Posts Tagged ‘authenticity’

I’ve got my philosophy.

November 2, 2010

I am an oversharer. You think I overshare on this blog? You ain’t met me in person. I’ve got gestures, facial expressions, miming.

Nothing makes me happier than sharing a good story and making people laugh. Except being genuine about who I am, which often requires a good level of honesty about my life. I don’t mind. I like it.

So today I’m in line for playgroup with a friend and her baby. We’re talking about wanting more babies, and I am telling her about how I’ve been in contact with the clinic about eggsharing (I almost said ‘oversharing,’ how funny.), about donor sperm, etc. I’m not talking at the top of my lungs or anything, but I’m certainly not talking in hushed whispers about fertility treatment.

Surely this stuff needs to be normalized.


We go in, we play, etc etc. I broke out the slings and had Coco in a shorty rebozo carry (and I tied that slipknot like a professional, somehow) and this lady comes up to me. Of course I’m weeing in excitement because I think she’s going to ask me about babywearing.


‘I overheard you talking about eggsharing and things…and I wanted to ask you a few questions. Unless this is too personal? I know this is a personal subject.’

I laughed, sat down, and patted the seat next to me.  ‘Nothing is too personal, ask away. I’m happy to answer any questions you have.’

Turns out she’s from a particular country in Africa with good healthcare, and she’s a bit fucking shocked at fertility treatments here in Country B. I told her we went to a ritzy titzy clinic because of The Gay, and we had a big ol’ chat. I found out she’d lost twins at 20 weeks (horrible), and her adorable son was the product of insemination.

I told her about how great our clinic was, about our treatment, etc. We went on to breastfeeding, ivf, being an ‘older mother’ and the fertility pressures associated with wanting children as you age. She asked for my number before I left.

See, this is why I live outloud.

You never know who you can connect with, who you may help, just by being unafraid to be authentically you.



I got sweaty!

January 28, 2010

Um, hello today! Hello! Hi. How ya doin’?

I went for my first ever ever walk outside while tandem wearing the babies today. Coconut was semi-securely (ha!) in my new-to-me purple wrap on the front, while Snort was having a very good look around at the world from my new-to-me Connecta on my back! Aussie was here, so she popped on his hat once he was on me – and then popped on her baby in the Close carrier we have on loan.

No, this isn’t just a list of the carriers we used today.

It’s pointing out that: 1) I left the house during the day, 2) I left the house while babywearing today, 3) I walked today.

We didn’t go far. Just to the end of our little street, turn right, walk a bit, come back. Then down the side of our house on the path through the green green space, back into the house. Voile. Hey presto. Maybe about ten minutes, realistically speaking.

But I did it.

I did. Me. The one who’s been in a wheelchair for months? The one who can be in so much pain from SPD that it hurts me to change diapers? Yeah, me. ME. The past few days I have noticed a dramatic reduction in my SPD pain. So much so that I have been focused on my aching back muscles (if you think wearing babies doesn’t work your muscles, oh, my friend, think again!) and not really noticing any major SPD pain. My right hip is still tricky, and my back pelvic joint is still a little bitchy, but on the whole I think I have made some major healing steps.

Oh, and my other dream came true. As we were walking down the street, my crazy ass train friend John ran out of his house after us to say hello. He’s gotten a divorce, and I asked him if I was the reason he had done so. Obviously, he said yes.

He also thought Walnut was Snort, and Aussie was just a pal helping me walk my babies. Yes, because I have one white baby and one brown baby. While that is possible, I suppose, is it likely? That being said, I want to take a minute to sing the praises of my favourite non-child baby. He is lush. (And not just because he clearly adores my all singing, all dancing auntie ass.)

As is his mother. Having a friend like Aussie is priceless. I say, let me tell you all my crazy thoughts. She nods and tells me her crazy thoughts, which fit beside mine like pieces of a puzzle. She says, let me tell you how fucking weird I am with my partner, I nod and say, yes, I did that to TMD last week. Utter and complete honesty on both sides brings me laughter and relief.

So does this little ten minute walk. The only downside is that I didn’t have my camera to make John take a picture of Aussie, me, and the three bablets – or to make Aussie take a picture of me with John. Ha!