甘え
AMAE
You reach for their hand in the dark, and it is already there.
That is the work. The bond between the two of you is the biggest single influence on the child you are carrying, so it begins with the two of you rather than with the cot.
Then you write a vow, in your own words, to somebody who cannot yet read it.
There is a ceremony about this.
Paige Lamoureux
You walk out with five other couples.
Their children arrive the same month as yours. You will know their names before any of you has seen your own child's face — and at three in the morning, when you are certain you are getting it wrong, one of them is awake too.
The evenings end. What you built between you keeps going.
First birthdays in somebody's backyard. The school gate. And the same philosophy under all of it, chosen on purpose rather than picked up along the way — so your child grows up among children being raised the way you are raising yours.
Seven evenings of the two of you. Then one where you stand up.
Eight evenings in a room with parents whose children arrive within weeks of yours.
Nobody writes it for you, and nobody tidies it afterwards.
It is yours the way you said it, down to the pause before their name. They hear it on the day you hand it to them.
- You arrive after work, with whatever kind of week you have had
- Somebody who has done this before holds the room
- You say as much as you want to say, and no more
- You leave each evening having talked to each other about a matter you had been walking around
- The last one is the ceremony
What happens inside those evenings is Paige's own work, and it stays in the room. This is what it asks of you.
- Eight evenings, together, before your child arrives
- The work on each other first, which is the work on your child
- A vow you write yourselves, and say out loud on the last night
- $400 for the two of you
In a room
Six couples, a facilitator, and a night at the end where everybody is listening. You leave with five families who are walking the same year.
Take Your PlacePlaces are held for two. A letter follows the same day, and a room opens once its couples are gathered — you are told the day yours is one of them.
Wherever you are
The same eight evenings and the same vow, the two of you, at your own pace, for the families a room can never reach.
Take Your PlaceThe same $400, because it is the same work.
Ask us anything at all, and a person answers: Write to us
Every child arrives carrying a wonder that belongs to no other person who has ever lived.