spoilt, self-ce...

Amhairghin at 2 weeks It's been two weeks since his entry into the world. What have i done for two weeks then? It's mostly been sleeping and feeding - both myself and him. I have come down to a size 14. It's roughly the size i was when i was in Singapore, when i was three months pregnant. I know this because i have a pair of red trousers from blood brothers which i was able to wear in Singapore and then i couldn't wear it for much longer when i got back. It's bit depressing to think that i'm where i was when i was three months pregnant and i have about three dress sizes to lose. I was a size 8 before all this began. Sigh. The day starts like this. I wake up - am wakened by the baby at about 6.30 am for a feed. After that feed he tends to go back to sleep and then i wake the other boys at 7.30, who then go to their respective schools. I then have breakfast myself and go back to bed - since i was awake at three other points in the night for feeds as well - 12 am, ...

This is a picture of Sandra and Lisa - they were the ones who DID make it to the birth, although it all happened before they arrived, but they made the effort, which is what counts. I met both of them in the most interesting ways. Sandra, i met with a group of other women at a women's stand-up comedy night at the Duke of York three years ago now!!! I was there, alone, after one of my wanderings in Belfast on one weekend. It was a great weekend, i remember it well. I had gone to The Edge and had been having glasses of wine since four in the afternoon. I read that the Belfast Festival was having this stand up comedy and threaded my way to the Duke. There I took a table and then Sandra and crew walked in and asked me if they could join me. I said of course - and we have grown on and with each other since. After the show - where we were as much part of the performance as the performer - we went to the Art College. David Holmes was playing and we boogied the night away. It was mental. I...

First i must apologise for the lack of material. I shall try and get Lisa's and Sandra's pictures today when they come and visit. It's like this. I don't plan on leaving the house for a month. It's the month of confinement which we still adhere to in Singapore. I used to think it was barbaric, repressive and cruel. Why would any woman want to lie in bed all day with a squalling infant? That was until i gave birth and decided it was acutally quite civilised. I have heard stories of women who have driven their children to school the next day - their older children. They must come from good peasant stock. However, the downside of this is that i don't have lots of pictures apart from Anhairghin's face to stick on this blog. I am taking pictures everyday because i didn't do that for Oisin and regret that now. The evolution of a face is tremendously fascinating and i hope that i'm able to capture that more diligently with this baby My truth about breastfee...

Being a mom the second time round is definitely easier, and more enjoyable. The first time was really tough. Here i was thinking, look women have been doing this for millennia, since we came out of the water. What can be so tough? You feed it, clean it and make sure you put it to bed. Can't be hard. Boy was i wrong. I have never done anything so difficult in my life, particularly since, as i was growing up, even though i had more than 20 cousins all younger than me, i never really paid attention to what it takes to do stuff to a baby. So it was really a case of where's the instruction manual!!! when i had Oisin. And when you read the one's which were written they all disagreed with each other, or gave advise that didn't help. Anyways, it turns out the only way to know about child rearing is to do child rearing yourself. This time round, well, i don't get stressed out so easily and when the baby cries, and nothing's too wrong, i tend to just hold him and wait it ...

The house is full of flowers - and food. Downstairs, Oisin and Peter and trying out Oisin's new heelys - this shoe with wheels in them. I can hear them going whoa! Tomorrow's task will be putting the cot together. It's gotten off to a rather interesting start. We can't locate the screws. I was quite sure that i put them together with the other bits when i dismantled the thing a few years ago. It really doesn't matter because Oisin never used the cot. Maybe it'll be different this time. This is mission control, by the side of my bed. : Hmmm...baby's crying now, must go.

It was a tremendous success. From now on Peter will make Sunday dinner.

Day 4 in the Big and Small Brother's house. My mother has discovered that it was very foolish of her to pretend that after having given birth that it is alright to carry on as if she was a milkmaid in the fields. It would have been a far better idea to have left the heroics daddy and stayed in bed, all warm and snuggly with me, while he takes care of us, and Oisin and the guests and the house. (Also sitting up to watch Batman Begins was not a good idea, even if Christian Bale is a bit of a dish and that batsuit is something else.) Daddy has been set a task today to roast the chicken she defrosted last night. Mummy is not sure if he has never roasted a chicken before, but she has never done so either. She says that it isn't rocket science and the instructions are on the back of the label the bird came in. We shall see. I look forward to chicken latte for dinner today. If it looks great, there may be a picture of a cooked dead bird on the page tomorrow. I wonder what chicken lat...

Little Metta, sleeping after the morning feeds. I particularly like the two fingers to the world shot. I can't bear blogs that go on and on about how wonderful the child is, so you can take it as read that he's pretty wonderful - as all children are. And how very different this birth and after birth as been. Home birth definitely rocks, and visualisation has a very important part to play in ensuring a good birthing experience. At which point did birth become a mostly traumatic and terrifying occassion? During the seven hundred year persecution of women? What happened that allowed us to mistrust our bodies so much? And the wisdom of the child inside us. I have no doubt that this child guided me through his birth as well, telling what to do and how to do it. Without the distraction of staff, machines and needles, "experts" and pharmeceuticals, the midwives, myself and the baby helped each other. And even now, the breast feeding, sleeping, care, has come so naturally. W...

Amhairghin - pronounced A-ver-ghin - was born on 7th January, 2007, at 5.25 pm. After the last blog, i went down and made a roast leg of lamb, watched some tv with Oisin and then after lunch - about 3.15 pm i noticed the contractions beginning to get more regular. I took a bath, washed myself to prepare for his arrival and then called midwives and friends at about 4.20, thinking right, it does feel like i'm at the start of labour. Peter was on his way back from Port glenone. It was just myself, Oisin, the baby and Hidegard von Bingen. I began drumming and the contractions began to hurt. Oisin joined in, at the point when i could no longer do this, he looked up at me and said, "Mom, i've tried to make everything perfect." My heart nearly broke and i said to him, "Yes Oisin, i know, and everything is perfect." With support like that, how can the birth not have gone the way it did. Peter came home and it wasn't too long before the midwives arrived. I think...

It has been perfect, the timing, that is. Yesterday evening the three of us performed the supermarket waltz - a dance i have not done in many a moon. I reread Fast Food Nation yesterday and am even more disgusted at the industrialisation of food. However, before i made the decision of shopping at St George's market weekly, i had become very familiar with the Sainsbury's in Holywood exchange, and being thus, i knew exactly where i was going and what i needed. Peter however was most amusing to watch. He randomly goes down aisles and selects things that he sees. I detest shopping in places like these but it was the most convininent thing to do - given my state. We picked up enough food to last a nuclear winter, and i felt rather stupid at the end of it all. After all, everything we needed could be found on our doorstep. We weren't in some subtropical rainforest in the middle of Sumatra, and if we were i probably wouldn't have needed all the stuff which we did buy. It cons...

You threaded me back, tiny bead, through the dark, impossible labyrinth. When all hope was lost, you - smiled - and silently said, Do not give up, i am here. My pulse the sonic signal, drumming against the taut, extending belly of your skin. My heartbeat, life's tattoo, your invitation to dance. In the cold, hard womb of winter, as the light failed, your movements traced luminous paths of transcendent spheres. Love, all is love, you smiled (and) my heart split open, a ripened pomegranate, seeded by you, in bejewelled encrustations of a sweet reddening joy.

Today i asked Oisin what kisses were made of. Love and spit was the answer. Love though was thought to be the more important ingredient. Preparations for the birth continue a pace. I had dinner with Marie today. It was one of those conversations which ranged all over the place. From cooking beetroot to Lacan and the id. When we finally did touch on the birth preparations, it became clear that i needed to be a bit more informal and enjoy myself a bit more. And i will. I'm sort of putting money on the days between the 10 th and 12 th , although, i did think that the baby would be much earlier - as in around Christmas - but that might have been wishful thinking. Doing a home birth has been a fascinating experience. It is clear that it's still in its infancy as an activity here because when you tell most people that you are having one, you are treated as a pioneer or a headcase. Most of my friends, i'm pleased to say, have given me all the loving encouragement which a pion...

It's difficult to be honest about what takes place during a day. Not only because there are always several different points of view, but because even though you've had a really great conversation, like a writer, you can't really put it in your writing because then you'll be accused to making use for your friends for material. So i can't really say what happened today. Suffice it to say that i had several great conservations with a friend while on a walk and i do feel very blessed being surrounded by some very thoughtful and honest people. Anyway, what i CAN say is that we had a great day at Crawfordsburn Park, a beautiful mysterious place, filled with dralas and nature spirits. Here is Oisin , a recent picture of him. From today really. I probably walked about 3 miles, which was great, although right at the end i was getting quite tired. The baby is either due this Friday or next Friday on account of the NHS computers. I can't really believe this, but when i ...

Things almost back to normal, but for me not working...and i could get used to this! Made Oisin's usual pancakes this morning and Peter took off to work - his first day in the new job at Queens. It turns out that the university was closed, but i think he was glad to get back after two weeks of a 'holiday' in Donegal . Both father and son returned on New Year's Day at nine pm, just in time for Life of Brian , with the two fish who seem to be far better travellers than the cats ever were. We had bangers and mash for dinner while watching Life . The film was as hilarious as ever, although Oisin didn't get most of the jokes. However he did ask us what crucifixion was, a question which we both sidestepped elegantly by coughing and looking in other directions. It's a bit dishonest, but we couldn't tell a five year old that a significant number of people believed that this man was nailed to a cross and then left to die on their behalf because they had been sinfu...

New Year's Day. A storm swept through Ireland and the UK and upset most celebrations. I stayed home and lolled on the sofa and polished off the pate, then fell asleep at half past midnight. It was a tranquil new year. The news today...3,000th US soldier killed in Iraq and the Brits are having a hard time of it in Afghanistan. Tony Blair's smug face says it all. I am beyond reproof and reproach. When will they admit that the imperial project is a failed one? It didn't work in the 17th century and it won't work now. If people are treated with contempt and disdain, if we are patronised and belittled, then they will respond with apathy at best and violence at worst. Why do the Brits think it would work in a country thousands of miles away when it didn't work in Ireland or Scotland? It didn't work with women either. Or minority cultures. Sooner or later people wake up and say no more, we will not be subjugated and then you get the problem with a response of violence ...