We arrived into Barkton place with very little insight into what 'real life' was.  

I acted rashly in my new freedom of choice.

He stayed secluded.

We both...struggled.

Struggled in our early twenties to find some sort of balance in a life we had no idea about.

And there was one desperate prayer we made.  One desperate plea to a God we could barely believe existed after such trauma and degradation of our spirits

"Make this a place of life.  A place of thriving spirits.  Make us understand each other and bring healing here."

And over the months that two bedroom, one and a half bathroom apartment became a hub.

Our couches became worn with the bodies that stayed over night for comfort.  Our kitchen was filled with food, drink and conversation.  Our walls leaked music and dance.  

Dance partner came for practice, friends came for creative conversation, cousins came to stay overnight, words of affirmation and encouragement overflowed and our door '305' became a number referenced in conversations.  

Barkton Place blossomed into a haven and a safety net for our friends.  For us.

We grew.  We learned.  We were blessed.

Blessings overturning into blessings.

And now that Barkton Place has been left behind we embark on a new journey of setting up a new home.

"What kind of couple are we?" I asked the one girl who saw us through all of these changes.

"I don't need to answer this for you.  You already know." She responded.

"No I don't."  But really, I did.  My spirit knew, but I wanted to hear it aloud.

"You are makers...you are ... you both embody what home is.  You are East Coast Lifestylers."

And that is what we have become.  Jeremy and I.

We have been enriched by our home.  Our roots.  We are enriched by those who have passed through our doors.

May our new home off the shores of Halifax be as open as Barkton Place became.  May our daughter be blessed by the musicians, the food and the freedom that we have found in passing grace as easily as we pass the bread and the wine.  May we allow this new home to be transformed into a new chapter of abundance, discovery and discovery.  

Brirthing Zoë.  Many people have asked me to tell the story.  Some expect a tale of agony and negativity, others expect a retelling play by play of a 'movie' scene. 

I have neither.

What I do have, is a marathon experience I will never forget.

Birthing Zoë was one of the most powerful experiences I have ever had and I know, if given the opportunity to bring another life into this world I will do it again in a heartbeat.

It started between 10:00 - 11:00pm.  My husband, Jeremy and I were soaking the bathtub (something I highly recommend to all pregnant women and couples in general) when I began feeling what were the beginning of contractions.  They were mild and could only be explained as cramps at that point in time, but they felt oddly more patterned than the cramps I was experiencing off and on the past two to three weeks.  

"I'll time them to see if they are the real thing."  Jeremy said, urging me to tell him when I felt something.

"Now."  I replied when I felt a slight cramp.

"It's gone."  I would reply when it had ended.

This went on for a while when we realized, that if this indeed was the real thing, we needed to get as much sleep as possible.

Of course, I didn't get sleep after that, but after a call at around 1am to our Doula, Jeremy was able to sleep for the next almost two hours while I worked through the rest of the mild contractions.  

They progressed for the next few hours from mild to moderatly strong.  I went from laying beside Jeremy with phone in hand going through pinterest and saving motivational birth quotes to my camera roll and as phone wallpaper to motivate me, to getting out of bed and breathing through more powerful contractions that made me sway with the intensity.

Are they painful? So many people have asked.

What is pain?  Is all I can respond with.  When your body is doing something right, do we feel it as pain?  Pain is what our brains tell us it is.  I chose to see these powerful surges as ocean waves my body was experiencing to bring this baby down and into my arms.  I am not sure that I remember feeling 'pain', but I remember thinking "THIS IS INTENSE!"

Intense it is and intense it was.

Between 3 and 4am I woke Jeremy up and told him it was time to be awake and help bring our bags to the car.  I was going to stay in the shower.  I let my body expierence the surges get stronger and stronger in the shower until the inevitable for me.  I began to transition from contractions that were 7-9 minutes apart to contractions 4-6 minutes apart and I vomitted my dinner as the water poured over my body.  I turned off the shower, giving up on that kind of relaxation teqnique.  

Between 4am- 5am our Doula arrived and the contractions were now 4-5 minutes apart.  We moved to the bathroom where she helped get my yoga mat and exercise ball in place for me to kneel and have support.

By 6-7am we made the transition to the hospital where my contractions were then a consistent 1-2 minutes apart.  The registration office tried to downplay my need to be seen right away, but it became obvious very quickly that 'first baby' or not, I was in very active labour.  The transition from seeing the nurse in registration to being seen upstairs on the labour floor did take more time than I was in the mood for, but I stayed focus on the waves and laughed when I was asked to lay down so they could check my cervix.

"Your kidding!?"  I remember saying after another wave subsided and another began.  I did get on the bed, and she did check my cervix.  All the while, I was telling myself that labour can take days for some people and that I needed to not care about numbers, time, or how fast things were progressing.  I needed to stay present.  That was my only job.  

Stay present and strong.

"You are six centemters."  She said.

I tried not to let that number excite me, but I do remember giving myself a mental high five and inward dance.

From there, they transferred me to our room and again, I inwardly laughed when the nurse pointed at the bed. 

"In what world does that look comfortable?"  I said to myself with inward snark. "But this looks great."  I walked towards a huge garbage can and vomitted again.  It felt good to know I was transitioning from stage to stage well.  

"Tub." is what I remember saying to my doula and Jeremy.  And there I stayed in the tub on all fours, on my side and sitting holding onto a bar.  

I didn't say much out loud, or make noises.  Noise bothered me, and probably because I had so much going on in my head.  Inside I was talking a mile a minute to myself.

I said things like 

"I am going to do this and be amazing."

"This could take more than twenty four hours.  Don't have expectations, just do this."

"These are the precious moments our lives are made of."

And I had endless lyrics and beats filtering through my mind as well:

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stand a little taller ...."

"One jump ahead of the breadline ....I steal only what I can't afford, and thats everything....Riffraff street rat, I don't buy that..."

In some ways it felt like time had stopped.  In others it felt like time flew by fast and before I knew it I was on all fours in the tub, with all kinds of things floating along with me.  Jeremy wasn't phased by what my body was shedding.  Blood, poop, membranes... it was all apart of the process and as I glanced at the floaters I remember thinking 

"This is the real *shit* right here.  This labour thing, it's more real than any poop I've ever had."

Before I knew it my body was pushing.  What they don't tell you about pushing, is that it really isn't an option.  Like a sneeze, or vomiting, it is a neccessary action your body doesn't give you a choice on.  Nobody tells animals when to push, and I guess thats why I accepted the pushing when it came.  

"Trust in God, and trust your body."  Our doula whispered in my ear when the pushing began.  

I could feel Zoë's head in my pelvis and I thought she was going to come out right then.  The nurse and doctors had no idea how far along this was until finally they checked and I could hear the bustling began.  Jeremy and the nurse lifted me out of the tub and onto the bed.  It was an unfortanate positioning that I got stuck in.  I couldn't get my body to change positions after she entered my pelvis so on my back I was.  

There I pushed for almost an hour, and to some that might seem exaushting.  But this was my favourite part.  I felt like I was in the biggest workout session of my life.  Every push felt so rewarding and full of a rush I cannot explain.  

If it were not for the membrane still over her head, she would have been out in no time, but of course, Zoë and I couldn't make it too easy for everyone.  With every push she would come farther out but get sucked back in because of the pressure of the membrane.  And I knew this because the Doctor, who was Katherine Heigals doppelgänger, was explaining all of this to her resident.  

"I AM IN A GREYS ANATOMY EPISODE!!!!!!!! THIS IS TOO COOL!"  I said to myself, and only hoped Jeremy was thinking the same thing.  "Too bad theres not brain surgeon needed... maybe he would look like Patrick Dempsy."  

Needless to say, at 11:53 I gave that final push that felt like all my intestines were falling out of my body, but was actually all of Zoë and her umbilical cord. I was grappling for her as she layed on my lower abdomen.  She wasn't yet cut from me, yet I wanted her as close to my face as I could get her.  She was so strong, so beauitful and utterly captivating.  I didn't check to see if she was a girl, because I already knew.  Mothers just know these things.

We snuggled and cuddled and the bonding process began.  I had always read about skin on skin bonding, how it has saved babies and moms lives just by doing it.  How it regulates both baby and mom, but it wasn't until Zoë was born that I truly understood how important.  This was essential to us and it was magical.  

There I was completely naked as I was when I was born and there she was herself, just as she is.

We were the most raw of ourselves.

It wasn't long after she was born that I began to talk everyones ear off.  Zoë was a strong little girl who was already lifting her head, climbing to the breast and feeding off me as if it was her last meal.  It was the her first of many.  

After a half hour without the placenta coming out naturally Dr. Katherine Heigal look alike told me she might have to think about giving me the pitocin shot to hurry things along.  I made a face, let another mild contraction wave build and pushed, letting the placenta fall out of me.

"You mean all I had to do was ask?"  She laughed.

"Pretty much."  I smirked, enjoying the high natural labour was giving me.

And that is where the problems arose.  

Due to the tears and extra membranes still inside me, my bleeding seemed abnormal and strange.  It was confusing to them as they inspected my placenta and saw it all intact yet still found membranes.  

They rolled my stomach like bread dough and Zoë still resting and nursing on my chest heard her mamas first yells.  

Labour was nothing.  Contractions and pushing was nothing that needed to be yelled about.  Just deep breathing and concentration.  

But.

When your stomach is being rolled out like dough to find if there is more blood to come out, that, my friend is the real unexpected painful moment.

All in all, it didnt last long, we made the decision to give me the pitocin my body needed to stop the bleeding and although they had to stitch me up, I was still in a very good mood and place.

"You've had such a good birth, I am really sorry we had to do this."  Dr. Heigal said to me as she watched her intern stitch me up.

"Oh it's okay!  It's probably a good thing you look like Katherine Heigal though."  I teased. 

"YES!  THANK-YOU!"  Jeremy exclaimed.  "I've been thinking that the whole time."

The room burst with laughter and I held Zoë tighter as they finished their work.

Once they were finished, the nurse helped me get up to shower.  The first time since she was conceived that I was separated from Zoë.  I missed her already.   I felt unsteady but strong.  Like a warrior and I looked at the key around my wrist.  I felt like I lived up to the word and was determined to continue that journey as I recovered with my daughter.

Settling back into the bed with sore lady places I took my halter top down and placed my daughter back onto my skin.  

And I ate and ate and ate.

I have never had as much food as I did that day and the next three days.  

I downed protien drinks, oatmeal, prunes, fruit bars, cookies and more.  

Once in our room Jeremy asked me what I wanted for dinner and a quick glance at the menu said it all.

"Waffle breakfast for dinner please!"  I grinned up at him with our daughter asleep in my arms.

It's been exactly seven weeks since that day and now, I still wear this key as I continue on my journey of Mama Wellness with the word Strength around my wrist.  I've watched the weight fall off as I have embraced my yoga practice, and introduced cardio back into my life.  We have embraced nutrition in a whole new way and those extra five pounds that are on their way out, they have taught me a lot.

I embrace the tiger stripes on my abdomen and although it makes me hesitant to wear a bikini I have found that sexiness isn't about how your body looks, but in how strong you are.

Strength is sexy

Scars are sexy.

And my tiger stripes are just another story that brings my husband and I closer together.

Mamas who embrace their strength and scars are the most sexy of women.

It was in January of 2014 that I began preparing for motherhood.  I decided I wasn't going to put my body in the position of child bearing until I had conditioned it in strength, endurance, health and wellness.    As the months passed by, I began to see how strengthening my body to support a life was paying off.  I felt the most alive I had ever felt.  

It was in June 2014 that I felt my body, mind and soul was ready for the carrying of a new life.

It was August 2014 that a pregnancy test came back positive.  I was pregnant.

It was September 2014 that we picked her name and I knew she was a Zoë.  Sometimes a mother just knows.

It was January 2015 that I knew I wanted to deliver as natural as possible and was needing a support system for the journey.  Adrienne Kelher joined my husband and I on the preparation for this girl.

It was May 3rd 2015, when Zoë Wing Zhe Lai was born.  A petite but healthy six pounds and twelve ounces, this little girl was all muscle tone and wild lungs.  

Now, it is June 11 2015, just under ten pounds away from my pre-birth weight and working hard to recover and help my body back into that place of strength and endurance again.  Zoë is over ten pounds, sleeping from 7pm - 10pm & 11pm - 4:30am, smiling and finding her voice.  We girls are strong women and both of us, with strong voices have been bonding.

Now I believe strongly in the importance of prenatal wellness preparation and postnatal wellness strategies.  Baby blues and Postpartum depression is very real and the societal knowledge of it is still spotty,  

Now I believe that the desires of mom and baby come first before any expectations.  We should be encouraging the mother and baby bonding before rushing to take over and 'hold'.  Babies are tiny humans with very small and still developing nervous systems with research now showing that their abilities to withstand being passed around and being over stimulated is low.  Moms are pressured to be sharing the one thing they worked hard to maintain and keep safe for almost a solid year.  The repreccusions of rushing the bonding process has detrimental health affects on both mom and baby.  

Now I believe in everyones individual birth story being a miracle and an amazing journey.

Now I believe that the journey to motherhood is holy, spiritual and a very individual process.  No one woman's journey is the same.  

Now I understand my own mother just a bit more.

And now,

I work hard to be the balanced and well mother that this girl deserves.

I dedicate my life to live by example and encourage her to seek her identity in the One who made her.  

She is Zoë, and I, am Amy.

I've got my singing voice on blast now, because it's getting down to the wire.  This little one and I have a marathon to run and we've been preparing.  Her with her persistence and me with my determination.

Emotionally, Spiritually, Mentally and Physically. 

The journey of bringing a life into the world is all encompassing.  The more this life moves and follows me daily as I do my own life, I have been realizing how important our surroundings are.

Maintaining an atmosphere of strength, purpose and sweet surrender to the beauty of life unpredictable has been a mantra.

We've set up a birth plan, washed the clothes, got the carseat locked in, and we've embraced the unpredictable.  We don't want to live in a life of fear or perfect planning, but in the moment of the daily. 

Words are so important.  Keeping the words around us positive and speaking life over this process has been a realization of the life our little family want to live.  

A life redeemed with spirits released to the trust and peace that only God can give.  

So many of us do not realize how our own experiences, worries, fears and overall mindsets can affect another. 

May I be so aware of myself and how I affect this little heart.  May I speak words of life and faith.  May I deny "myself" so I can be the grounding my child needs.  Not to negate myself and needs, but to take stock in what I may carry that need not be shared.  May I be the fighter and the protector but not the controller.  May I train my mothering like an athlete, that I will understand how to use my abilities in a way that holds on when needed but knows instinctively when to let go.  Because the letting go is as important as the holding on. 

There is an amazing team of people preparing for this life and we are blessed daily by them and their care.  

This is it sweet one.  The stage is set, the curtains are ready.  This is your first call.  

Babymoon in December 2014

Twenty-seven weeks pregnant,  glass of milk in hand, savouring these moments that have accumulated over the past three or so months.

They were right when they said the second trimester brings a new sense of energy, glow, and renewed sense of body awareness.  I am not sure if I have ever felt as sexy as I do now.  Sure I can't fit into that dress I bought from New York.  The one that hugged my frame and showed that I was indeed all woman.  But this is something magical!  This growing body of mine has taken on a life that has words to share, and adventures up her sleeve.  There is a delicate but very notable change in my curves and I never knew one could stretch in this way.  Stretch in all ways physical and all ways spiritual.

Pregnancy is a spiritual thing I have come to realize.

It is an ode to creation and all things that speak to something more.  I have been digging for the more, and it has been refreshing and renewing.

She bumps and turns.  She hiccups and kicks.  She has felt the rumble of her cats purr above her while they sleep and she has learned that her mama is a reader and a singer.

My heart began to burn during these moments and I realized how much it truly does burn.  A mama will burn for all things to procure a journey for a life.  It's realizing the values and morals.  The hopes and dreams.  The way in which we crave to raise her.  It brings a new sense of reason to the day to day.  And we aren't scared.  

We've been through fire and we came out refined.  We'd do it again.

So all this talk about parenthood taking us out:  

"You'll never have your body back."

"You'll never pee normal again."

"Save up on your sleep now, you won't get it back for a long time."

"Say goodbye to a social life."

I call those negative, destructive words and claims over our lives out.  They have no place over us, and no claim on our hearts.

Because people trash real life as if it's a shame.  They walk around wounded that life has seasons and responsibility.  They miss the real life moments because they are too busy thinking they got tricked by a transition.. 

So those people who like to sarcastically add 'helpful' quips to a soon-to-be-mamas heart...they don't have it right.  They have it all messed up and contaminated.  Life is meant to be lived not everyday the same, but everyday anew.  I won't trick myself into thinking that my physical, my mental, my emotional can maintain the same.  I'll be renewing it again and again, because I want to enjoy this life and all it's seasons no matter the circumstance.  No matter the convienence or inconvenience.  

This has been magical.

These months of growth have been filled with glimmer and sprinkled with worry.

All the way it is supposed to be.

Because she is life, and life is full of all the moments.

Not just one. 

I'm starting a new video series on Mondays. Check my YouTube Channel weekly for updates.

©2014 Jeremy Lai

The past thirteen weeks have been the most humbling weeks of my life.  I assume that the humbling has just begun, because you see... I am carrying a life. A life completely different from me.  A life full of unique possibilities and although it may share half of my DNA it has a unique voice that I cannot speak to.

We are calling 'it' Roo while we wait for the big ultrasound appointment coming up in about a month or so.  Names have been picked out but wait for delivery day to get used and for now Roo, because of Kangaroos ... and if anyone knows Winnie the Pooh, I need not explain.

Considering myself to be 'A Maker' this is about as 'Maker' as one can get.  This growing belly, heart beat inside of me, and purging my stomach of foods and smells I cannot stand.  This is the ultimate making.  I am a factory for life, dreams, hopes and personality.

This hasn't been easy, this morning sickness thing.  We mamas brave the storm of life and vomit in all sorts of places.  Cars, parking lots, garbage cans, toilets...other peoples toilets... we do what we can to stay hydrated and fed, but the truth is, it is the ultimate test.

Can you take care of your child's mother the way she deserves?

It would be so easy to skip the water and the meals... trust me,.... when you are vomiting daily...the concept of meals becomes a chore and for a fooide like me, well, utterly disappointing.

I have felt a little less than.

Sure, I get it, the hormones do that.  But the 'doer' and the 'maker' of me is yelling daily.  "Get up!  GO!  Do it all! Dance, write, sing, party, don't be slaking!"

I let it slip out a time or too.

"I am not making anything of worth right now!" 

A woman or two scowl in reply. 

"You are making a human being of major worth right now!"

And I slump back and realize that the purging of my stomach and the whole shift of my life is for the health and goodness for a tiny soul inside, and for me as well.  Because becoming a mama isn't a sentence for an artist.  It's a blessing. 

A child's eyes have the wonder every writer, painter, dancer, singer, musician needs and I will be drenched in it.  However this tiny life comes out, I will see life new and different because of it, and that will only make me better for it.

So I guess the morning routine of pee, vomit-in-garbage-can , and husband passes breakfast to slowly digest, is all worth it, and truly... how amazing is this growing belly?

I have been spending the summer months teaching a very special group of children.  A new batch come in every week but the feeling stays the same.  

Glee. 

I have one week of teaching left for this Season and I have learned three things:

1.  Creating a sense of wonder is worth it.

2. Staying present is essential.

3. Children can give or drain energy depending on your attitude.

Wonder is worth it because wonder is what creates a sense of hope.  When we have wonder over something, there is a part of our insides that jumps and grows.  Creating wonder for children isn't a hard task.  It happened when I decided to show up to the first day of work (albeit late after a car breakdown in a major intersection) dressed as a fairy and staying in character all week.  It happened when I chose to story tell after all little bodies were tucked in tight and small in a circle with sounds they echoed.  (Once Upon a time there was a girl who bumped into a tiger...ROAR...)  It happened when, after a busy day of learning they all fell on the blanket and with quiet voices talked about magical things.  It happened when fairy dust in the form of glitter was sprinkled over their heads as they wished.  It happened.

As adults we loose that sense of wonder so fast, but I found it.  It happened when I ate dinner on a beach as the sun was setting and the grey clouds swirled above us.  It happened when I tasted the most delicious chocolate peanut butter cup from a local café.  It happened when I stepped into a move with a dance partner that was the most in sync we have been in a long time.  It happened when I covered Little V's toes in a sandbox.

Staying present is what makes all of these things have meaning.  Children don't know how to worry past their next thought.  They may worry on a lost item, or something they just remembered they forgot to do, but mostly...they worry on nothing.  They are present in the moment.  And as one precious four year old who has been taking grammar classes said through a stall door "I didn't quite know it before, but I am going to take longer than I thought.  I need to poop."  and later again said, when asked to sit up.  "Obviously, I am very tired right now."  

How honest.

How true.

May I remember to communicate in a way that is real to the present. 

How is our attitude towards children? 

It is so easy to see how others can be drained by them.  They see "responsibility" "work" "annoyance". I see "freedom"  "play" and "learning".  The days I chose to look at my teaching job with the word "Job", I went home drained.  I went home craving a break.

The days I went to my teaching position with the word "Learning".  I learned.

I hope they did too.

But

I learned 

The most.

I am thankful to have experienced these wonderful life lessons this Summer. 

Amy Grace & Jasmine Alexander by Nicole Payzant Photography 

Jasmine Alexander and Amy Grace are adventure women.  They created a friendship out of the loose ends of life and all the bits in-between.  Each of them enjoy collaborating on projects together and both have a passion for the work they do.  

Jasmine and Amy have a history of being a tad goofy, while at the same time stopping mid-laugh to discuss deep and important issues.

Postal Dairies is the beginning of their time a part for the Summer of 2014.  Both artists have a lot going on, and yet both want to stay in touch.  Watch as they work through a new season of adventures, life and work. 

Since the beginning of 2014 I began writing two nights a week on a concept that has been simmering for a year.

 All writers need to protect their work and give it the space and time it needs but I hope to bring you all with me in the process of this story.  This is an attempt at a fictional look of light and dark.  What it means to be deceived, live a lie, and then learn to live the truth and tell it. 

To date, I have experienced five "Write Nights" and have been surprised by every turn these characters have taken.  I am continually amazed by how showing up to write brings this concept to a more vibrant place than I could have imagined. 

I look forward to sharing this experience with you. 

©2014 Jeremy Lai