I have to say, now that I'm back at work, Fridays are a pretty good thing.
Hope you're enjoying yours, too!
Happy Friday!
A formative experience.
Being invited into somebody's birth journey is an enormous declaration of trust and a huge privilege. Although I had thought a lot about this beforehand, I was still blown away by that feeling during the night of the birth. It was completely magical to be in a room with two people doing such an amazing job, waiting for the presence of someone little and new, listening to the steady breath of the mother, seeing the love in the eyes of the father - basically being allowed into the most private of spheres. The whole experience was not made any lighter or less magical by the fact that these two people are some of my dearest friends, that we have known each other for twenty years and been through a lot together. Letting your friend be there when you give birth, is crossing a border within, and when you even ok that she can take pictures of you while you're doing it - well, that is just plain braveness. And that's what I was so touched by in those quiet hours; that trust. It still makes me teary-eyed when I think about it.
Then there was the experience of seeing my friend being in labour. I have birthed three children, and I remember vividly the feeling of it, the phases I went through, the work. Witnessing my friend going through those same phases, listening to the changes in her breath, almost feeling what she felt, knowing so well where she was; that transformation she went through right before my eyes was so fascinating, it was such a revelation to me. She became every woman. She became me when I gave birth, or I was her, or we were simply a part of the same organism, the birthing woman. I know it sounds absurd and abstract and maybe I'm just rambling on here, but there was certainly a strong feeling of shared womanhood from my part, I can say that. And recognition.
I think I could go on about this forever. It was one of the most amazing things I have ever experienced. I am so intensely happy that I did it, that I have chosen this path for myself, that my friends invited me in, that the photos turned out well.
I am blessed, and grateful, and one happy birth photographer. Can't wait for the next one!
I have published a series of photos from the birth now. Hop on over to www.birth.no and have a look if you want! (Click on where it says "Mathildes reise" to see it, sorry but it's in Norwegian.)
I also have a Facebook-page where you can follow me, www.facebook.com/fodselsfoto.
Hello, March.
You are most welcome.
Today:
Euphoria.
Last night I had one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I photographed my first birth.
I will write more about this later, because I am too tired and emotional and euphoric right now to make any sense. I can say this though: I think I've chosen the most fantastic thing to do in the whole wide world.
Love.
A sneaking suspicion.
Both of our cows are in calf (pregnant), but with a few months between them, and it is with great excitement that we await the first one. We had Daisy inseminated twice with two months apart, because it didn't seem like she held it the first time, but now Mr. Payne has increasing suspicions that she actually did. Meaning that we probably will have a calf here at Zoo Payne a couple of months earlier than we thought: in the beginnings of March! Wee!
Fortunately, we have practiced our dairy skills for a while, so we won't be completely taken aback by the sudden increase of milk in the house. Mr. Payne is becoming quite the expert yoghurt/butter/cheese/sour cream-maker. Lucky us!
Below: Not our cows, these girls live on our friends farm.
Happy Friday!
Oh yes. Not only is it Friday, it is also the beginning of one week winter break from school! I shall relish in sleep, my people, and the great outdoors. Happy happy joy joy!
Work vs. life.
I often grab myself feeling sorry for her. She doesn't know all the work in store for her, but I do. I remember hours of meaningless assignments, writing almost straight off the books, doing what I had to do, but actually learning very little. I did well in school - meaning I have good grades - but I only taught myself the important stuff right before tests, and usually forgot about most of it afterwards. Now I only remember what I learned about the things I really loved. I think I would have loved more of it all, hadn't it been for all those hours on those chairs, doing assignments I didn't see the point of, listening to teachers who did their best but also suffered under a dry and non-creative environment, bound to the schedules laid upon them from above. I have asked her if she would have wanted homeschooling if she could choose, she says in a way she would, but she wouldn't want to be away from her friends. And she's a bright girl, she's responsible, so most likely (and hopefully) she is one of those that will come out on the other end okay, with good grades, good friends, and not too traumatized by it all. But I know - because I remember this, too - that something will have been lost on the way. That natural curiosity, you know? The restlessness and energy that makes you want to find something out right now, the enthusiasm that makes kids ask "why?" a hundred times. Learning how to hold your horses isn't always such a good thing. This video explains more, and is definitely a must-see.
And yes, we are seriously considering homeschooling. It is quite a rare thing in Norway, I think about 400 kids are homeschooled here, but it is possible, and we have the way of life here on the farm to support it. This video made my belief even stronger, you should watch that too.
The possibilities are endless. All we have to do, is to understand that we can go our own ways, we don't have to follow the crowd, we can make our own choices. Freedom, again.
Do you have any thoughts on or experiences from homeschooling? I'd love to hear them.
On freedom, self employment and birth photography.
As you may have noticed, I have a link up here on the Zoo Payne page that says "Birth photography", and you may have wondered what that's all about. I'll tell you about it now.
The year that passed, a year at home with my lovelies, a year off my regular job (teaching film & photography), was fundamentally life-changing. It was what I'd call a formative year. Something changed, and my view on life will never be the same. You might think I'm talking about the fact that I had Falk that year, that his entrance into our lives changed everything. Of course it did! But that's not what I'm talking about right now.
In short, I went from being an employee and really really happy with that, loving the sense of security it brings, liking the predictability - to wanting to break out, be free and independent and self employed. And that yearning is so strong, I feel I can never go back to the way it was. I can never turn my back on that.
I love my job, don't get me wrong. Of all the jobs in the world, if I have to have one, this is the one I want. (Except maybe for a midwife or a vet, haha!) It is creative, social, challenging, fun, crazy, stimulating - things I definitely want my work to contain. Problem is that I'm not the boss, I'm not the one setting the conditions, I have to follow a set of collective rules and do what the others do. (Geez, I sound so arrogant now, I know!) I went to art school as my education, and when I'd finished my Bachelors degree, I was pregnant with Ronja and felt scared to live the freelance artist life. I wanted security, so given the chance at this job, I took it. I decided to wait with freedom until I had grown up kids and I would be the only one suffering the consequences of a potentially failed freelance career. Also, it scared me. The thought of living month by month, not knowing if or when money would come in, or how much money I'd make, intimidated and stressed me, and the risk seemed to great to be worth it. And up until this past year, I was still settled at that.
Then, I found this woman. Georgia. She lives in Australia, and when I found her blog, something just clicked. That's what I want to do. Birth photography! She has made these amazing little films and such beautiful photos of the journey of birth, and it caught me with such force, it was crazy. I told Mr. Payne, and I think my conviction was so strong and so visible, he instantly agreed, and that was it. It was decided. The process had begun.
So where am I now? Well, firstly, I'm back at work, and it's good. When I'm there, my heart is in it, I still love it, the students and my colleagues are lovely, the days fly by. But in the back of my mind, and in my heart, there's this calling, and I'm still on that road, coming closer to my dream all the time.
I have searched for pregnant women to photograph in birth for free, so that I could be in the situation with as little pressure as possible (I didn't' say without pressure!), and I have found many. Some far away, and sadly impossible to go and photograph now that I'm still at work, but some in my district. As of now, I have four births waiting, and the first one is coming up very soon.
I don't think words can express how privileged I feel that these women want me there in the most intimate of situations. I am so thrilled, so happy, and so touched by it all. The best pictures from these births will (with the consent of the people photographed, of course) be published on my website (not here! on www.birth.no) and some on my Facebookpage www.facebook.com/fodselsfoto (welcome in to click "like" and follow me there!), so that those of you who have no idea what this is about, can see what sort of pictures I'll be taking.
I think there is a market for this. I think I can do it. And equally important, my husband thinks I can do it. These things, combined with my infatuation with the mystery of birth, gave me the courage to go for it. And yes, I still get scared of the insecurity of it sometimes, but not enough to make me go back. I'm on that road to freedom, and I'm not turning around.
(If you want to know more, I am happy to answer your questions! Either comment here on this post, or e-mail me through the comment form on the page called "The Paynes" on the top of this page, or contact me through Facebook.)
Lately:
We are in the middle of the hardest month of the year for me: on the brink of spring, but not quite there yet. Even though we've been blessed with a mild and not too snowy winter, I'm quite pleased thankyouverymuch, and could use some sun to warm up my pale face. Especially now that I'm back at work and don't get to spend as much time outside in daylight like I'm used to. All this, and that little guy who doesn't let me sleep at night, sums it all up: I'm knackered. (Yes, this is a whiny post.) The lack of sleep drives me nuts at the moment. He's usually a good sleeper, but something's up: He's uncomfortable, has a temperature, his gums are swollen. Time to visit the doctor tomorrow to make sure that mean ear infection he had before christmas isn't back.
On the brighter side, the girls are great. My strong, funny, crazy girls.
I had a moment the other day: As I was standing in the kitchen, probably in the midst of doing something, tidying or the like, I stopped to answer a question Ronja had. I looked at them, those three sitting around the table, and I was overwhelmed with a wave of pride and awe. That little gang of beauties are my children! When did that happen?
Just then, I felt so rich.
Weird, isn't it, that although you know something, I mean you are cognitively aware of the fact that you are privileged and lucky, only sometimes does that feeling really sink in. But when it does, it blows me away.
I think I'll just leave it at that, for now, and go to bed. It is, after all, almost eight o'clock.
:)
Poor Bubba.
Poor old Billie. Every now and then, a couple of times a year, when she has been in season, she become delusional. She is convinced she has puppies. Which, of course, she doesn't. And therein lies the problem: If you think you have kids but you don't, you end up spending a considerable amount of time looking for them. And when you can't find them, you end up being really miserable. Such is life for our sweet Bubba these days. We do what we can to console her, the cats even offer as substitute puppies, but to no avail. The dog is depressed, and will stay like that until she forgets about the pretend pups and life continues as normal. 'Till next time.
Freja.
A small step for mankind...
…but a big step for a little boy!
Yep, today was the day. He took his first proper steps, without any support. And yessss, I was there! (Have been worried that it would happen while I'd be at work.) A big event indeed. Wow, soon we shall have a little person wandering around the house. Haha!
Moments at bedtime.
More fluff.
It does not seem to ever stop snowing, and I can see my husbands biceps growing by the hour because of all the snow he keeps shoveling. He skips out every morning and spends two hours clearing the way for us, the animals, the hay, everything. Meanwhile, I'm inside with the kids drinking coffee and keeping the fire lit. Important work too, you know!
The kids are loving this weather though, and Ronja especially, because finally she can ski again. The other morning when going to school, she put her skis on (cross country), and virtually flew down the hills. She's so good at it! I wouldn't have lasted a meter before I'd show off an elegant crash landing.
Freja generally prefers lying in a big pile of the snow, munching away on it (not caring one bit about the typical parental warnings about getting worms in your tummy and such), and Falk loves sleeping outside in his pram, in this cotton-like world.
It's quite nice, in its own idiosyncratic way, this winter of ours.
You are loved.
(Ps. Thank you for all the sweet birthday wishes for Falk here, on Facebook and on Instagram! So heartwarming. Love!)
A year full of love.
That's what it has been. I don't care if it sounds cheesy or soppy, I don't care if it sounds sentimental. The past year has been filled with more love than I have ever experienced in my life. I have been the mother of three children this year.
I remember preparing for "the worst": that I would be crazy busy, running around like an idiot, barely having time to brush my teeth, feeling pulled at from every angle. And although yes, I definitely feel like that occasionally, it has been so much smoother and easier than I thought. It has just been really great, and my heart is bursting with the feeling of privilege.
Falk. My little man. Your light shines with such warmth, such sweetness, I go fuzzy on the inside just thinking about you. When you were a little newborn, and even before that, when you were in my belly, I always felt that you were calm, relaxed, mild. Those first months proved me right: you were so sweet, and I never felt frustrated or out of my wits. You were close to me all the time, and that kept you safe, relaxed, and veeery sleepy. As you got bigger, you started to show more of that feisty side, and you most certainly have both: chilled out and trusting, crazy and loud. All in one chubby, wonderful, squishy little person.
Before I had you, I often thought about how cool it would be to have a son, especially when I'd be an old woman and he'd be a grown up man. I could point to him, that man, and say: That's my son. And it would make me feel proud just dreaming about it, having a grown up man as my son. Now that you are here, and you are my son, the dream is still there, but it is filled with so much more: all the years leading up to that, all the days with you, watching you grow, getting to know you more and more, being your mother through it all.
We have been through our first year together, and it is with that sad nostalgia in my heart I wave goodbye to it, and take your hand to lead you into the next one. I am sad and very very happy, at the same time. Just let me always smell your hair and snuggle you, and I'll be ok.
Happy birthday, our beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.
This weekend.
For the first time in a while I've had a whole weekend off, and it has been wonderful. I've barely got out of my pj's, only to put on a lot of clothes to go out and play in the ENORMOUS amounts of snow we have now. Yesterday, I decided to dig a track in the snow in our field, so we can use it for sledging, and halfway up I felt hot and bothered and laid down in the snow, flat on my back. I closed my eyes, felt the snowflakes land and melt on my face. It was so quiet, so I drifted off, into a half-sleep sort of meditative state, I don't know how long I was there. The world was white and padded and soft. Wonderful.
Speaking of white: we have started getting fresh milk from a farmer friend of ours, and this weekend he lent us a separator to make cream and skimmed milk (which can then be made into sour cream, butter, cheeses etc). So fascinating! So Mr. Payne made luvely butter and we are making yoghurt and cottage cheese too. Daisy, one of our cows, will have her calf in early May, so we better learn these things and get ready for a whole lot of milk to come!
The next big step into self-sufficiency is coming up, and it feels great.
Hey, you found us!
Now, let's get to work.
Love at first sight.
It happened yesterday: The kids and I were playing in their room. Us girls were playing with the farm, and Falk was behind me crawling around checking things out. Suddenly it became quiet back there.
I looked around, and there he was, with the little wolf in his arms. Looking at it, smiling at it, kissing it, snuggling it.
It has rarely left his side since. It must be love.
