In the Wild

Although Spinoza doesn't acknowledge any distinction between nature and culture (humans and everything we do and make are different ways nature exists, no different from waterfalls and rainbows), I keep thinking/ lamenting that Emmett and I would not have survived "in the wild." We had this insanely long labor even WITH artificial hormones to accelerate the contractions. Feeding him "naturally" has required a whole arsenal of technology and state sponsored intervention. I keep feeling like we would have been left behind by the herd or exposed to the elements for our unfitness (though, in reality, living in a herd would probably have major advantages compared with our nuclear family thousands of miles from the nearest relative). In other words, I keep feeling horribly guilty and incompetent, which is resulting in these ridiculous hypothetical scenarios worthy of the imagination of Ayn Rand or some pop sociobiologist. This is also just a way of saying that labor and tending to a new infant are hard work (duh, labor = work) and don't flow seamlessly and unconsciously from my being. It so often feels too hard, out of reach, and I am straining so often. Part of me must have imagined mothering as a salutary animal complement to my intellectual labor, which is totally contrary to all that I intellectually hold to be true (my feminism, among other things, totally rejects such stupid ideas). Maybe after enough work, some of this will become second nature. Or maybe a nice day at the spa will make me feel less physically unfit. Some day... In the meantime, I try to appreciate the beautiful vitality that is Emmett. He is a stunning force of nature. These pics are just cute. He is a month old now, enjoying the lap of his maternal grandma and framed by one of daddy's many sleater-kinney tee's.