>I’m spending the day with my baby today as she was having a cranky morning and just seemed not ready to spend the day in daycare. And I was thinking about how that nurturing feeling of gardening is so much like having a baby, except you have lots of babies all over your garden. And there’s no poop. And no projectile vomiting. And no all-night feedings. OK, OK, but back to my point of them being so alike. That feeling of joy when you see your first little green shoot pop up from the ground. The care you put into training the growth of a plant or cutting it back to encourage better growth.
In fact, I found that when I was pregnant, I had an overwhelming urge to get in the garden and dig in the dirt. And no, I am not talking about the urge to EAT dirt (yes, it happens, it’s called pica, no I didn’t do it). I just wanted to be out there among all of the life in the ground and helping my plants to get their strongest. In fact, I had quite a few gardening milestones while I was pregnant. I tilled and planted my wildflower garden (aka septic field) at 6 months pregnant. I completed my Master Gardeners class at about 8 months pregnant. I planted my first rose garden at 9 months pregnant. And my newborn daughter accompanied to the Master Gardener phone desk for volunteer hours for the first few months of her life. In fact, that was the only time of the day when she slept soundly. Maybe some of my love for gardening has been passed on to her.
And I leave you with the most redneck-y photo I have ever taken.
Right after this, my husband banned me from using all power tools for the rest of my pregnancy. Oh shucks, a video of me, my belly and a chainsaw might have won me some money on America’s Funniest Home Videos! Or a visit from CPS.