tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67201964749977327382024-03-14T04:13:36.830-07:00my t(ruth)Kamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-10346453307186360212019-08-14T11:05:00.000-07:002019-08-14T11:05:24.477-07:00The Colors of My HeartYou know how people sometimes put little emoji hearts in different colors into their posts and comments online? <br />
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I'm one of those people.<br />
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It took me a while to join the club. For a long time, I was afraid to dive into the realm of emojis because picking stuff out often takes me forever. I'm so perfectionistic and particular: I have to feel like I've chosen the exact right thing out of the whole list of options. It takes me WAY long enough just deciding on the right words to put into my post or comment, without having a seemingly endless array of little icons to choose from as well!! However, I found the basic emoticons that one can type out (<i>e.g.</i> :), ;), :D, ^_^, \o/, <3, :(, :'(, >:(, :P, D:, :O) a very useful means of communicating those very important wordless messages that would be transmitted via facial expressions or other body language in face-to-face interactions. Those became indispensable to me -- and once I got a smartphone, it wasn't a huge leap from using those to using the emoji versions thereof. All the faces I use are the basic yellow color, just varying in expression; but the hearts come in a rainbow of different colors, which of course presented me with a mini version of the oversized array of choices that I had originally dreaded. I use hearts all the time, and now, every time I want to pictorially share my love with someone, I have to decide what color it comes in!!!! What do I do?!<br />
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It DOES take me even longer now to write texts and Facebook messages or comments because of the array of color choices in the emoji heart department, which is unfortunate, like I said, given how long that stuff already takes me. However, I've found that there is a good side to the rainbow of hearts. It gives me the opportunity to get in touch with my intuitive and creative right brain -- to be more aware of my feelings and give vent to them through nonverbal, artistic expression, which is therapeutic!<br />
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Now when I want to share my love with someone via little heart icons and I have to decide which color(s) to use, I take a moment to turn off my active mind and simply feel what my heart is feeling at that point in time.<br />
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If I use a blue heart -- the color of a vast expanse of water reflecting the cloudless sky -- it means I'm feeling peaceful and serene.<br />
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If I use a green heart -- the color of the tiny seedling plants that come up through the cracks between the sidewalk slabs, and, if given free rein, would bit by bit take over the entire earth and cover all signs of this present demoniac "civilization" in a riot of wild, free, living and life-giving beauty -- it means I may (possibly) be feeling fragile and vulnerable at that moment, but I am (definitely) feeling hope for the future.<br />
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If I use a yellow heart -- the color of the noonday sun -- it means I am at the summit of radiant joy and gladness.<br />
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If I use a pink or purple heart -- colors often found in plenty only among some of nature's sweetest gifts, such as flowers and fruits -- it means my heart is especially filled with sweet emotions of affection and love for the other person. Pink reminds me more of spring and early summer -- almond and cherry trees covered with blossom, or pink roses (the flower whose name is the very word for pink in the Romance languages). To me, it carries with it an aura of fresh new beginnings; it has more eager, excited, youthful energy than purple. The first flush of dawn, announcing the arrival of the sun who comes to bring warmth to the world; blushing brides; and newborn babies are among the things the color pink calls to mind for me. <br />
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Purple, on the other hand, reminds me more of mid-to-late summer and early autumn. It is deep, full, mature, rich and ripe. It makes me think of fragrant fields full of spire-shaped flowers like lupines, salvia and butterfly bush, or the famous honey-scented heather that turns the moors purple. (And though irises are generally more of a spring flower, I've learned that there are some that bloom again in fall, and I can't resist including here some pictures of one such variety!!! :D) Sweet, juicy purple berries fruiting in the middle of summer and plump, mellow purple plums in late summer and early fall also come to mind. As to the time of day, the word "dusky" is used to mean dark or purplish, and dusk is when the day is complete (again, = full or mature), the burning sun has gone down and the soft, soothing gentleness of night is spreading over the land, and of course, if there are clouds in the sky they are often prone to taking on a purplish hue, so there you go. If I use a purple heart, it means that instead of (or in addition to) the enthusiastic affection of pink, my heart is full of deep love that is quiet but very meaningful. <br />
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If I use a black heart -- a color utterly devoid of light, and therefore of life and hope -- it means I am in a pit of misery and depression. <br />
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I must add here a disclaimer. Although I usually choose the color of heart that best reflects my mood at the time, that's not 100% guaranteed to happen. Sometimes I sense that if I use black hearts, the reader will feel it's a strange color choice and that something may be wrong. Sometimes I choose a different color that's less weird and alarming, that doesn't risk ruining the mood of others. Also, I remember once in particular when I selected black hearts, but after posting, they showed up as pink. I also vaguely recall the reverse happening at least once. Emojis don't always "translate" perfectly across platforms, so there's always the possibility that I might have chosen a different color and it just didn't show up that way once posted. Lastly, there are many occasions when I don't want to take the time to choose any particular color of heart, so I just type the "heart" symbol combination (<3), and it often gets automatically turned into a heart -- usually a pink/reddish one nowadays, though once upon a time a small black heart was the automatic kind, and it still might be in some places. So, please bear in mind that any of these factors could potentially be affecting the emoji hearts that show up in my posts. But generally, the colors of those tiny hearts do reflect the way my real heart is feeling. <3 <3 :)Kamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-71929766536309957142019-04-05T13:50:00.000-07:002019-04-16T09:39:26.226-07:00Prologue to Birth Story #3: *Vaishnava Dasa*My pregnancy with Rohan was physically easier than either of my previous pregnancies, but emotionally it was the hardest. I went through a lot of suffering and depression. Finally, though, one day I had a huge, super important realization. I realized that what I'd been trying to do to achieve spiritual happiness -- <i>i.e.,</i> chanting the Hare Krishna <i>maha-mantra</i> and reading the <i>Shrimad-Bhagavatam</i> at home alone -- was not enough. (I'd already heard that it wasn't enough, but this is when I <i>realized</i> it!!) Trying to achieve spiritual success exclusively by those means amounted to trying to jump directly to Krishna's lotus feet, which isn't the process Krishna wants us to follow. He wants us to be humble, to be aware that we're tiny, inexperienced children in devotional service, in need of training from an expert devotee who can teach us how to serve the Supreme Lord. If we don't have a guide, the odds are that we'll make many mistakes and do things Krishna doesn't like in our blind, groping, stumbling efforts to find and serve Him, which was exactly my experience. <br />
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I had known those things, but since Shrila Prabhupada is a perfect guide, and he translated and wrote the purports to the <i>Shrimad-Bhagavatam,</i> and it was on his advice that I was chanting Hare Krishna, I'd been thinking that I was under his shelter -- and of course I was, and that was wonderful. But that still wasn't enough. Shrila Prabhupada has disappeared from our sight in this world and gone back to the spiritual world to be with Krishna. We can see his <i>murti</i> in the temple, just like we can see Krishna's. We can read his words in the books, just like we can read Krishna's. And just like with Krishna, the only way we can speak to Shrila Prabhupada is through prayer -- and we can't hear his answer unless he makes that possible through some special, miraculous experience. The experience of being under Shrila Prabhupada's shelter and guidance is thus exactly the same as being under Krishna's... which means that for all intents and purposes, he might as well be Krishna as far as we're concerned (although, of course, we know he's not); he's practically on the same level as Krishna. What I'm saying is that if we're trying to make Shrila Prabhupada our direct, immediate guide, that's also an incorrect jumping process, and it's not enough. That's not all we need in our devotional life. We need personal guidance and human interaction <i>here,</i> on <i>this</i> plane of existence. We need to seek not just (theoretical) book-learning, but practical, real-life, <i>interactive</i> learning in how to serve Krishna through serving the Vaishnavas (devotees) who are His loving and beloved servants. And since relationships go two ways, we need to not only serve the Vaishnavas, but also allow them to take care of us! <br />
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Whenever I've felt depressed, it's always been because life was too hard and I didn't have enough support. With this new realization, I suddenly felt as if everything was clear. I was too isolated, at home alone with two kids and another on the way (and in the evenings with my husband, whom I love dearly and am very grateful to because he works hard to financially maintain us, helps out with the babies when he's home and once in awhile does some housework, and is mostly very tolerant of my shortcomings, bless his heart!!!!... but... he doesn't always understand me and is sometimes a bit too harsh and short-tempered). I was pretty cut off from any kind of gentle, sympathetic, female association, and I suddenly realized how badly I needed just that. <i>Vaishnavi</i> (female devotee) association, to be specific. I needed to serve the Vaishnavis, and I needed to let them take care of me. That kind of nurturing interchange would save me. My depression would immediately go away, and the ugly, rotten, moldy stagnation of my life would be replaced by a brisk current of wholesome joy, love, and spiritual progress. <br />
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I cried to Shrimati Radharani as I was chanting, praying to Her as the universal mother to mother me through Her servants. I felt so grateful for all these realizations. I also saw that if not for the emotional suffering I'd been going through due to this pregnancy, I would not have realized the futility and inadequacy of what I'd been doing to achieve happiness, nor become so desperate to seek answers as to what else I needed to do. Consequently, I could literally credit the baby in my womb (and, of course, Krishna for sending him there!) for bringing home to me at last the well-known fact, sung profusely and with maximum emphasis throughout the scriptures and often heard by me but never <i>realized</i> before, that association with and service to devotees (Vaishnavas) is the key to everything.<br />
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I'd known that Krishna never puts His devotees through suffering without having a great reason for it, a vital lesson for them to learn through it. But it was wonderful to see it now. Here it was -- the reason for all the suffering I'd had to go through with this pregnancy. And sure enough, it was 100% worth it. I was very glad now for every bit of emotional pain I'd gone through, because it had all helped bring me to this point. I prayed to Krishna, expressing my gratitude that, in His wisdom and mercy, He had, even against my will, sent me this child, who was like His ambassador to teach me about the supreme glory and importance of service to the Vaishnavas. <br />
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Then, suddenly, I felt as if Lord Vishnu was speaking to me, confirming my idea and suggesting that this supremely glorious purpose of this child's advent into our family be honored and commemorated by giving him the name Vaishnava dasa. <br />
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I was elated, and immediately accepted this as being, at least, my own name for him. I was thrilled to have, for the very first time, the experience of having a name already decided on for a child before the child was born. The idea of having no stress after the birth over picking a name within a given amount of time, because we already <i>had</i> a name for him, was novel and wonderfully peaceful; it made me very glad. I weighed the value of the communication I'd just received from the Supreme Lord against the idea of checking the baby's astrological chart after his birth for ideas on what to name him, and there was no comparison. The former felt purely transcendental to me, whereas the latter, although in line with a science given by God, was material. <br />
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However, I thought it was important for my husband to also be happy with the name we would give our son, and I didn't know what he would think of the name Vaishnava dasa. I prepared myself for the possibility that he might not like the name. I decided that I would be fine with whatever. I was excited about the name and hoped he might like it, but if he didn't, that would be OK too. We could go ahead with our usual program of consulting our astrologer friends after the birth and picking out a name accordingly, and Vaishnava dasa could just be my own special name for our son. <br />
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As it happened, indeed, my husband wasn't crazy about the name Vaishnava, so we went our usual route in naming our child, and came up with a name we both loved, which I am very happy with. But I still call our Ro-Ro "my little Vaishnava" sometimes. ^_^ And I discovered something so interesting to me! <br />
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The idea of giving him a name starting with a Swati syllable (Ru, Re, Ro, or Ta) was to strengthen the effects of Jupiter on him (which was located in Swati <i>nakshatra</i> when he was born). But I read that there is also another way to give a child a name connected with a particular <i>nakshatra</i>: you can name the child after the demigod who rules that <i>nakshatra.</i> In the case of Swati, that demigod is Vayu, the wind-god (who is also famous for being very strong! LOL! *see previous post for the significance of this!* ^_^ ). When I read this, I was delighted, because the names Vaishnava and Vayu both start with the same sound. Although I did not read that the system is to name your child anything starting with the same sound as the <i>nakshatra</i>-ruling demigod's name, but rather to give them that actual demigod name, still, due to the similarity in sound, I felt as though this astrologically validated the name Vaishnava for him. Woo-hoo! :D LOL! :DKamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-26132166023777920812019-04-04T17:07:00.000-07:002019-04-17T12:07:23.778-07:00Birth Story #3, Part 5: Third Time's the Charmer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Meet Ro-Ro!</span></div>
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(His sister gave him that nickname, and it stuck. ^_^)</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Late February 2018. Nearing three months old.</span></div>
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I said that I did end up having the Monday baby I'd been yearning for, because he was born well before sunrise on Tuesday morning -- which means, by Vedic understanding, that the Moon's influence was still in effect. For a long time, I thought he was really moonlike. :) Unlike his adorable but skinny sister, Ro-Ro is all chubby curves, and to me, his rounded lines made him resemble the full moon in shape. ^_^ Also, much more so than with either of his elder siblings, I seemed to be always struck by the whiteness of Rohan's complexion, and white is the color of the Moon. According to the Vedas, the Moon has a very cooling and pleasing effect, and Rohan's generally peaceful, chilled-out nature has been very pleasing to everyone who gets to know him. Both his older siblings are highly dramatic and emotional, prone to frequent rides on the psychological roller coaster from high to low and back, but Rohan has been our even-keeled Mr. Cool much of the time -- relaxed, happy, patient, tolerant and undemanding. As you can imagine, he's been a breath of fresh air in our home. <br />
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With his Sun being in Sagittarius (according to Western or tropical astrology, which I also take into account), a fire sign, he was bound to have some fiery <i>yang</i> energy in him as well. My mom could see it from early on, but for months, I couldn't see what she was talking about. It wasn't until he was an older baby, transitioning toward toddlerhood, that I could finally begin to see the traits in him that she had been alluding to -- and after he turned one, oh my goodness, he became <i>so</i> intense and way-too-much-to-handle!!!! Not all the time, but a <i>lot</i> of the time!! </div>
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Like his sister Lalita, he's always been super intelligent and extremely curious about the world around him. His older brother Bhadra was always much more attracted to animals, but Rohan has had a noticeable attraction from the very beginning to anything with wheels (various vehicles) and machines in general. Of course he's very attracted to animals as well, but since the great interest in wheels and machinery is something I hadn't seen in his older siblings, it's been to me a noteworthy feature of his personality. My younger brother was also always interested in machines and vehicles and how they worked, and would take them apart to study them and try to put them back together. With time he became pretty expert in that regard, and I wouldn't be surprised if Rohan followed in his footsteps. Bhadra has ADHD and I believe Lalita does too, although it hasn't been diagnosed in her yet, but Rohan has, at least thus far, had the attention span, patience and diligence to sit still and thoroughly study and examine something he's interested in to figure out how it works. Sometimes I've called him Parikshit because in Sanskrit, that name means "examiner." :)<br />
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I've been very happy to have an intelligent and curious baby with a long attention span. However, the downside is that, unlike Lalita when she was a baby, he can be very difficult to distract or dissuade when he's latched on to a particular thing he's interested in learning about. Not only is his focus strong, but so is his determination! And not only that, but his <i>physical</i> strength is <i>unbelievable!!</i> My mom and I both agreed; never before had we experienced or dreamed of being forced to use <i>all our adult strength -- </i>fighting <i>desperately!</i> -- just to control an infant and keep him in the sink so that we could wash his poopy bottom. (He wanted to get out so that he could explore the soap and other fun-but-off-limits things he saw near the sink. ;) )<br />
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His incredible strength, pale complexion, and pleasing personality are the reasons why I feel that Rohini-tanaya dasa is a very appropriate name for him. Lord Balarama (Shri Rohini-tanaya) is also white-complexioned, and in <i>Shrimad-Bhagavatam</i> 10.8.12, Gargamuni says:<br />
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<i>ayam hi rohini-putro</i></div>
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<i>ramayan suhrdo gunaih</i></div>
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<i>akhyasyate rama iti</i></div>
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<i>baladhikyad balam viduh</i></div>
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<i>ayam</i>—this; <i>hi</i>—indeed; <i>rohini-putrah</i>—the son of Rohini; <i>ramayan</i>—pleasing; <i>suhrdah</i>—all His friends and relatives; <i>gunaih</i>—by transcendental qualities; <i>akhyasyate</i>—will be called; <i>ramah</i>—by the name Rama, the supreme enjoyer; <i>iti</i>—in this way; <i>bala-adhikyat</i>—because of extraordinary strength; <i>balam viduh</i>—will be known as Balarama.<br />
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"This child, the son of Rohini, will give all happiness to His relatives and friends by His transcendental qualities. Therefore He will be known as Rama. And because He will manifest extraordinary bodily strength, He will also be known as Bala."<br />
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Of course, the amount of these qualities that my child possesses is just a drop in comparison to the entire ocean of such qualities that is present in Shri Baladeva (Lord Balarama). But that's why my son's name is Rohini-tanaya <i>dasa.</i> He's the infinitesimal servant of that Supreme Lord, Shri Rohini-tanaya. ^_^</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Early September 2018 (nine months old). At the temple for Janmashtami (Krishna's birthday)!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Lord Shri Nila-madhava (the form of Krishna who resides there) had been wearing ankle bracelets made of flowers and pumpkin seeds, and one was given to us as <i>maha-prasad</i> (great mercy). </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rohan is wearing it on his head in this picture. ^_^</span></div>
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Anyway, as you can imagine, intense determination to explore certain things (that are, of course, often unsafe or off-limits for other reasons) and unwillingness to be dissuaded from his desired goal, coupled with jaw-dropping super-strength, have made him a <i>really</i> tough toddler to handle!!!! Not to mention the fact that his personality, although delightfully happy, jolly and fun most of the time (as his Old Norse middle name, Raeifr, gives reference to), has not yet developed to the point where he can understand the feelings of others, and at present he's still in the stage where he simply enjoys getting various reactions from other people when he does different things to them -- as if they're toys or machines and it's exciting for him to push different buttons and see what happens! So he can be pretty brutal when he's feeling happy and excited. He'll hit, bite, pinch, pull hair, or climb onto our stomachs and hop up and down, using his full weight (which is considerable -- as his name Rohan denotes, he is growing well!!) to land heavily -- laughing all the while. He can be scary!!!! I often have to shield my face, look down or turn away when he comes close in order to protect myself from his just-for-fun violence. Needless to say, I don't think of him as being so moonlike any more!! </div>
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But he's still irresistibly lovable and charming. So much love has been poured on him for his whole short life that he has total confidence in being loved, and seems to know just how to wrap the rest of us around his little finger. His joy and excitement, his smiles and ridiculously cute facial expressions, his utterly adorable little sounds, his hilarious habits and ways of moving, his generally sweet nature and good attitude -- all of these endear him to us so much that we still adore him and consider him a great blessing from Krishna in our lives, no matter how much he beats up on us right now. We'll be very glad when he grows out of this stage, though, I can tell you that!!!! </div>
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I haven't really had any experience with the infamous "terrible twos," because Bhadra was always a good little boy, and Lalita was terrible as a one-year-old, but by the time she was two she had grown out of most of that and become a very good little girl. We'll see how it goes with Rohan, but I'm hoping he'll be like his sister and become more manageable by that time. At the moment, though, he's definitely in the midst of the "wicked ones," to try and coin a comparable phrase for this age!!</div>
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He's also followed in Lalita's (one-year-old) footsteps in feeling the need to get into everything and throw it all on the floor. He seems to have a mischievous streak, too, so that if we tell him "No!", it just eggs him on. He'll laugh with tremendous, delighted excitement over the opportunity to "live on the edge" by relishing forbidden fun. We've dissolved into laughter on countless occasions of witnessing this hilarious behavior of his.</div>
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He's not only violent toward others, but -- inadvertently, for the most part -- toward himself as well, due to (a) being inordinately wobbly on his feet and (b) being too reckless, fearless, and focused with tunnel vision on his goal. In spite of his questionable sense of balance, he's so eager and bold that he'll <i>run at top speed, </i>even leaning forward as he runs as if to get there sooner, only to trip and fall flat on his face. (Fortunately, since he spends most of the time indoors and we have foam mats covering most of the tile portion of our floor, this doesn't usually lead to his getting hurt.) Hilariously, when this happens, he'll often stay in that position, lying on the floor for a while. He'll turn his head to the side and often move his arms in stroking motions over the floor, just looking chilled-out. I jokingly refer to this as his "I meant to do that" move. </div>
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He really does get hurt often, though. Sometimes he falls on a hard surface that doesn't have a covering of foam; other times he hits something on his way down. He's also often misjudged the height of my husband's desk (or just not noticed how close it was to him) and hurt his head on it while trying to move beneath or around it. He's earned some nicknames based on how accident-prone he is. I came up with Tumbleweed (which also alludes to his being short, round and Texan ;) ). My mom proposed the variant Stumbleweed, which we've also used. And my husband came up with Bonky Bihari (after a famous and much-loved <i>murti </i>[form] of Krishna in Vrindavana named Banki Bihari). </div>
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Sometimes he'll hurt himself (just slightly) on purpose, though; he has a tendency once in awhile to repeatedly bonk his head on some hard surface. I haven't figured out the reason for that one yet! I often tell him, "Don't do that!" if I see him doing it, but this just makes him laugh and try to continue (which I will prevent him from doing by putting my hand between his head and the hard surface he's been hitting it on). Silly-willy!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mid-December 2018. One year old!! ^_^</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">In this picture you can see the scar over his eyebrow from an injury he got about one month prior, on November 16th. He fell and hit his head hard on the corner of the wooden frame around his brother's bed. Poor baby!!!! :( <3 <3</span></div>
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Looks-wise, my mom and I both think Rohan resembles my father (and me). Bhadra looked a lot like me as an infant, but as he grew into a toddler and then an older child, he looked less like me and more like his father, my ex-husband. (He still looks quite a bit like me as well; he's a good mix of both me and his dad.) Lalita, on the other hand, totally resembles her daddy (my present husband), and looks very different from her brothers (who look much more similar to each other, with the most noticeable difference between them from the very beginning being their noses). :)<br />
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One way Rohan is unique, though, is that he has CURLS!!!! (Soft, gentle ones, not tight or springy.) You can't really see them in any of the pictures I posted, but he's got 'em! I was blown away when his hair first grew out enough for us to discover this fact. I never dreamed that I would ever have a child with curly hair! Nobody in either my immediate family or my husband's has the slightest hint of any curls; everyone's hair is totally straight. My mom did say that one of her younger brothers had hair that was a bit wavy. As far as my husband's extended family is concerned, he couldn't be sure whether any of the ladies had curly hair or not, since the fashion was for them to artificially curl their hair. Anyway, wherever Ro-Ro's curls came from, they are <i>adorable.</i> We cannot get enough of them!!!! ^_^ <3 ^_^<br />
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10 more random tidbits about him:<br />
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1. He also has a slight cleft in his chin. Nobody else in my immediate family has that, either!<br />
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2. His skin is by far the most sensitive and prone to diaper rash out of all my kids. We've had to battle some really bad cases of that with him. And once, after I took him outside and let him play in the grass without a shirt on, he broke out in hives!!! :O<br />
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3. When his hair first started growing out, there was this one single hair on the crown of his head (in just the place for a <i>shikha! </i>:) ) that was super long. It was hilarious. It grew out to be about two inches long while the surrounding hair was only about half an inch long. I loved it. I can't find it now, though, so it must have gotten broken off at last. :( :)<br />
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4. He loves being sung to. Ever since he was a small baby, sometimes when we've sung to him, he's raised his little voice to sing sweetly along with us. He can't manage a real melody, of course, but he sounds entirely precious. <3<br />
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5. Another endearing personality trait of his is that he seems to have a natural humility, responding sometimes to our beaming love and approval at him by shyly looking down while smiling. <3 He used to do this more often when he was younger, though. He was really such a nice baby! Whereas I used to be impatient for Bhadra to reach toddlerhood (and learn to talk!), I enjoyed every stage of Lalita's development while peacefully looking forward to her next stage; but I relished Rohan's babyhood so much that for the first time, I actually felt the way I'd so often heard other moms speak of feeling about their children's babyhood. I felt he was so nice at that age that I'd be sorry to see him grow up! :)<br />
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6. He developed gross motor skills like crawling and walking later than Bhadra and Lalita had done, but developed super-fine motor skills prior to that -- very, <i>very</i> early on -- picking up the tiniest objects with just his thumb and forefinger. I was so impressed! :) He has been by far the most inclined toward using his hands out of my three kids. The other two in baby- and toddlerhood might try to reach for something with their hands, but if denied the opportunity and presented with the chance to experience the thing with some other part of their bodies (e.g. their mouths, if it was a bite of food), would be perfectly fine with that. Not Rohan. If not allowed to use his hands to hold and explore the object, he would often become disgusted and refuse to take it at all.<br />
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7. He used to make sounds that resembled Mama, Dad, and "nun-nun" (our family word for breastmilk), and we thought he might be working on speech, but he doesn't make those sounds as much anymore, so now I'm not sure. Also, one time his daddy was holding him and letting him flip the light switch on and off (something Rohan <i>loves</i>), teaching him the words "light" and "dark" as he did so, and it sounded very much like Rohan was trying to say the word "light" along with his daddy whenever he flipped the switch on. But, again, that was a while ago and he hasn't repeated it since. I'm not worried, though. Rohan is clearly smart and alert and learning every day, and definitely seems to understand some of the things we say to him, so I know he'll get around to speaking whenever he's ready, and that's good enough for me. I'm much less antsy for him to learn how to speak than I was for Bhadra and Lalita to. Maybe because with two older kids in the house, there's already plenty of talking going on, and I don't feel any need for the quantity of talk to increase! :) But also because, just like Lalita when she was preverbal, Rohan is quite good at communicating without words. I do pleasantly look forward to the time when he starts learning how to speak, though, since that's always such a fun time for me in a child's development. ^_^ As a side note, although it was only playful babble with no meaning to him, he went through a phase of saying "yeah" all the time. We would laugh so hard about how funny it sounded, especially when (as happened often enough) he would happen to pipe up with it at exactly the right moment so it sounded just like he was taking part in our conversation!!!! ^_^<br />
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8. I call him Muffin a lot, since he's short, round and sweet. Another name I've often called him is Pumpkin, both because of his short roundness and because he was born in autumn. :D Another P-name I call him is Puppy -- which is very well-earned, since he hilariously loves playing fetch just like a dog (not with sticks in particular, but anything we happen to throw, he'll often have fun going to find and bring back to us), and he also developed the habit of letting his tongue hang out of his mouth sometimes, for many seconds or even a few minutes at a time! Such a weird little goof! ^_^ He also has somewhat of an obsession with shoes. When he was younger, we used to catch him chewing on them. He doesn't often do that anymore, but he still picks them up and carries them around to other places in our apartment, so that we're at risk of having trouble finding our shoes when we need them. We have to hide them from him to prevent this from being a problem. :D On the other hand, when he wants to go outside, he will go get a pair of shoes and bring them to a grown-up as if to suggest, "Put these on and let's go out!" He usually brings a correctly matched pair that actually belongs to the grown-up in question, proving how smart he is. :D <3<br />
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9. I also call him Vaishnava dasa sometimes, because of a really cool experience I had while pregnant with him. I'll go into it more in my next post!<br />
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10. More than with either of his elder siblings, with Rohan I've always felt a hesitation to refer to him as mine (as in "my baby/child/son"), and I used to always correct myself immediately if I ever did so, verbalizing that he's not really mine, he's Krishna's, and Krishna is just blessing me by letting me take care of this child for Him. I don't correct myself on that out loud anymore, but I still often remember Krishna, remember that Rohan is Krishna's, and feel grateful for the privilege of taking care of him when I refer to him as "mine." <3Kamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-77773506383689549362019-03-26T17:09:00.000-07:002019-04-15T15:21:57.681-07:00Birth Story #3, Part 4: Naming Our NewbornAfter resting for a little while at the birth center, my husband and I gathered up our new baby and our stuff and bid good-bye to everyone. Sarah promised to come for several postpartum visits and help me out with household chores and watching my little girl in order to better earn the money we'd paid her, since she had missed the labor and birth. (She kept that promise, and was soooo helpful; I was really grateful. Sarah is wonderful!!!!) Then we bundled into our van and drove home. <br />
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As soon as we brought the baby inside, his older siblings, who were awake now, made a beeline for him and were enthralled and fascinated to check him out. My husband supervised and made sure they (especially our daughter, Lalita, who was just 19 months old going on 20 at the time) were gentle with the newborn. <br />
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The tradition we follow in our family with regard to naming our babies is that we wait until after they're born, then consult astrologer friends of ours to find out what's indicated in the babies' horoscopes regarding what syllables their names should start with, and then we search for names we like that start with those syllables. When my older son Bhadrasena was born, this process was much less stressful, because he was born at home and, except for the Medicaid caseworker who kept calling to see if I'd named him yet because she wanted to register him with Medicaid, nobody put pressure on us to pick out a name by any particular time. We took six weeks to choose his name, then invited a bunch of friends over for a home ceremony at which his name was finally announced, which took place when he was seven weeks old. But with my two younger children, since they weren't born at home but rather at a birth center, which legally had to file birth certificates for them within a certain number of days after they were born, the stress level was way higher. With Lalita, the time limit that we had in which to get back to them with a name for her was one week. I was expecting the same time limit for my third baby, but no! The policy had changed by then, and we had only <i>three days!</i> Ahhhh!!!! <br />
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Luckily, we have one astrologer friend who's super great about getting back to us promptly when we contact her in times like these. She quickly let us know that our third baby's name(s) should be connected with the star Swati (Arcturus), whose sounds are Ru (pronounced Roo), Re (Ray), Ro (Roe), and Ta (pronounced either Tah or Tuh). Although most Vedic astrologers just stick with the standard recommendation of naming the child according to which <i>nakshatra </i>(star or group of stars) the Moon is located in at the time of his or her birth, our friend is more open-minded and thorough in exploring all the options, and as it happened, based on her recommendations, we named my older son according to his Sun placement, my daughter according to her Moon placement, and my second son according to his Jupiter placement.<br />
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Each <i>nakshatra</i> that the planets can be located in (of which there are a total of 27, spanning the sky all the way around the Earth along the path that we call the zodiac) is divided into four equal sections, called <i>padas,</i> and each <i>pada</i> has its own syllable. Some astrologers are more particular that the child should be given a name starting with the syllable corresponding to the exact <i>pada</i> that a planet is located in, while others say there's no need to get so specific, and any of the four syllables connected with the <i>nakshatra</i> will do equally well. Our astrologer friend whom I mentioned belongs to the second school, and with my older two kids, we chose names that were connected with the indicated <i>nakshatras,</i> but not the specific <i>padas </i>where the planets were located. With my second son, though, we ended up deciding to get more specific and give him a name based on the actual <i>pada</i> that Jupiter was in at the moment of his birth, which was Ro. <br />
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There wasn't a plethora of "Ro" names to choose from (we give all our kids Sanskrit first names, so we were looking for a Sanskrit "Ro" name for him), but there were a few, and when we hit upon the name Rohan, my husband and I both loved it immediately. We're both fans of Tolkien, and the fact that Rohan is a name that appears in <i>The Lord of the Rings</i> was super cool to us; plus, it's not only a Sanskrit name, but also an (Anglicized) Gaelic name (I found out subsequently that the original Gaelic is <i>Ruadhan, </i>meaning redhead -- a meaning that doesn't apply to our son, but oh well; I'm still happy that there's a Gaelic version of his name, because my husband and I both have some Gaelic [Scotch/Irish] heritage and feel that that culture is really cool). Additionally, Rohan is apparently used as another version of the name Rowan in some parts of the world, meaning a tree in the rose family with reddish-orange berries, and I adore trees and love the rose family (and Tolkien's Ent character named Quickbeam <i>really</i> loves rowans, and Tolkien made up a lovely tragic song for Quickbeam to sing about his rowan-tree friends that got cut down by Orcs, so there's yet another Tolkien tie-in with this name!), so that's awesome as well. My husband and I loved that Rohan was not just a Sanskrit name, but was actually multicultural. As far as the Sanskrit meanings, though, my own understanding is that Rohan means "growth" or "growing," but in my husband's research he came across the meaning "ascending" (which I guess makes sense as a synonym -- growing [up] = rising = ascending), as well as "healing," which can also make sense as a synonym because new growth (of whatever -- skin on human / animal bodies, or greenery in forests) can cover, replace, and heal damaged areas. The Sanskrit word <i>roha</i> (clearly related), appearing in the <i>Shrimad-Bhagavatam</i> verse 10.63.26, is translated as "sprout."<br />
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So the name has many nice meanings. But of course, as Hare Krishnas, we want everything in our lives to be connected with Krishna. So how is the name Rohan connected with Krishna?<br />
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Well, I have a friend who tells me that it's actually a name of Lord Vishnu (an expansion of Lord Krishna). We didn't know that when we chose it as our son's name, though. What I <i>had</i> found out, through VedaBase (a database of Shrila Prabhupada's words and writings, plus those of some of his disciples and previous saints in our line), is that there is a holy place in Vraja (Lord Krishna's homeland) called Shakata Rohana. It's located in the Kumudavana forest. Here's what Shri Narahari Chakravarti wrote about it in his book <i>Bhakti-ratnakara:</i><br />
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“ 'See here Shrinivasa, the place called Shakata Rohana. It is a beautiful pleasant place and very dear to Krishna. Bumblebees are always humming in the forest of flowers. By bathing in this kunda [pond or pool] one will get supreme bliss.'<br />
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“Shakata Rohana is described in the <i>Adi-varaha Purana</i> thus: 'One half <i>yojana</i> [four miles] on the west side of Mathura is My supreme abode named Shakata Rohana. Many thousands of bumblebees live there. Whoever fasts for one night and then takes bath there is certain to attain the happiness of Vidyadharaloka.' ”<br />
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So the exact word Rohan (the "a" on the end of Shakata Rohana is a short a, which means pronouncing it at the end of a word is optional, which means Rohana and Rohan are exactly the same Sanskrit word) is present in the name of a holy place that is very dear to Krishna, even being described by Him as His supreme abode. There are plenty of Hare Krishna devotees who have been given the names of holy places, like Vrindavana, Vraja, Mathura, Mayapura, <i>et cetera,</i> so those are most definitely authorized holy names. To me, based on the above quote, the name Rohan can also be placed in this category. <br />
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However, what my husband and I decided to do, just to make absolutely sure we were giving our precious son a holy name of the Lord that he could give as his name while in the company of devotees (or anytime!), was to name our son Rohini-tanaya dasa -- "servant of Rohini's son," <i>i.e.,</i> Lord Balarama. Just as the word <i>mohini, </i>"enchantress," has as its masculine counterpart the word <i>mohan(a), </i>"enchanter," I thought the feminine name Rohini might have Rohan as its masculine counterpart. I know of a male devotee named Radhika-Ramana dasa ("servant of Radhika's lover," <i>i.e.,</i> Krishna) who goes by the nickname of Radhika (which is a feminine name), but to my husband and me, it felt weird to call our son, Rohini-tanaya dasa, "Rohini" for short. But we wanted the syllable Ro to be there on the beginning of his name, so changing "Rohini" to "Rohan" -- more appropriate for a boy -- seemed like a suitable way to shorten the name Rohini-tanaya to a more manageable length for practical, everyday use. <br />
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So in this way, we settled on Rohini-tanaya dasa as his "full first name" and Rohan as his nickname. For his middle name, thanks to my husband's inspiration to celebrate his Nordic heritage in the middle names of his children, we did the same thing we'd done with our daughter and chose a Nordic name. We selected Raeifr for our son, which means "friendly and happy" in Old Norse.<br />
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We barely got all the above figured out in time, but somehow or other, by Krishna's grace, we made it by the three-day deadline. <i>Phew!</i><br />
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And all of his names turned out to fit him very well! ^_^<br />
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<i>to be continued...</i>Kamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-53410493093004248712019-03-25T16:30:00.000-07:002019-03-26T08:39:38.637-07:00Birth Story #3, Part 3: The Actual Birth Story<i>OK, </i>I thought. <i>Could this be Braxton-Hicks? I doubt it. It's probably the real thing at this point. All right. We'll see what happens as far as how long the labor takes and when this baby will be born. It's in Krishna's hands. If He thinks a Wednesday birth would be better, he can delay it until then. Otherwise, I guess most likely this baby will be born tomorrow. A Tuesday baby. Well, I guess that's not so bad. After all, my horoscope says I will be the mother of heroes, so I guess it might just be inevitable destiny that I'll have babies with intense, powerful, strong personalities. And if this boy really does become heroic, that's cool. I can be happy and proud about that. I guess I can accept a Tuesday baby.</i><br />
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Sure enough, the contractions continued as the evening progressed. With my first two births, my contractions had not only been irregularly spaced but also remained fairly brief and gentle for a good long while, but in this case, my contractions very quickly got to the point where they were around a minute long, although the spacing was still irregular. I timed them and called my midwife and doula to inform them of what was happening. Both midwife and doula told me to keep on laboring at home for the time being, and call them again when the contractions started being more regular and close together. <br />
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Eventually, my mom, husband, and kids went to sleep. I went into my bathroom, keeping my husband's phone with me (mine was broken at that point) to time the contractions and to have it close at hand so I could call my midwife and doula when I needed to. The contractions started being harder to bear, but not too terrible. I breathed through them and kept my eyes on that clock on his phone, just waiting, waiting for the time to come when they would be a regular five minutes apart or less so that I could call my doula and tell her to come on out. <br />
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When that time finally arrived, which wasn't until about 4 a.m., it was (unsurprisingly) hard to speak. But I called my doula, who lived about 45 minutes away, and told her I was ready for her to go ahead and drive down. She asked whether she should drive to my home or to the birth center (which was only 8 minutes from my home). I told her I was at home for the time being, but if we decided to go to the birth center, I would call her back and let her know so that she could go there instead. She said OK and hopped into her car to start driving. <br />
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Then I called my midwife to update her. Kathy (the midwife) aims to orchestrate things so that birthing moms do make it to the birth center in time to have their babies there, but don't get there many hours in advance -- and in order to achieve this, she seems to me to pretty much always err on the side of telling moms to go on laboring at home and wait a bit longer before going to the birth center. So it was not a big surprise when that's what she said to me when I called her with contractions I couldn't speak through that were at least one minute long and five minutes or less apart. (Do I sound like I'm rolling my eyes? Hmm, I wonder why!)<br />
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Anyway, I accepted her advice, got off the phone and breathed through another contraction or two -- but then I felt it. The urge to push! Oh, no! I was about to have this baby!!! Quickly, I woke up my husband and mom and let them know that I needed to get to the birth center, <i>now! </i>We had planned on all of us going there together, including the kids... but the kids were sleeping now, and waking them up and herding them out to the car would take too long given the urgency of the situation. So we decided that my husband would stay home with them while my mom took me to the birth center. <br />
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As we walked out to the van, I called Kathy to let her know that I was entering the pushing stage and that we were on our way to the birth center, and then called Sarah (my doula) to tell her to head there as well. I felt the need to push again after climbing into the front passenger seat of the van. I couldn't sit down normally. I knelt backward on the seat, holding on to the headrest. It was an uncomfortable ride. I was glad the drive was short and the early-morning streets were empty of traffic. <br />
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As soon as we pulled up beside the building that housed the birth center, I had the urge to push again. With that push, my water broke, leaving a mess on the seat.<br />
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I climbed out of the van and crouched on all fours in the parking lot. Kathy arrived and urged me to my feet, telling me I had to get up and make my way into the building, to the elevator, and up to the birth center, which was located on the top (4th) floor. It was difficult, but I complied. I had to push twice more on the way up there, and then, while walking down the hall toward the room that Kathy had designated for me to give birth in, I needed to stop and push again -- and this time, I felt the burning, stretching sensation that meant the baby was crowning. I gasped to my mom and Kathy, "I think he's coming out!" My mom, who was closest to me (Kathy was slightly ahead of us) got down to take a look, and confirmed with excitement, "Yes! I can see his head!"<br />
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Kathy quickly joined us, and in no time, with another couple of pushes, he was out! Right there in the hallway! (It was 4:34 a.m.) We congratulated ourselves afterward on our good luck that the birth had taken place on the tile floor rather than the bed, because it meant easier clean-up of the bloody mess! LOL!<br />
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But the mess wasn't entirely over and done with, of course, and (if I remember things correctly) Kathy wanted us to be comfortable for the next part, so she spread absorbent pads with waterproof backing on the bed in my designated room, and she and my mom helped me and the baby get in there and lie down. Kathy immediately started encouraging me to nurse him. She was really pushy about it! I nursed him as best I could; he was a bit fussy and wanted to drink, but seemed to have some difficulty with it. (I discovered later, when we visited my older brother who is a pediatrician, that my baby has a tongue-tie; no wonder he had to struggle to figure out how to get the liquid to come out!) A little while longer and the placenta came out. I had some afterpains with this birth -- the first time I had experienced them. Sarah arrived, surprised and sorry to have missed the birth, but eager to be helpful in any way she could (which she certainly succeeded at, assisting me in many small ways, and just giving me the gentle comfort of her sweet, pleasant company).<br />
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My husband was called, and since the kids were still asleep, my mom went home to stay with them so that my honey could come over and meet his new baby son, bringing with him some necessities that my mom and I had left behind in our earlier rush. My husband was disappointed about having missed his son's birth, but ultimately said that the way things had happened was probably for the best, as he thought he might not have been able to handle the events as well as my mom had. <br />
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Eventually the baby got his tummy full and went to sleep, and I was able to get up, take a bath, change into clean clothes, and have some breakfast. My wonderful friend Joanna came to meet the baby and hang out for a bit, and I was very glad to have her there. I took care of filling out the requisite forms, and after letting the baby rest for a while, one of the assistants at the birth center bathed, measured and weighed him. He weighed 10 lbs., 1 oz. His sister had weighed 10 lbs. exactly, so we made sure to make a big deal over how he had beaten her by one ounce. ;) <br />
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It had been, for sure, my easiest birthing experience. The contractions, while strong enough to mean business almost from the very beginning, had never gotten so unbearably painful as to break me down emotionally, like they had done during my daughter's birth. The sustained length and strength of the contractions had meant a far shorter labor than I'd had during earlier births: only 9 hours! My family and I were amazed by how quick it had been!! (Only because of my history of super long labors. 9 hours is really just a little on the short side of average! ^_^ ) And the pushing stage had been much less painful than with my first birth. All in all, the whole thing had been very bearable. And because according to the Vedic system, the day of the week doesn't change until sunrise, by that manner of calculating, I had -- miraculously enough -- actually gotten the Monday baby I'd been yearning for!!!!!!!<br />
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<i>to be continued...</i>Kamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-22142294659973991152019-03-22T12:05:00.001-07:002019-04-10T02:05:35.403-07:00Birth Story #3, Part 2: Astrology<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I wrote in my "Introduction" post on this blog about some of my experiences growing up in a Hare Krishna devotee family, there were of course plenty of things I didn't mention. One of them was astrology.</div>
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Astrology, or the science of examining the configuration that the planets and stars are in at any given moment and reading/interpreting what their effect will be on the people and events operating here on Earth under their influence, is one of the branches of Vedic (ancient Indian scriptural) knowledge, and part of Lord Krishna's culture. As stated in the <i>Shrimad-Bhagavatam, </i>Canto 10, Chapter 8, Verse 5 (in which Lord Krishna's father, Nanda Maharaja, is speaking to the sage Gargamuni):<br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">jyotisham</span> ayanam sakshad</i></div>
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<i>yat taj jñanam atindriyam</i></div>
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<i>pranitam bhavata yena</i></div>
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<i>puman veda paravaram</i></div>
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SYNONYMS</div>
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<i>jyotisham</i>—knowledge of astrology (along with other aspects of culture in human society, and specifically in civilized society, there must be knowledge of astrology); <i>ayanam</i>—the movements of the stars and planets in relationship to human society; <i>sakshat</i>—directly; <i>yat tat jñanam</i>—such knowledge; <i>ati-indriyam</i>—which an ordinary person cannot understand because it is beyond his vision; <i>pranitam bhavata</i>—you have prepared a perfect book of knowledge; <i>yena</i>—by which; <i>puman</i>—any person; <i>veda</i>—can understand; <i>para-avaram</i>—the cause and effect of destiny.<br />
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TRANSLATION</div>
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O great saintly person, you have compiled the astrological knowledge by which one can understand past and present unseen things. By the strength of this knowledge, any human being can understand what he has done in his past life and how it affects his present life. This is known to you.<br />
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Last paragraph of the purport</div>
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(by His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada):</div>
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Nanda Maharaja was trying to take advantage of the opportunity afforded by Gargamuni's presence, for Gargamuni was a great authority in this knowledge of astrology, by which one can see the unseen events of past, present and future. It is the duty of a father to understand the astrological position of his children and do what is needed for their happiness. Now, taking advantage of the opportunity afforded by the presence of Gargamuni, Nanda Maharaja suggested that Gargamuni prepare a horoscope for Nanda's two sons, Krishna and Balarama.<br />
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The line in which Shrila Prabhupada says "It is the duty of a father to understand the astrological position of his children and do what is needed for their happiness" apparently made an impression on my father, because I heard him quote that line several times during my childhood. Immediately after my birth and that of my younger brother, my father had Nalini Kanta Prabhu, a Godbrother (fellow disciple of the same <i>guru</i>) and friend of his who had studied this Vedic astrological science, prepare detailed horoscopes for us. These horoscopes each filled many pages (mine, which I still have, is 24 one-sided 8x11 sheets, plus a beautiful cover and a couple of introductory/explanatory pages). Nalini Kanta Prabhu had also done similar horoscopes for my father and mother. Every so often throughout our lives, my parents would pull out our horoscopes and reread them, and together as a family -- snuggled up in a happy bunch on my parents' bed, or sitting around the kitchen table with lively conversation and my mom's delicious cooking to anticipate (or digest) -- we would enjoy discovering things in them that had proven true or newly become applicable since the last time we had read them. They were always fresh and exciting to revisit -- a rich mine of descriptions of our physical appearances, tastes and personalities and predictions for every stage of our lives up to death, with a sprinkling of advice, tailored for each one of us. Our family consensus was that they were incredibly accurate. Beyond engendering family fun and togetherness, my own horoscope was considered crucially important when it came time for me to get married, as comparing the horoscopes of the prospective bride and groom and checking for compatibility between them (with the help and advice of an expert astrologer) is a vital part of the process of spouse selection in our culture. <br />
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So I'm sure you can imagine that astrology is very interesting and important to me. My favorite component of it is definitely the analysis and description of personality traits. Predictions are cool too (and can certainly be useful), but meh...! Compared to understanding people -- how they feel, what contributes to their sense of identity, and what drives them to act the way they do -- I hardly care about what the future may hold. <br />
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I have a curious mind and love learning about things that interest me, so although making a formal study of astrology has never been a priority for me and I am thus a complete amateur, I have picked up a few small bits of information connected with it that have gotten incorporated into my awareness of the world and how I live my life. One such piece of information concerns the demigods that preside over the different days of the week. Suryadeva, the sun-god, rules Sunday; Chandradeva, the moon-god, rules Monday; Mangaladeva, lord of Mars, rules Tuesday; Budha (Mercury) rules Wednesday; Brihaspati (Jupiter) rules Thursday; Shukra (Venus) rules Friday, and Shani (Saturn) rules Saturday. Each of these planetary lords has his own qualities, which color whatever happens under his influence. Of course there are other factors involved which affect the ultimate outcome, but the question of whose day it is does constitute at least a small part of the picture. In India, my understanding is that people in general try to be careful never to schedule any big, important events on days ruled by inauspicious (malefic or harmful) planets. <br />
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My understanding is that Mars, with his angry, warlike nature, and Saturn, with his tendency to make everything painfully slow and difficult by placing obstacles in our paths so we must work very hard to achieve anything, are considered the most inauspicious planets. The Moon and Venus (the most feminine planets) are generally soft, gentle and kind in their effects on us, and are viewed as the most auspicious or benefic planets for many purposes. The impressions I have of them based on what I've heard and read are that the Moon is domestic, maternal, caring, emotional, sentimental and sensitive; Venus is sensual, indulgent, pleasant, easy-going (sometimes to the point of being lazy), decadent, opulent, seductive and fun-loving. Jupiter is also super auspicious, representing righteous religiosity, rich abundance and generous giving. Mercury has a restless, mobile, quick-witted, intelligent and verbally articulate nature, which is very good for travel and communication, but there are situations in which Mercury's influence might not be the most ideal, so Mercury could be considered sort of middle-of-the-road in terms of general auspiciousness. The Sun is noble, great and glorious, but also capable of burning people with the intensity of his fire, so I might say, perhaps, that he might lean a little toward the inauspicious side of the spectrum as a result of that. <br />
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One very significant life event that often remains out of our control as to which day it happens on is, of course, birth. As with any other major event, which day it takes place on will indicate much about the way things are going to unfold from that point forward for everyone involved. Not surprisingly, the person affected the most is the one who is born that day; the planets will influence the development of his or her personality and orchestrate the lifelong playing out of his or her destiny (as determined by <i>karma</i> from his or her previous life). Again, which day of the week a person is born on is only one part of the picture; but still, I felt like I had noticed a strong pattern wherein the personalities of people I knew tended often to reflect the weekday they were born on. I was born on a Friday, and I definitely feel that I have more Venus in my nature than anything else, although I don't relate 100% with <i>all</i> those Venusian attributes that I mentioned above (to be specific, sensuality, decadence and opulence, while present, are tempered in my nature by the effects of other planets that influence me to be more mental/intellectual than physical, and to be religious and moral.) My brothers were both born on Saturdays, and sure enough, both have personalities dominated by Saturn (aside from being hard-working and having to undergo a lot of struggles and suffering in life, this also means that they are loyal and true. <3 ^_^ ) My dad was born on a Tuesday, and yep, you'd better believe that he's a warrior with an explosive temper. ;) My mom was born on a Wednesday, and although I don't think Mercury rules her personality more than any other planet, she does have quite a bit of Mercury in her nature. My ex-husband, also born on a Wednesday, is definitely ruled by Mercury more than anything else. My current husband was born on a Thursday, and although I don't think Jupiter dominates his nature above all, he's definitely a righteous man with a love of religiosity and frequently an abundantly generous, giving nature. <br />
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So you can probably understand why I felt quite interested in and concerned about which day of the week my child would end up being born on. While ultimately I was surrendered to whatever arrangement the Lord might make, I had by this point in my life undergone plenty of suffering, a good part of which was due to living with intense, dramatic, and chaotic people, and honestly I did not feel ready for more of the same. I really, really wanted this baby to be different -- to be easy to live with! I thought: <i>Monday, ruled by the moon, is a sweet, gentle and auspicious day, but what are the odds of this baby being born today? I'm sure it's not going to happen! My labor with my first baby was 50 hours, and with my second baby it was 36. I do expect that my labor could very likely get shorter with each birth, because that's the pattern my mom followed with her births, but how short can I expect this labor to be when the first two were so very long?! It'll probably end up being somewhere around 24 hours long. So if it starts tonight, this baby will be born tomorrow -- on a Tuesday -- and be a heroic warrior type with anger issues. Or if my labor starts tomorrow, then this baby will probably be born on Wednesday -- in which case he may be a persnickety stickler for perfectionism like my ex-husband. I think we've already got a generous share of both of those personality types in our family. I don't look forward to having another family member that fits either of those descriptions. Why did Kathy have to put me in this position by poking around in my cervix, without telling me ahead of time that it might stimulate labor?!</i><br />
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I felt a bit outraged and disgusted that Kathy had asked my permission to perform that exam on me, without letting me know what the consequences of it might be. What happened to informed consent?! My mind was tossing in an ocean of agitation and bewilderment as I made dinner and took care of my family. And then, as I stood in the kitchen at about 7:30 that evening...<br />
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... I felt the first gentle cramp in my abdomen.<br />
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<i>to be continued...</i></div>
Kamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-28697374911109828402019-02-16T17:46:00.001-08:002019-03-22T12:07:51.208-07:00Birth Story #3, Part 1: The Looming Threat of InductionMy first two babies had followed exactly the same pattern with regard to their gestation and birth: both of them were born on the 11th day after my due date. I was expecting my third little one to do the same, but he surprised me by hanging on until the 16th day after the due date. Kathy, my CNM (Certified Nurse-Midwife), who runs the birth center where I'd given birth to my baby girl and planned to give birth to this third baby of mine as well, was legally supposed to refer me to a hospital for induction as soon as I passed 42 weeks (i.e., two weeks beyond my due date). She knew I didn't want that, so instead, she began taking action to help me give birth as soon as possible at the birth center. She gave me an exam that included poking her finger into my cervix (ouch!), and told me afterward that her doing that might get things moving along. If not, she said, I would have to come back in two days to get induced at the birth center. She said the drug they would use for the induction would be gentler than Pitocin. I can't recall what she said about it for certain, but it may have been that rather than itself being an artificial oxytocin, it would instead stimulate my body to produce its own oxytocin and thus trigger labor in a way that more closely mimicked nature.<br />
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While I did have some appreciation for that, it didn't really make any difference to my feelings about the idea of being induced, which were very negative. On the way home from my appointment at the birth center that day (Monday, November 27th, 2017), I wrestled internally with what to do. I have always had an extremely strong conviction that God and Mother Nature know best and that modern doctors tend to meddle way too much with the birth process. I had read stories where the due date being used had turned out to be wrong, and induced labor had led to the birth of babies who were not really ready to be born yet. I had recently read that different women's bodies behave differently from each other in regard to how quickly their embryos begin developing at the outset of their pregnancies; in some women that process takes longer to get started, and so their late-blooming babies need more time in the womb to reach the same stage of development as other women's babies. True, the chance of stillbirth does increase in a post-term pregnancy -- but only slightly: oh, so slightly!! The vast majority of post-term babies are born perfectly healthy. I felt very strongly that allowing Mother Nature to decide when my baby was ready to be born, and letting him stay in my womb until that time arrived, was a very, VERY safe and OK risk to take, and I did not want to do things any other way. Being forced to accept an induction against my wishes felt so outrageous to me, and I resented and hated it so much, that I agonized over what to do if, in fact, I did not go into labor within the next two days. Should I even keep the appointment that Kathy had had me make, to go have a procedure done that I did not want or agree with? Or should I be rebellious and just stay home and let my baby come when he was ready, like I wanted to do? It might be illegal for Kathy to not comply with the requirement that I be induced, but it wasn't illegal for me to fail to show up at my appointment, or to give birth at home without medical assistance, was it?! I didn't <i>want</i> to give birth at home without medical assistance -- I <i>wanted</i> to give birth at the birth center!! -- but the idea of forced induction made me feel so disturbed that I practically felt driven to such drastic measures.<br />
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<i>Or,</i> I thought, <i>I could do my research and figure out which of the hospitals around here is the most natural-birth-friendly, and then I could show up there and check myself in to give birth once labor was in progress. I've got Medicaid coverage; I should be covered for a hospital birth. And they wouldn't turn me away, surely. Maybe that would be the best course of action. My first hospital birth! Is that what's going to happen?!? </i><br />
<i><br /></i>I still felt that sticking with the plan we had already been set on, of giving birth at the birth center, would be the simplest, easiest and smoothest option, with the least possibility of chaos, conflict and upheaval. I found myself hoping that my labor <i>would</i> start within the next couple days, just so that that conflict could be avoided. But there was another issue I was agonizing over.<br />
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<i>to be continued...</i>Kamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-56275323014534069832017-04-29T15:57:00.000-07:002017-04-29T15:57:49.897-07:00She's a Fire LilyThis post may seem a little redundant, as I've already written about my baby girl earlier this month in honor of her birthday. However, this is what's on my mind today, so here goes...<br />
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When I was about 11 or 12 years old, I started dreaming up my future family. I compiled a list of my favorite names for both girls and boys (although there were a lot more girls' names than boys' there, haha!!), and created a child in my imagination to give each name to. My eldest was to be a girl named Lalita (a Sanskrit name meaning "attractive; beautiful; charming; delicate"). I thought this was the loveliest name. However, just in case she ended up wanting another name to use that was more conventional in the West, I also gave her the name Lily -- another one I thought was just beautiful. <br />
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To me the letter L evokes still waters. Pure wells, placid lakes, deep reservoirs, forest pools. Softness, soothing calm, gentleness, maturity and depth. The mental image that the letter L has most particularly always called up for me is that of a small but beautiful pool, sheltered from prying eyes in the stillness of a deep green wood, and filled with the opulent loveliness of lotuses and water-lilies. Especially white and blue ones: peaceful and serene colors to match the peace and serenity of the whole scene. Since I'm a lover of peace, it's no wonder that I've always loved the letter L when this is what it represents to me. <br />
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Now that I actually have a little girl named Lalita, though, she has proven to be quite different from the eldest daughter I imagined for myself so many years ago. I pictured a girl whose presence in our home would be as calm and soothing as the sound of the letter L is to my ear. When I decided on the additional name of Lily for her -- it was water-lilies I was thinking of. The famous and popular garden lilies that grace the pages of bulb catalogues in a multitude of colors did not even enter my mind. <br />
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However, I now find that, instead of a Water Lily, my little girl is a "Fire Lily"! If her psyche could be seen, it might not look too different from this!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfMXLuAZHLheaHdm9oME1K67f9jiWLpU1Zof3puWm_2rgWzL1yylUDw6wgnxtzf29YhVEOIuDcRVcU8hWM0ZYb9-rPEZON4DIe1hZzBo-ALneG6oke6Gyt0JLB14VCK_33aDa_1r-Lg81/s1600/Tiger+Lily.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfMXLuAZHLheaHdm9oME1K67f9jiWLpU1Zof3puWm_2rgWzL1yylUDw6wgnxtzf29YhVEOIuDcRVcU8hWM0ZYb9-rPEZON4DIe1hZzBo-ALneG6oke6Gyt0JLB14VCK_33aDa_1r-Lg81/s400/Tiger+Lily.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
(photo credit: Thomas Good / NLN)<br />
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A flaming-sunset-colored vision of beauty. BOLD and STRONG! Filled with energy and absolutely determined to get her way! And yet also endowed with so much feminine mystique, charm and allure. <br />
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She's not what I bargained for -- she's way too much for me to handle sometimes -- but is she ever special and lovely in her own way! Even when she drives me bonkers, I can't deny what a great blessing this little Fire Lily is to our family. <br />
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Thank You, Lord, for all the blessings You send, including the trials. Please go on refining my spirit in fire if need be so that I may someday become pure enough to be of service to You. All glory be unto You!!!Kamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-71070492486147468312017-04-14T11:08:00.002-07:002017-04-14T11:13:29.223-07:00Explanation of this blog's titleI called this blog "my t(ruth)" because, of course, I wanted to share my truth with the world through it -- in all frankness -- holding nothing back. However, I put "ruth" in parentheses because at the very heart of my truth (and also, I would argue, of the Absolute Truth; as they say, God is Love!!) is the concept of ruth, which Merriam-Webster defines <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/ruth">thus</a>. (Scroll down and expand the Synonyms section so you can read all those beautiful, beautiful synonyms and related words, too!!!! :D :D :D ) Really, there couldn't be a better word to encapsulate what defines me at my core and flavors my whole being. (Especially because that second definition of "sorrow for one's own faults" is included as well!! Oh, how perfectly that summarizes pretty much my entire adult life!!! D: )<br />
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I also liked the fact that the portion of the blog title that precedes the word "ruth" is "my t" -- which I mentally translated into "mighty" -- signifying that love conquers all! Drops of water (the most nurturing and life-giving of elements) wear away stone! The warm Sun in Aesop's <a href="https://www.storyarts.org/library/aesops/stories/north.html">fable</a> defeats the blustery Wind in their test of strength! HURRAY!!!! :D :D :D :DKamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-76112971812332371222017-04-08T21:17:00.000-07:002017-04-08T21:17:35.971-07:00Playing Favorites; or, My Baby GirlToday was my baby girl's birthday.<br />
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I spoke of her as being one year old in my last post because she nearly was. But actually, today was the day she turned one. <br />
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She is beautiful. She is precious. She is adored and cherished and celebrated.<br />
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She is my husband's firstborn, and she has a lot in common with him in both looks and personality. Since she's also terribly cute, charming and precocious, it's only to be expected that she's got her daddy wrapped around her little finger. <br />
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As for me -- after she was born, I felt the natural bond of connection with and love for her that I unfortunately did not enjoy with my sweet, precious, vulnerable son. <br />
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I was 25 years old when my son was born -- a perfectly reasonable and appropriate age to give birth to one's first baby, I would say. But I still had so many unfulfilled dreams that I was trying to work on fulfilling. I honestly wasn't ready for a baby. I thought I was ready enough, because I thought I would have enough time during my pregnancy with him to get the research project I was working on completed by the time he arrived, but that was not to be. The physical misery of pregnancy took me completely by surprise. I had imagined that pregnancy would be a wonderful thing to go through. Instead, I discovered that I was one of those lucky women for whom the morning sickness phase never goes away. I was sick to my stomach and throwing up food right up to the day I gave birth to him. I was suffering so much that there was no question of being able to work on my research. I couldn't even keep up with emptying my throw-up containers, what to speak of keeping the rest of the house clean -- and since my ex-husband was a neat freak, this traumatized him so much that it resulted in our having to separate. We had marriage counseling visits to go to -- and of course I had a whole bunch of new, baby-related stuff to research and make decisions about. My personal dreams and projects had to go on the back burner. <br />
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So yeah... I was not really ready for motherhood. Luckily, we lived close to my mom. She and I hung out at each other's houses a lot, and she helped so much in taking care of my son -- as well as of me! I often felt as if my son was really my little brother. He was a burden for me -- of duty more than of love. I didn't feel like he and I had much in common. I was an introvert, he was an extrovert. I wanted time alone, he wanted to be social. I had low energy; he had endless energy. I was intellectual; he was physical. Internally and often externally, I was always pushing him away. Poor baby. Clinginess and insecurity seemed like part of his nature, but I'm sure I exacerbated those traits in him by my behavior. But I couldn't help it. I did the best I could (in general), given the nature I had and the situation I was in. I wasn't the best mom, but I wasn't the worst either. I did things I regret (like exploding at him for getting pee and poop on the floor when he was a mere infant -- which of course terrified him to tears -- although it was obviously my own fault for failing to diaper him properly), but I also made countless sacrifices. I played the part of his mom as well as I could, and for the most part I didn't do too badly. But I never FELT like his mom until years later. My feelings throughout his babyhood and toddlerhood were more like those of a big sister or a baby-sitter. <br />
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But with my daughter, I was ready. My mood had evolved into the selflessly loving and giving motherly instinct before she was even conceived. Becoming pregnant with her satisfied a deep longing in me. I wanted a baby so much right then. While I had never found it easy to understand my son when he was preverbal, and I was incredibly antsy for him to learn how to speak -- with my daughter, it's been effortless. She was and is so communicative that words have been unnecessary. I just <i>get</i> her. Even when she was a tiny baby, I always seemed to know what she was feeling and what she needed without any trouble at all. Our connection has been strong and deep from the beginning. Despite how different she and I are from each other, it always seemed like we were on the same wavelength, speaking the same emotional language.<br />
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Although she takes after her father in many ways, he and I have a lot in common, which means my daughter and I do too. She is clearly very much in touch with her emotions and good at expressing them. She obviously enjoys making sounds with her mouth and voice, and I foresee her talking nonstop as soon as she learns how. She is smart as a whip, endlessly and insatiably curious about the world and voraciously bent on learning about it as much as she can. She is extremely independent and when told "no," will look you straight in the eye and deliberately disobey you. Relationships are frequently treated as lower in priority for her as compared to her passion for learning. However, that relationship-oriented side is very much present in her as well. She knows she's loved, and she eats it up. She loves being the center of attention and adoration. When she's in the mood, she's a precious little cuddle-bug, and in fact she often displays a vulnerable, clingy and needy side. With that combination of traits, I'm guessing she'll not only find schoolwork easy and fun, but will really enjoy the positive attention she'll garner by doing well, and will thus be motivated to excel academically. <br />
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She's been so much better than my son at remaining in good spirits no matter what life throws at her. She does ride on high/low emotional roller-coasters way more than I ever did as a child, but at the same time, she has appeared in general to exhibit a cheerful, optimistic spirit. She's physically surprisingly tough, letting minor injuries roll off her, whereas my son cries hysterically and ear-splittingly when the slightest thing happens to him. Emotionally as well, any kind of difficulty or setback in what he's trying to do has stumped and discouraged my son, whereas my daughter has let nothing steal the wind from her sails. Either she has kept trying until she gets what she's after, or she has easily let it go and shifted her attention to something else instead. This trait in her of generally not letting anything get her down has been so pleasing to me after years of seeing my son make mountains out of molehills. <br />
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The marked difference in my feelings toward and relationship with each of my children has been a source of anxiety for me, not surprisingly. When I was growing up, I never felt that my mother played favorites, but my father clearly did. He and my older brother (who's actually a half-brother on my mom's side -- so, my dad's stepson) never saw eye to eye or had a good relationship. My younger brother, too, took more after Mom in many ways, and he and Dad had lots of difficulties in their relationship. I, on the other hand, had exactly the sort of nature that my dad really clicked with, so I was his sweetheart, always adored and praised by him and never, ever yelled at, even though he had an explosive temper that my mom and brothers all bore the brunt of time and time again throughout the years. <br /><br />I love my brothers, and it always gave me pain to see my dad prefer me over them so obviously. He always admitted honestly that it was hard to love a stepson as much as your own flesh and blood, and I suppose that's understandable, although sad. But he always claimed to love me and my younger brother equally, but to find my younger brother a more difficult child to raise. I'm sure he was being honest in saying that, as well. But however he FELT, the truth was that his method of raising my younger brother was less helpful and more harmful compared with his method of raising me. Or at least that's how I've always perceived it. I believe he did the best he could -- the best he knew how. But the rest of us felt like I was the most loved and favored one in the family. And that made me sad.<br />
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I never wanted to repeat that dynamic with my own kids, so I have striven to treat them equally. But when one of them is a constant strain on your tolerance while the other is a genuine pleasure to be around, how can you avoid letting any evidence of that ever slip through the cracks in your self-control? The year my daughter was born was the hardest year we've ever had with my son. <br />
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Fortunately, since he turned seven, things have been much easier with him. Also, things have gotten more difficult for me with my daughter. Her constant demands and melodramatic reactions if they aren't met have really started driving me bonkers. That, plus her ceaseless incidents of hurting me and turning the house upside down have all begun to act like corrosive acid on my tolerance levels, causing me to flinch away from her sometimes. The other day, she was fussing so much that it was completely beyond my ability to handle. I felt like she was a natural disaster, and I just had to cover my ears, hunker down and wait for her to blow over. <br />
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There's nothing mild about her -- I've said it from the beginning. I'm a pretty mild person -- like oatmeal, as I told my husband. My daughter, on the other hand, is like chutney -- which traditionally is supposed to be too spicy to endure, but too sweet to resist. Sugar and spice -- that's my girl. Can't live with her, can't live without her. <br />
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All I need is a little break sometimes. It just takes a brief respite from her too-muchness; then I'm refreshed and ready to shower on her all the love she deserves once again. What wouldn't I give for a live-in grandma or regular baby-sitter!!!!<br />
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Let's hope I can get through her toddler years with my sanity intact. I have a feeling it'll be a wild ride -- especially with a new baby coming. I'm scared. But I'll hold on and do my best. <br />
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I have a feeling the woman she'll turn out to be will be a comfort and help to me as well as my pride and joy. <br />
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But oh, those days seem so far off right now.Kamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6720196474997732738.post-5657132643198834072017-03-28T12:15:00.000-07:002019-04-09T14:14:49.553-07:00IntroductionHI, WORLD!!! I love you!!!<br />
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Please accept my reverent and joyful respect!<br />
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Thanks so much for being you, and for honoring me by reading my words! ^_^<br />
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I am looking forward to getting to know you, if you choose to stick around! <3<br />
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Here's a little about me...<br />
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I'm currently 32 1/2 years old, happily married with two kids (a seven-year-old son -- who's actually from my first marriage, which ended in divorce -- and a one-year-old daughter) and another baby on the way, due in November. <br />
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I was born and raised in California, in an ISKCON family. ISKCON stands for "International Society for Krishna Consciousness." It's a worldwide organization that was started by A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami, whom we refer to as "Shrila Prabhupada," in 1966. If you'd like to read more about it, <a href="http://www.iskcon.org/what-is-iskcon/">here</a> is a brief explanation on the organization's official website. They need to update their page, as they speak there of ISKCON being "less than fifty years on the global stage" although our 50th anniversary just took place, but it is still a good summary description of our movement, which is commonly known as the Hare Krishna movement. :)<br />
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The word that we ISKCON members generally used to refer to ourselves and each other (as distinct from non-members) was "devotees." (Non-members were called "karmis.")<br />
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I loved growing up in a devotee family. My mom and I used to watch Hindi movies (with English subtitles) about Lord Rama and Krishna (i.e., different forms of the one Supreme Lord) together since before I even learned to speak. My favorite movie was "Sita Swayamvar" (a title now often sold as "Sita's Wedding"). God, I loved that movie -- and still do. It is so exquisite.<br />
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I also loved our books. Shrila Prabhupada translated our volumes and volumes of scriptures from Sanskrit and Bengali into English, and different disciples of his had transcribed and edited them, painted many, many pictures to illustrate them, and formed a publishing house called the Bhaktivedanta Book Trust for publishing them. My family had them all. They filled a glass-doored bookcase in our living room, and I used to love opening that bookcase, taking out different holy books (the many volumes of the <i>Shrimad-Bhagavatam</i> were my favorite!!), carrying them over to the couch and sitting down to immerse myself in the wonderful pictures. I was so entranced by all those intriguing and beautiful depictions of the Lord's pastimes in His many incarnations, and by the stories that went with them. <br />
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From the time I could first hold pens, pencils and crayons, I was making my own pictures and writing my own thoughts about Sita, Rama and Lakshmana, or Krishna and His devotees. The Lord and His pastimes filled my mind, and although I have since become distracted by many other things, He still owns my heart. <br />
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All my life I have known that my calling was to write (as well as to draw pictures). I could never relate to people who didn't know what they wanted to be when they grew up. For me there was never any doubt that I wanted to be an author and illustrator of books. Books were my favorite thing. Creative writing was my favorite school subject, but I also loved spelling (which came easily to me because of all the reading I did plus my sharp eye for detail and great memory), and I enjoyed doing book reports so much that I would sometimes do extra ones for fun, beyond what I had to do for school. Each year when I got my new reading textbook full of short stories, I would devour the whole thing right away. The library was always a favorite place to go, and later in my childhood and teens, I didn't consider my birthday celebration complete without a trip to the bookstore as part of the fun. <br />
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Other Hare Krishna children, including my own older brother, had gone through the experience of being placed in boarding schools called "gurukulas," both within the U.S. and abroad, for their schooling. Their parents believed they were doing the best thing for their children by placing them there, but to everyone's utter horror, the truth eventually emerged that many, many of these children had undergone unspeakable abuses of every description at those schools. My brother also had endured this abuse. After thus losing trust in the gurukulas, my parents decided to keep me and my younger brother at home. I was homeschooled all the way up until I graduated with a G.E.D. at the age of 16 after deciding I was tired of having other people tell me what I needed to study. I was bursting with ideas of my own as to what I wanted to learn, and I felt that the standard curriculum was simply wasting my precious time. <br />
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Growing up with creative, energetic, fun-loving, accomplished, positive and goal-oriented parents who always encouraged and believed in me, I thought I could do anything I wanted. Anything I set my mind to and had the intelligence, creativity, patience and diligence to achieve, I believed would be mine; it was only a matter of time. Where there's a will, there's a way, right? And I had so much creativity, passion, diligence, patience and determination. So I dreamed big and fully expected to see my dreams come true someday. <br />
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I wanted to help save the world. I was especially moved by the plight of helpless creatures unable to speak for themselves, like animals, insects and trees. The fact that all other species on earth were viewed by most people as much less important than humans and basically existing for the benefit of humans struck me as horrifyingly, disgustingly self-centered and outrageously unfair on the part of mankind. I wanted to save all the poor, downtrodden, underdog species from cruel treatment at the hands of unenlightened humans. I had grown up vegetarian as part of being a Hare Krishna, and I desperately wanted to see the whole world adopt vegetarianism and nonviolence. I wanted to use my writing to help open people's minds and hearts to the feelings and rights of others. <br />
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I also wanted to write fantasy stories and novels that would be enjoyable, and perhaps engage in other fun, creative pursuits like role-playing games, cosplay and informal drama with like-minded friends. I loved other crafts besides just writing and drawing, and I was very much drawn to the fashions and lifestyles of bygone eras, so I wanted to learn how to spin my own yarn and thread, how to knit, weave, sew and embroider, and how to make natural dyes so that I could make my own costumes from the ground up. I used to use quills and fountain pens, and making my own paper and ink was another wish of mine, as was the idea of making candles to read and work by after dark. I used to dream of making my own soap, pottery, baskets, jewelry... basically, everything. I dreamed of having a self-sufficient homestead surrounded by woods, and gathering all of my family's food from our wild environs, gardens, orchards, and dairy. I dreamed of having horses and carts or buggies... I never liked cars and never wanted to learn to drive them. I wanted to live a mostly old-fashioned non-electric lifestyle, but to use solar batteries or other small, eco-friendly sources of electricity to power the few modern conveniences that I felt were essential for me. <br />
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I did do some of those things... I engaged in fantasy role-playing games with my friends, I learned to spin, I could sew (by hand) and embroider, I made a few pottery pieces when I took a handbuilding pottery class, I made a little jewelry by putting together different elements that I had ordered from a catalogue, I helped my parents in the garden (and I never learned to drive a car)... but for the most part, I have had to learn the very important lesson that I can't do it all by myself. In fact, I can barely do ANYTHING by myself, if it isn't my forte or something I absolutely love to do. When it comes to learning something new or doing a task that feels like drudgery to me, I can do it and do it well, but I function much better if someone else is taking care of other necessary tasks, leaving me free to focus on the one I am doing -- to take my time and complete it thoroughly and peacefully. Multitasking is NOT. MY. THING, and I am not one of those amazing Energizer Bunny people who can accomplish tons and tons of stuff every day. Just a few things, done slowly, but well and thoroughly, with attention to detail -- that's my style. Accepting my limitations has been a difficult and bitter lesson for me to learn. I have poisoned myself with desperate and miserable self-hatred; I have sunk into depression time and again. But I think I have finally learned that I am simply a small and limited being who can only do as much as God enables me to do and no more -- and that is OK. I am still worthy of love, and I have to love myself. I have to be completely understanding and forgiving toward myself regarding my limitations. I have to do the best I can, and be happy with that. That is enough -- from me. <br />
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But unfortunately that leaves my house a never-ending, disorganized mess, which I absolutely hate. And I don't feel that I or my family should have to live like that. So it follows that I need help. But from whom? My kids are too young to be much help (my one-year-old daughter, on the contrary, seems highly dedicated to un-helping with the housework; in her mind, apparently, everything -- EVERYTHING -- belongs on the floor, and she works assiduously toward this end at every opportunity). My husband works full-time and cherishes his chance to relax when he's home. My parents have moved to India, and though my mom does come and spend a month or two with us twice a year, I don't want to be forever waiting for her next visit to restore normalcy and livability to our household, just to have things go back to dreadful, un-livable mess again as soon as she leaves. What I'd really like is to live next door to my best friend, so that we can help each other out with childcare, cooking and housework on a daily basis. But that ain't happening, at least not yet. So what to do? I don't know. I don't think we have enough money to hire help yet. I'm not sure... I just know we've got soooo many places to put money and it feels like there's barely enough to get by. I've thought of getting a job, but I was raised with "traditional family values" and I guess I still believe my rightful place is at home. I do have friends around here, but mostly everyone just stays in their own home and takes care of their own stuff. I've received general/non-specific offers of help -- "anything you need, just ask, OK?" -- but it is SO dang hard to call someone up and ask them to do something for you, like cook for your family or come over and clean your house, if you're not offering them something in exchange -- like money or better yet, the same type of favor in return. But we haven't got much money -- and how can I help take care of another family when I can barely take care of my own??? I feel like I'm trapped in hell and there's no way out. I keep on enduring the mess, day after day -- hoping I'll have the chance to get to it one of these days and at least make SOME progress on whipping this place into shape -- hating it when that keeps not happening -- seeing no hope on the horizon except my mom's next visit -- and that hope isn't a very bright one because even with two of us here, there's still more work to be done than we can ever get around to. I groan for the days when big, extended families used to live together, and everyone generally had a great work ethic -- when there truly were many hands to make light work of the daily tasks. I dream of living in a communal or traditional village setting, where your neighbors don't just issue vague offers of help if you need it, but actually make it their business to come over and see you, and if you need help in any way, they are there for you. I think lots and lots and LOTS of people are really desperate for more help and support, and a more deep, true, satisfying bond with their friends and neighbors, whether they realize it or not. How can we make that happen??? How can we knit communities together more closely again, as in olden days?<br />
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I wish I knew. I can try to come up with ideas, but better yet would be to brainstorm ideas with others who are committed to the same project. Alone, I feel like I have no energy to carry out anything I might come up with. Like ideas, I believe energy is contagious when enthusiastic teamwork is at play. <br />
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I just pray that God will connect me with others who observe the same need in society and want to do something to fix the situation.Kamalini Dasi Getzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04515294873526930071noreply@blogger.com1