Mama’s Bean and the Philosophy of Being

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1967

Abstract

over my care at the 36th hour, for seeing the disappointment in my tears. She gave me three pushes, sort of like a genie who says “be careful what you wish for,” and out came Mr. E. Happy story. Thank you for asking when my baby is due.</li><li>I just really love pizza. And pasta. And ice cream. Why don’t you buy me an ice cream? There’s this amazing new place downtown. It is called Simon Says Dip This. It is amazing. Take me there. My baby’s hungry.</li></ul><p id="9c3b">There is a <a href="https://www.healthline.com/health/womens-health/how-many-eggs-does-a-woman-have#what-were-born-with">science</a> that I find truly amazing and mind blowing to think about. Females develop all of their immature eggs (oocytes) early on in their own fetal development! This means Mr. E has been with me since my inception! Talk about the philosophy of being, <a href="undefined">J.D. Harms</a>! This also means that I have been with my mom since she was a fetus, and she’s been with my grandma since infinity.</p><p id="4352">It certainly feels like my son and I have a soul-mate connection. He exhibits a lot of the wizardry of my childhood spirit. He is my dream come true. My one and only bean. And I am so grateful every day that I get to be his mama. After all, we’ve been through life after life after life.</p><p id="e12b">What is your take on past lives? Are there soulmates in your life you’ve known much longer than your hippocampus is capable of remembering? Do you love someone with every inch of your being? I really want to know!</p><p id="faaa">Go ahead and respond in the comments, as Medium means to be more relational, right <a href="undefined">Laurie Perez</a>? Or write a new post on your thoughts, and tag me in it so I can read it. Or go ahead and drop your links to this thought experiment in the comments to this post. I am OK with that (this time).</p><p id="0751">Thank you for reading, and thank you, writers, who push my thinking every day, but

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specifically these works lately:</p><p id="9a47">“<a href="https://readmedium.com/fetus-life-poetry-humanity-self-cbd1deb7c304">A Former Seed</a>” by <a href="undefined">Anthi Psomiadou</a>, “So <a href="https://readmedium.com/so-ambition-falls-71b6dfced710">Ambition Falls</a>” by <a href="undefined">J.D. Harms</a>, and <i>The LOOK of Amie Martine</i>, a novel by <a href="undefined">Laurie Perez</a>.</p><p id="8e8f">Samantha Lazar 2021</p><p id="371c">Thank you for reading. Check out my first poetry narrative collection: <i>Reaching Marrakesh</i>. You can find that <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Reaching-Marrakesh-Samantha-Rae-Lazar/dp/B08P1CFFG1/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=reaching+marrakesh&qid=1606511579&sr=8-1">here.</a></p><p id="eabf">Other work:</p><div id="b993" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/skipping-the-fledgling-stage-5f56d4105011"> <div> <div> <h2>Skipping the Fledgling Stage</h2> <div><h3>Prose poetry on the philosophy of being</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*TMSxYnhkuEz7ITSJ)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="dc52" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/restaurant-work-and-the-culture-of-sexual-harassment-df65862a7b68"> <div> <div> <h2>Restaurant Work and the Culture of Sexual Harassment</h2> <div><h3>People need to report it</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*GAPKje0myYj6Ovsb)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Inception prose

Oocyte is my newest pet name for my sweet Mr. E. He is 10, going on 38, IMHO, a magical near-middle-aged soul, full of quick wit, full of himself, totally in-tune, but easily checked-out. This mama/teacher cannot compete with a screen, even if I flash my mammaries. How quickly kids forget the sweet comfort of the letdown, while I, with a preteen son (does he have a mustache’s shadow?), still feel engorgement’s phantom twin sister, anytime a baby comes near me. Or let’s be honest, anytime I think about a baby. Perhaps I was a wet nurse in a former life.

No, I am not pregnant. And thank you for not asking when my baby is due. Seriously, don’t cross me unless you want to feel the shame of one of my tongue lashing, unfortunately, well-practiced retorts:

My baby is due 10 years ago plus a couple of months. Valentine’s Day 2011 to be exact, but threatened with induction, I did what any sensible flight-or-fight individual will do, I said fuck that. And I literally did ‘fuck that’. Plus I went for long waddles and drank all the water. Labor came “naturally” just like I wanted, but rolling thunder pain, plus nausea, plus allergic reactions, plus fever brought on all the western drugs (read: needle in the back) I never wanted. Then at shift change on the morning of the 12th, every intern came to my room, turned Grand Central Station, turned c-section circus. Then I was threatened with signing the dotted line for surgery. Thank you notorious, lawsuit-fearing obstetrician, who took over my care at the 36th hour, for seeing the disappointment in my tears. She gave me three pushes, sort of like a genie who says “be careful what you wish for,” and out came Mr. E. Happy story. Thank you for asking when my baby is due.

I just really love pizza. And pasta. And ice cream. Why don’t you buy me an ice cream? There’s this amazing new place downtown. It is called Simon Says Dip This. It is amazing. Take me there. My baby’s hungry.

There is a science that I find truly amazing and mind blowing to think about. Females develop all of their immature eggs (oocytes) early on in their own fetal development! This means Mr. E has been with me since my inception! Talk about the philosophy of being, J.D. Harms! This also means that I have been with my mom since she was a fetus, and she’s been with my grandma since infinity.

It certainly feels like my son and I have a soul-mate connection. He exhibits a lot of the wizardry of my childhood spirit. He is my dream come true. My one and only bean. And I am so grateful every day that I get to be his mama. After all, we’ve been through life after life after life.

What is your take on past lives? Are there soulmates in your life you’ve known much longer than your hippocampus is capable of remembering? Do you love someone with every inch of your being? I really want to know!

Go ahead and respond in the comments, as Medium means to be more relational, right Laurie Perez? Or write a new post on your thoughts, and tag me in it so I can read it. Or go ahead and drop your links to this thought experiment in the comments to this post. I am OK with that (this time).

Thank you for reading, and thank you, writers, who push my thinking every day, but specifically these works lately:

Samantha Lazar 2021

Thank you for reading. Check out my first poetry narrative collection: Reaching Marrakesh. You can find that here.

Other work: