Images by @madisonem_ Over the coming months I'll be sharing with you the stories, beauty, muck and mire of motherhood. With words written as collaborations between my mother friends & myself (a mother only to her house plants), with pictures captured through my lens. Let's sit.
RENEE. I first met Renée out the front of our local coffee shop. Her little gal pal Augie was trying to pick a flower that did not want to be picked, and it took me using my car key to pry this particular stalk and bud apart. Usually, of course, I wouldn't encourage ripping flowers from their stems but if you've met Augie you'd understand why I did it... Renée is a dream. Initially a dream I felt unobtainable. She is upon first look, aesthetically exquisite; her frame is delicate and the way her eyes crease in the corners when she smiles casts a kind of spell over people, trumped only by the smile itself. But you'd be exceedingly wrong to think they're the most interesting things about her. She is considered and funny and charismatic to the core. And from our first interactions, I found her to be deeply devoted to her mothering journey, which she has since described to me as her truest self. Across the almost three hours of talking for this piece, Renée juggled making coffee, crossing her legs on her polished concrete bench, getting down to stop Augie impaling herself with whatever she had grabbed from the draw, getting back up on the bench, laughing, tearing up, changing the channel - all while sharing some incredibly personal stories of love and loss. I could write this entire blog about getting married young and navigating a partnership in one of the biggest growth periods of our life. I could write it about miscarriage and infertility or partner advocacy during birth or how a child's birth influences their personality. But I shall do my best to juice the most nutritious words.
It's Sunday as I write this, rainy and cosy. Just a few hours ago I was welcomed into their home by 3yr old Auguste Florence, who told me about her husband Pinky. A giant brown bear that she described as a 'lazy guy' whilst scarfing down honey toast with a side of water - shaken not stirred. She's a wild child, with zest for life absolutely bursting at the very seams of her tiny body.
Renée's partner Riley was standing by the couch with a big smile watching Augie tell me stories of adventures she's been on in her mind, about to bribe her outside with the promise of a movie later. I went to kindergarten and primary school with Riley. We weren't really friends because even then, in all our infancy, he had achieved a level of cool I am still not acquainted with. 25 years later (and what feels like multiple lives) we're all grown up and doing our very best to live the most veracious lives possible.
I think at first Renée felt nervous to speak to her experience, perhaps fuelled by not having reflected on it in immense detail before, or for having done exactly that. Sometimes getting too close to a memory flame can burn in new ways it hasn't before...
Her story is a common one, but perhaps not a familiar one. I don't believe anyone has talked me through the process she went through to have her son join us earth side in such detail before - both the steps & procedures themselves but also of the joy, pain, rapture and turmoil.
We eased into our chat while Renée made coffee, with me not so subtly lulling us into an interview by asking about their upcoming move to Perth; a daunting one that hopes to open up a portal into a lifestyle where Riley can spend more time with the kids instead of his usual few weeks on, few weeks off as a FIFO. ''He worked away when Augie was little, it was during Covid and he was gone for extended periods of time... now that we can travel again we're just ready for a change. This is the best time of our lives and I don't want him to miss out on that with the kids.''
The conversation curved and winded around the first-born, new-born feeling. A beautiful little girl was thrust into the world in a bombastic way (still living as such now!) leaving behind some big feelings of strain on her mamma's body and mind. ''When I first saw Augie, I did get that absolutely magic newborn feeling. It's a real thing. And then they turn 3...'' laughed Riley. Renée and Riley knew they wanted a second baby on a cellular level. She explained eloquently that it was an incomplete feeling for the both of them, and a longing to meet the specific baby that was supposed to be here with them. Enduring a physically and emotionally traumatic birth with Augie, it seemed to me like the fear surrounding that experience set them on corse with a depleted bag of metaphorical rations and a less than substantial basket of emotional provisions to move forward. Across the next two years, alongside a miniature live-in comedian daughter, Renée (and Riley, it must be noted) lost many beautiful babies for various reasons. Far too many. (Renée) 'It was a lonely and isolating time. Although your partner is experiencing the same losses and doing their very best to support you, there is this visceral feeling that you're alone because you're the one who can't get pregnant, or carry to term. That really broke me.'' They tried all the things there are to try, alongside extensive and militant support from a fertility doctor who once called them in the middle of a drive home from Canberra and told them they needed to have sex immediately as she had entered the fertility window to conceive. If you've ever seen Taylor Tomlinson's comedy special on car sex, (or have had the immense displeasure of doing it yourself) you'll know it's not the most romantic of times. They climbed mountains and waded through rivers of hellish loss only to be referred to another specialist in Sydney at breaking point. In their initial Zoom meeting, the Dr declared she was going to do nothing for them and to 'call back in four weeks when you're pregnant.' Flabbergasted, they left the meeting with no plan, no advice and nothing to go off... A month later, they called the specialist back. Pregnant. They explained how it took them being at the point of giving up to allow themselves to rest. 'The Dr told us we were young, healthy, and knew we already had a baby... it was just never meant to be this hard! The time had come to give up on the whole chase. And then there he was.''
Their son is named Lenny.
Affectionally the namesake of a pet Renée had as a child (I have no idea how people name humans, it seems infinitely difficult and stressful to me!). Lenny is a lover. A big time, eternal, squishy love-heart of a boy.
(Riley) ''I honestly don't think you would have actually properly healed from Augie's birth if we didn't have Lenny.'' (Renée) ''Yeah, I agree. I think looking back now and reflecting on our infertility journey to Lenny, I was always on a quest to get to him. I think that he has healed our whole family - not just me, he has healed everything...I could re-write stories that didn't unfold the way I wanted with Augie, and we could write new ones all together.''
I wanted to dig a little deeper here, into the feeling of getting past the 'safe' point of a new pregnancy after loss, so I asked about the final few months themselves. What the connection was like with the growing bub and how excited they let themselves get. (Renée) ''I think that a lot of people probably think that when you've already got one kid, you should be content with it and not long for more. But it's a feeling that doesn't go away until you fulfil it... Riley approached me after our second miscarriage and said he just didn't think he could keep going. It was a lot on him, on me and on us. Riley is so supportive, and he was never implying that we stop trying - but out of love he said it might be time to look at other ways like fostering.'' ''Then, once you're pregnant again and you get past 20 or so weeks, you want to get excited. But my pregnancy with Lenny was so dark. I don't think I let myself breathe the entire time.''
Renée and Riley are now the keepers of a story so intimate and personal; only they will ever understand it's depths. I asked them if they give each other alone time to go out for coffee or a cocktail for an hour or so a week. I'm always intrigued by how people co-parent, and in this case how they parent when they feel a very special kind of connection with the children they fought so hard to have here with us in different ways... A sly glance was exchanged between them and then a big laugh erupted 'uhhh no, no, that doesn't usually happen!! Although Riley is very hungover today hahaha.''
''I think I'm mindful that it's not really that time of my life (to have solo time). It's a time for kids and big emotions and big personalities. We're riding the wave''. Renée says this with a sweet energy as she pulls Augie's hair into a little flower clip and kisses her on the cheek.
(Renée) "Life's busy! Our door is always open and people come over 20 times a day - I love that. The house that was here before we built was like that; it's a nice energy. What comes from that too is that the kids feel immensely loved by our family and community. That's all I've ever wanted.'' Our conversation came to a close as Lenny woke up from his nap. The moment we heard his little stirrings in the monitor microphone she crossed her arms across her chest ''annnnnnd I'm leaking!!' she laughed. Riley collected little Lenny from his crib and out came a ray of sunshine with a giant smile, and the most calm, content energy I've experienced from a baby in a long time. Although I was mindful he just awoke from a nap, this is his usual state they tell me. Augie requested they bring him down to her for a kiss on the head. She then declared, ''BORINGGGG!''. Bliss.
What valuable thoughts could I even add to a story like this? I think reflecting on the way Renee talks about the 'normalcy' of her experience has been the most valuable in putting together this initial piece in the series. Giving a platform where women can feel seen in their journey to bring humans into the world (which is both as common as making our beds in the morning and as incredible as the space time continuum) is such a privilege. Next week, in the most beautiful coincidence we have Megan's story. A midwife who was supporting Renée in the hospital when Auguste Forence was born. See you there! M x
A beautiful piece of writing! I smiled, teared up, got goosebumps, chuckled. All the emotions!
Beautiful read. I just loved it. Thankyou for sharing.