{A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life. ~Isadora James} These last few days have been hard. I'm not the one to slow down, but oh how pregnancy reminded me that sometimes in order to grow this new baby, I need to sit my busy self down. So here I sit, with a cold that won't quit, my hairs a mess, my clothes...we won't go there, with a list of a million things I need to do before this bundle arrives swimming through my head. I've done nothing to prepare, by this time last pregnancy I had painted furniture, moved, put an entire nursery together, I probably had my hospital bag packed like a crazy lady, but then again that's how most first pregnancies go. Second pregnancies...not so much, can I get an extra month please?

As I sat, deep in my self loathing and feeling pretty sorry for myself, wondering how I'm going to do it all. This child, this wonderful little child of mine comes over, lifts up my shirt and exclaimed "Da Beeebee, muuh bebe!" In between rapid fire kisses (hence her blurry face). Reminding me yet again (because I apparently didn't remember the first time) that everything will fall into place, that everyone's fed and happy and right now that is enough.

{Why choose love? Why choose patience? Why choose compassion? When life throws you so many opportunities to choose hate, anger, and jealousy.}

Today choose compassion, because even though someone may not show it to you, you just might be the compassionate light that someone desperately needed that day. The reminder that we are all in this together. That it's ok, that every day is not perfect. Who's to say you can't make the best out of the hand thats been dealt. Choose compassion because it's contagious, like laughter.

Today choose patience, not because it's easy, but because there are two little pairs of eyes looking up at you, searching for guidance.

Today choose love, because love is patient, love is kind, it does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud, rude or self seeking, it is not easily angered, and keeps no records of wrongs. Love never fails! It reminds each and every one of us that we are precious, it's like magic, it reaches into your soul and changes you in the most profound ways.

{24+6 Weeks}The gradual expansion of life, a widening of body, heart, and soul. Every space filled, buzzing with expectant life.

Entering the stage of pregnancy where sweet kicks have begun to take their toll on my already aching body. Sleep has become a game of Tetris, (where can I shove this pillow in order to make myself comfortable). Space is quickly fading, heartburn is seeping in, and Braxton hicks has reared it's ugly head.

In order to give life, we must expand... expand our lives, our patients, our hearts, and our time, not just our bodies. Though it's fitting our bodies must first expand, making way for the overwhelming amount of love and light that will simultaneously fill those once aching spaces when life arrives. A beautifully slow lesson in live and let be.

23+3 weeks {Let us make pregnancy an occasion when we appreciate our female bodies. ~Merete Leonhardt-Lupa}

I struggled with loving my body during my last pregnancy. I clearly remember staring at my expanding body in the mirror with tears in my eyes. The sad truth was most of my poor body image issues were projected onto me by other mamas who told me that I would never be the same again, and to say goodbye to the body I knew. Their horror stories and traumatic births left me terrified and depressed. I never embraced my new growing self fully. It wasn't until I gave birth to my daughter that I finally appreciated the truly miraculous feat my body had preformed. Staring down at the child I had a hand in creating and now nourished with my own body, was nothing short of a miracle, with her arrival came a confidence I had never known. I was determined to go through this pregnancy differently, to love myself no matter what, to embrace this special time in my life, because I want my daughter to always love herself, through every phase of life.

{23+1 weeks • & A Babymoon} Escaping to an Island is nothing new for me, though it's usually to Tortola where my father grew up, and where family surrounds me. Instead we decided to go somewhere new, since bringing another child into this world will be entirely something new. The beauty here is breathtaking, and watching my little family enjoy it makes it all the more sweet.I've found a strength within myself here that I never found while pregnant with Elly.

They say with age comes wisdom, and though I find that to be true, I've found wisdom in carrying a child, a comfort in my own growing skin, and a new found respect for what my body can do. On an Island, with mountains at your back and water on all sides, your choices are limited, as with giving birth. Not pushing is not an option, pain is inevitable, the unknown just beyond the horizon.

Being here has let me face real fears I have about giving birth this time around, maybe it's because I know the waves (who am I kidding) wall of sheer pain I must face again, maybe it's because I've done it before, maybe it's because I had a successful and beautiful birth... Or maybe it's because both of my grandmothers died birthing their children. Placing these fears in Gods loving hands is all I can do, trusting the process and my body is all I can do.

“A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

Sometimes I just stare at her and think...I can't believe I made a person.

{22+3 Weeks • Rooted} I've grown roots, not physical roots of course, but a rootedness to the earth, to myself, and to my unborn child. It happened unknowingly during my last pregnancy I'm sure, but I was too busy preparing in every way imaginable that I clearly must have missed it. Early pregnancy for me is like a freshly potted plant, roots frayed and wild, reaching out for soil that is unsteady and loose, instead I reach for the closeness of others, mostly my husband. He could not come home from work soon enough, I followed him around like a lost puppy needing attention. Any room he was in I had to be, I'm sure it drove him nuts though I'll never know it, because he was there with arms wide open.

Then just like that, my roots finally take hold, grounding me, and I crave space and solitude. Every step I take leaves behind a tangible warmth, proof of my existence. I find comfort in the quiet of being alone, most evenings spent sitting on the porch as the last rays of light flee, peacefully greeting the night, while I thankfully reminisce about the day, and contemplate the future. All the while joyfully aware of the tiny being resting just beneath my skin. For me, a person who has searched all their life for this indescribable feeling, on top of mountains, down rivers, off the beaten path, and to finally find 'it' within myself, is the greatest blessing I could have ever hoped for.

photo

{The night walked down the sky with the moon in her hand. ~Frederick L. Knowles} 21+6 weeks • Tangled beneath all this life, I never thought I'd be as blessed as this. Love, seeping out of every corner. Every kiss, every laugh, every silly grin, reminding why I press on through achey limbs and tired eyes. The magic of two lovers, so tangible and real.

{Pregnant women! They had that weird frisson, an aura of magic that combined awkwardly with an earthy sense of duty. Mundane, because they were nothing unique on the suburban streets; ethereal because their attention was ever somewhere else, and they had that preciousness which they imposed wherever they went, compelling attention, constantly reminding you that they carried the future inside, its contours already drawn, but veiled, private, an inner secret. ~Ruth Morgan} 21+4 weeks • That strange feeling of distance, from anything and everything around me that pregnancy sometimes brings. Moments feel like a lifetime, tears flow freely, and emotions are worn on your sleeve. A precious time when you are totally woman...mother.

{21 weeks, To be pregnant is to be vitally alive, thoroughly woman, and distressingly inhabited. Soul and spirit are stretched - along with body - making pregnancy a time of transition, growth, and profound beginnings. ~Anne Christian Buchanan} Starting to come into the fullness of pregnancy. My feet are slowly disappearing, sandals are getting harder to buckle, and so are pants. What once were slight flutters and taps have become stronger kicks and rolls. I cannot believe the speed at which the weeks are flying by, bringing me closer and closer to meeting my sweet babe. Bonus* I've started quite the love affair with chocolate covered honeycomb, maybe that's why I can no longer button my pants...

“A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

Peek-a-boo in the curtains with my cheeky girl.

I just can't get enough kisses from this sweet girl! When she was smaller we would try to give her a kiss and she would turn and laugh (broke my little mama heart). Lately at night, right before she falls asleep E has started to give me tons and tons of kisses, some with her eyes half closed, it's one of my favorite moments of the day.

"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard." ~Anne Sexton

The quiet love between you and I, what a feeling, to carry two hearts inside of you. No one knows you like I do, they don't hear the soft exchange of our beating hearts. Or feel the soft kicks and turns you make when I sing aloud, or when your Papa whispers to you. I never feel as connected to myself, to life, as when I'm carrying it. Carrying you makes my soul complete, it sings, illuminated, full of your spirit. I've never loved you more than I do now, until the moment your skin touches mine, bare on my chest, until then...

Love, Mama

http://vimeo.com/100842619  

Find out  more & support The Letters HERE

xo,

Krystal

{~20 Weeks~ Words that are hard to find. The let down of raw emotion and fear making it's exit takes it's toll. I wasn't going to write this, I was going to let this fade away into memories unknown, because that's easier...but I won't, because someone might need these words.}

This week was one of the hardest tests of faith I've ever had. While staring at the babies heart for what seemed an unusual amount of time, my own heart sank, and fear crept in. When you imagine your child coming into this world it's always perfect, all you wish for is a healthy baby, but there it was, right in front of me, on a screen in plain black and white. I wanted to run, but I stayed steady, I wanted to cry, but I refused, I wanted to yell and ask why, but I just smiled at the sweet ultrasound tech as she left to grab the doctor. God doesn't give you more than you can handle...he doesn't right? I asked myself sitting there, just my sweet baby and I.

She returned with the doctor, my mother and my daughter in tow. If you know me, when faced with hardship I smile, while silently building a wall, not to close myself off, but to hold myself up, you see I'm too afraid to reach for outspread arms for fear of breaking down. Talk of Down's syndrome and heart problems, swirled the room, backgrounds and too much blood were taken. In silence, fear crept in, not for me, but for my child, because people can be cruel when they don't understand you. How would I do this? Where would the strength come from? How will I tell my husband who has already watched his own sister pass away from a neurological disorder.

I scoured the internet in secret, reading story after story of negative and positive outcomes, finding comfort in their words. Days passed, we filled them with joy and life carried on, as silent prayers were made, all while waiting for a phone call that finally came. I almost didn't hear her when she said that all the results came back negative, I had already settled in my mind that I would do whatever was needed in order to provide this child with the happiest life possible, no matter the result. I knew this child would be perfect, that I would learn from he or she, that I would be the best mother I could possibly be to both my children because that's what they need. Tears flowed and fear exited, and just like that everything was back to the way that it was.

The KICKSTARTER for The 'Letters' A Portrait of Motherhood is live for the next 30 days. I'm putting everything on the line and if I don't reach the goal within the time allotted, I won't receive a dime. It's really all or nothing and I believe that some things are worth the risk, that this project, this wonderful book written by YOU will be a success. So spread the word! Re-post until your hearts content, blog about it, and don't forget to use the hashtag #ISUPPORTTHELETTERS, you have a voice so let it be heard! Together we can make this book a reality, together we can support one another and break down the walls that divide us.

Much Love and Appreciation,

Krystal

I had the honor of being Interviewed by @thebestgiftoflife along side so many inspiring Mamas. Check out their beautiful site over at www.thebestgiftoflife.com

xx,

Krystal

"The hardest thing to accept as a parent is that you cannot apply the bandage before the bruise. ~Robert Brault"

The day is done, and this mama is spent. Elly fell today and busted her lip open, oh why didn't I install carpet? Who decided tile was a marvelous idea with a child learning how to walk? With a mouthful of blood and tears (mostly from me) later, I've realized that raising a toddler is hazardous. With walking and running comes bumps and bruises. I know this will be the first of many along the way, but oh, if I could take each and every one of them for her I would...But then what would be the lesson? How would she grow if I kept her in a bubble, safe where no harm could come to her? What kind of person would she become if I never had the chance to teach her how to get up, brush herself off, hold her head up, and try try again? Looking to the future I've realized that the hardest lesson for a parent to learn is Children need support and freedom. The realization that this is what children will always need can hit hard.

“A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

Summer time is here, bringing tan lines and blonde streaks. You love the ocean like an old friend, it's so sweet to see.

"Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch. ~E.B. White"

Ten toes out, and ten toes in. One asleep, and one awake. Daydreaming of the day when the two shall meet. These are the moments I wish to keep.

“A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

Mornings are especially special, you're favorite game to play upon waking is, let's hide in the sheets.

"Invisible wounds are the hardest to heal. For their closure depends upon the love of others. On patience, understanding, and the tender gift of time." -Call The Midwife

Happy July everyone! I'm starting this month out with a bang, a very nervous bang at that. The Kickstarter for the book I've been working on starts tomorrow! For those of you who are new to my blog, Hi, Welcome!

I've been working on a book over the past six months called The Letters - A Portrait of Motherhood. I'm based out of San Diego CA and have traveled as far as my car and pockets can take me. Now I need your help to reach the over 30+ Mothers that are located as far as New Zeland who wish to take part in this book. Not only have I photographed Mothers, but I've sat with them for hours, listening and talking about their unique journey through Motherhood. I've met so many amazingly diverse women along the way, from single moms, to mothers who've beat cancer, to those who are still fighting it, mothers who are terminally Ill, mothers who've out lived their children, mothers of multiples, young mothers, 94 year old mothers turned grandmothers turned great grandmothers, and countless others. Every one, every single Mother I've met has touched my life in ways I never thought possible. I also asked them to write a letter voicing anything and everything it is to be a Mother, the good the bad and the smelly.

Every Mother has a voice, great words of wisdom to share, words that are greatly needed in a world where certain aspects of Motherhood are now shushed and shamed. Where poor body image and post partum depression adds to a sometimes already lonely mama road. My hope is that this book, this collection of portraits and letters touches you in the amazing way that it has touched me.

If you wish to take part in this book or know someone who might, please send me an e-mail at Hello@KrystalDonovan.com

Here we GO!

As I sat beneath the window letting the last bit of sunlight showered me with warmth, I watched you play , content with your toy and the silence. I sat there wondering how you would adjust to having a sibling, would you still be content and happy? Would you love each other? Would I be enough for the both of you? Or would you miss the time shared between just you and I.

As the light began to fade from our bedroom window my thoughts drifted away, while flutters from a love I had yet to meet gently moved beneath my hand. It was then that you crawled over to me and laid your head on my belly, resting your hand there too. It was as if you knew, in the smallness that is you, you knew. For almost ten whole minutes you sat there with me, listening, feeling, and loving whole heartedly your new sibling and I.

A peace washed over me, and I remembered that God has a perfect plan.

My fears and worries soothed, by a little girl I am so blessed to call my own.

Happiness is a choice, a choice made daily. A choice that is sometimes a hard one to make, when you're running on empty, your patience are thin, and the inside of your eyelids are foreign to you. When colds have taken over the house, and husbands are working late. When the days seem to blend one into the next, and it could be Saturday for all you know. When you can't help but wonder how other mamas do it, when they have twice as many kids as you, and twice as many trying moments.

Choosing happiness can be hard. Choosing to get out of the house and make that day, today, a better day, is a choice. To smile, to laugh, to see the beauty at the end of a storm, to be the light you're wishing would shine, choose happiness, because this is just a season, and it might be the sweetest one yet.

“A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

Elly- This is you, sunshine and smiles, wrapped up into one amazing little being.

“A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

There are no seven wonders of the world in the eyes of a child. There are seven million. ~Walt Streightiff

Elly- I could watch her watch the sky forever.

•17 Weeks• {I think that carrying a baby inside you is like running as fast as you can. It feels like finally letting go and filling yourself up to the wildest limits. ~Author Unknown}

You're there, you are really there. Though I knew you were all along, your tiny heart beat and little bean of a body still engrained in my mind from weeks past. At times I would have to remind myself that I was indeed carrying life, another magical piece of your father and I to go wandering this world. I had to remind myself because in those early weeks you were like a breeze, comforting and soothing, though sometimes rarely noticed. You made it easy for me, and for that, I thank God.

Now I undoubtably know you're there, your gentle kicks and flips are so soothing and familiar, reminding me once again what a privilege it is to be a vessel for creation. I love you little one, and I don't even know your name.

Love, Mama

“A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

Elly- You bring the sunshine when you wake.

“A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

You are mine, my little island baby.

Here is the reason why I've been a bad blogger. The first trimester tiredness is no joke!

I cannot tell you how absolutely thrilled I am to become a mother for the second time come early December. It's no secret that Motherhood is my absolute favorite thing....ever! Though I honestly never thought I would be here, married with a toddler that keeps me on my toes at all times and one sweet little bundle on the way. I though I would forever be a nomad going wherever my feet lead me. I never thought that I would be led through life by tiny little hands that I had a part in creating. Its the sweetest joy, and the biggest blessing.

Watching Elly's sweet babyness fade away as she starts walking and the rolls begin quietly disappearing, makes me a little teary eyed. As I watch my little girl, my first born, grow into the little person she's destine to become, I cant help but rejoice in the fact that she chose me to be her mother. Though she'll always be my  baby, I'm starting to miss those early morning infant stretches, first noises, and midnight feedings. She started weening herself a few months back, though she still nurses  on occasion, it has become far and few between, which makes my heart ache a little.

With Elly, pregnancy seemed to drag on an on and on... but this second time around, my goodness, where has the time gone? I blinked and I was 16 weeks pregnant. I need more time, time to prepare, time to digest the fact that all too soon we'll be a family of four, and I may never figure out how to get out of the house in under an hour, or ever. Time to figure out how I can possibly love a second as much as I love the first, or how I will ever take a nap again. Or how on earth you manage to go to the grocery store with two kids, what if they both want to get in the cart?? I know in time the knowledge will come, the  naps will return, and I will in fact figure out how to do all this. Right mamas?

For now, I'm going to enjoy every God given second of this pregnancy, this time where we are one in the same. This time where every flutter and every hiccup stops me in my tracks and makes me smile. This time where I lay awake at night wondering what you'll look like, or who you'll take after. Dreaming of you and your sister playing together, loving each other, something I never experienced as an only child. I cannot wait, our little Christmas baby, you are the sweetest gift.

xo,

Krystal

“A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

You're growing right before my eyes, each and everyday. Yet moments like these take my breath away, I can almost see the women you're destine to become.

As an only child, my search for community started young. I can remember being alone as a child, wanting, craving, community. Someone to call on when friends let you down, someone to whisper my secrets to late at night.

For this reason I hold relationships with my friends extremely dear to my heart. Equally, the loss of friendships devastate me deeply, when they fade away until you no longer speak. When your paths drift so far apart that your lives are no longer shared, it saddens me.

Women, we are a difficult breed. We share such ties from just being, women, yet we are the most vicious to one another. Our words strike like vipers, our eyes can cut like knives. We are like two batteries laid next to each other at opposite ends, attracted and pulled.

Then we become mothers, and we are drawn to each other once again. Drawn to this community, that I know exists, that I know deep down to the core of me is needed in order to mother.

When I became a mother, I did so without sisters, or close friends who were mothers themselves. I did it alone, the only advice, strong arms and listening ears were those of my mother. I journeyed alone, in secret, wondering if this was normal, if the lack of sleep would end, if my body would be my own again. My mind raced with thoughts and questions that only other mothers could give the answers to.

Though I live in a city where there is no shortage of mothers, building friendships with them is another story.

Why is it when we go to the park, instead of talking to one another we get on our phones and ignore the presence of one another. Why is it that all I feel is the judgment of heavy eyes burning into me, critiquing what I'm wearing, what my child is wearing, what wrap I'm using, what stroller I'm pushing. Why when such amazing joy surrounds us, that of our children, do we fail to rejoice in it? Why when we see a mother whose face is full of old tears and no sleep do we ignore her, and not tell her that this too shall pass, that we've been there. That there is a light at the end, that we to are journeying along with her.

Silence, the deafening silence that wraps itself around too many mothers, crippling their day-to day. She masks it with a painted on smile, filling the spaces with talk of milestones and triumphs, careful not to mention that her head is barley above water. Postpartum depression, fear, doubts, the simple lack of support, that pushes her to the edge.

Some of us suffer in silence because we are to afraid to talk about the hard stuff, the dirty stuff, the stuff that motherhood is made of! We're afraid to just let it out because we can be vipers.

Let it end here.

Let us be the light for someone who is in the dark.

Let us talk about the hard stuff, and the messy stuff.

Let us support one another.

Let us cheer for the ones that are on top.

Let the ones on top be humble and reach out to the ones who are not.

Let the judgment end here.

Let the harsh words that come so easily become words of encouragement and love.

Let us journey together, side by side, shoulder to shoulder.

Whether you breastfeed, bottle feed, co-sleep, crib sleep, had a natural birth, love your epidural, push a stroller, wear your babies, whether you're a crunchy mama, or a smooth mama, who cares! It's all peanut butter at the end of the day.

We're all doing the best we can, all of us!

We need each other! We areall searching for community, and I know its there, just beneath the surface, the glitter, and perfectly cropped pictures.

Tiffany a mother I find so deeply inspirational said it well, "we women hold up half the sky!" so lets hold up each other shall we?

xo,

Krystal

"A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

Elly- This is what happens when you leave your camera open on your phone, one year old selfies. Classic.

Her Mother.

That's who I am. She's the one who I have the privilege to mother, and to love for a lifetime.

My first born child, the one who made me a Mother, the one who opened my world and let the sunshine in.

A daughter.

That's who she is. A spunky little child after my own heart.

Someday when she too becomes a Mother, she'll know.

She'll the know the impossible love I have for her.

Love.

The love between lovers, best friends, your other half, creates such wonderful little beings.

Love incarnate.

~

My first Mothers Day, what a day, filled to the brim with everything I thought it would be. Besides the food poisoning , that I did not expect, but that life right? I'll take it, the good the bad and everything in between.

~

Peace & Love,

Krystal

"A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

Every morning I get to wake up to this face, this lovely lovely happy face. I love you.

"A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014″

A leaf. That's all it takes for you to smile from ear to ear.