Skip to main content

a gentle knock

lately i have been tired and slowly chipping away at my to-do list without any real sense of urgency. yesterday though, it hit me... i have two weeks left and still lots to do! so with a burst of energy (i guess what they would consider a true nesting instinct) i spent the day busy running errands, finishing cleaning and organizing the nursary, and getting ready for this baby to actually arrive. by 9pm, withough having had my usual afternoon nap, i was still not tired and felt restless and a little off. then the contractions began coming... 6 minutes apart, 5 minutes apart... not very strong, but surely there. by 1 in the moring i was still contracting and not really able to sleep so i called my doctor. was this it?

my husband gulped down a cup of coffee and started packing bags for my son and for us. at the doctors suuggestion i hopped into the shower to see what, if anything would happen, and nothing really changed. by 3am, i finally felt tired and it seemed my contractions might be slowing down so i decided to catch a few hours of sleep.

showing other small signs of early labor now, i am heading off to my doctors this morning to get checked. having anticipated a planned c-section, the thought of going through labor and then delivering by cesarean (again) would not be ideal, but whatever will be, will be. my instincts are telling me though my baby is knocking gently on the door and it's almost time. part of me is excited with the anticipation of finally meeting this little one... another part of me is wishing the baby would just wait a wee bit longer, not really sure if i am absolutely ready.

truly the best of all scenarios is that we simply end up with a healthy and happy baby.

it won't be long...


Popular posts from this blog

Inner Alchemy Cards: Build A New World Deck

Our next make-your-own card adventure is finally here! Inner Alchemy Collage: Build A New World Deck (online) is an artful exploration of language, learning, inspiration, and collaboration, that delves into important ideas around activism and systems of oppression. This is a way for us to examine and disrupt harmful dominant narratives, tell new stories, and inspire one another to use our creativity and personal power to help build the collective world we all want to live in! In the end you will have a beautiful and meaningful handmade deck of 35 oracle cards to use as unique a tool for guidance and reflection whenever you need it.  I'm your host,  Mindy Tsonas Choi , an artist, organizer, radical belonging activist, and the founder of the Be Seen Project - a grassroots initiative resourcing BIPOC artist and makers working in activism. Join me along with other stellar artists, makers and co-creators who have also been exploring social justice and activism as part of their creativ

The Cost of Selling Belonging

As someone who use to sell belonging and believed I was creating something universally magical , I now have fresh eyes on the harm that I once caused. I understand what can (and was) incredibly healing and impactful for some, was at the same time excluding, marginalizing and undervaluing others. First, to anyone who ever felt like they did not belong to anything I created because they were unable to afford it or felt like they did not have the social capitol to join -  I am sincerely sorry for not seeing you sooner .   To our entire creative community as a whole, I urge us all to think about belonging in new and equitable ways, and to do the work of dismantling these hierarchical structures that leave so many people out of the circle. We all deserve to have access to creativity and belonging, and I'd go so far as to say both are fundamental basic human needs and rights. Selling belonging can look like... Creating spaces and experiences that can only be accessed by buying in at one,

what's in a name?

It’s May 14, 2020 and I’m on a transnational call with a social worker and translator of the SOS Children’s Village offices in South Korea. It’s 7pm my time and 9am the next day in Korea, which adds to the surreal quality of the moment. It is my first long distance call following my inquiry with the organization documented to be my first place of entry into the system, found in my Korean records (the acquisition of which is an incredible story in and of itself). It was July 21, 1972 and I was 5 months old. It’s a small miracle the organization still exists, and an even bigger blessing that they took such time and care in searching for information and to talk it all through with me in person. I try not to cry as the call connects. What I learn is a lot of small details about that fateful evening which amount to nothing traceable, but still feel like huge missing pieces of my life. I was left near the entrance around 7pm under a small tree, wrapped in a blanket with only a name scribble