the clearest eyes. a health like river water, rocks, sun bleached clarity, the aftertaste of leaves. skin like velvet, limbs plump and strong. fat padding the white knit bones. hair thick and unbroken. clean breath. white teeth, formed strong and true. sleep of peace, awakening of awareness. the movement of blood through veins in perfect proportion. my children are like suns. i gravitate toward them in my autoimmune clusters; they are long limbed and energetic, bright eyed and made of tree branch and mountain rock, magnolia blossom and lake water. they are suns. bold, bright, true. this is why-
no chemicals in our cleaners, laundry detergent, dish soap, shampoo, lotions
this is why we take the time, do the research, spend the money, because real health is one of the most glorious, life affirming gifts a human being can know.
in my autoimmune i am swollen, my fingers, my face, my feet, my ankles. pain comes and goes, throbs, stabs or swells. my stomach rounds like the fourth month of pregnancy. my tongue is cut with dents along the side. fatigue, emotional and physical exhaustion, an sense of urgency coupled with a sense of futility. i eat and drink and sleep and try not to look in mirrors or judge myself against the healthy version of myself. i wait for my body to stop attacking. i tell my family. i let the dogs press themselves against my legs, i rub their heads. i work, take care of my children, clean slowly and with the pace of an old lady, sitting every ten minutes with my hands in the air, forcing the fluids down my veins.
at dinner, i ask Ever a silly question. at nine months pregnant Ever was still flipping in utero, so I ask: ' Ever, why did you go round and round in my tummy? '
Ever says ' Because I couldn't find you '