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| 6"x6" oil pastel, acrylic, water soluble graphite on Yupo Price $50 |
Forty years ago, I lived in Summertown, TN, in a community of hippies called The Farm. That day, Sept. 4, 1977, in my converted school bus, I gave birth to my only daughter who weighed over 10 pounds (the scale the midwives brought only went up to 10 pounds). She was so perfect. The first thing I said was, "She looks like my mom." The second thing I said was, "She looks like peaches and cream." Even though I was a hippie, I knew I couldn't name her Peaches, so I named her Ruthann. Her brother, Adam, was interested, but not thrilled. I can't blame him, as he was a month shy of turning 2. He was still a baby and the apple of my eye. I thought my nest was full, but then a year and a half later, Harry dropped unexpectedly into our lives, compliments of the Catholic Women's Shelter. Now they are all adults and I am so proud of them for growing into quality human beings. I have spoken to each of them today and I am so grateful we are close and even friends. In the last 9 years, I have attended 5 more births, those of my grandchildren. I know home birth is not for everyone, but it is for our family and I am so happy I could be part of that tradition. My totally normal daughter is on her way to the southern coast of Oregon to celebrate her birthday by spending a week in a Yurt with her husband and 3 kids. The apple does not fall far from the tree....Go Figure!
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