Lucca與他的星星床
在溫暖小屋裡，有一張奇妙的床，這不是普通的床，而是一片會隨著聲音閃耀的星空。住在這裡的小主人Lucca，才兩個月大，但他已是這片星空的守護者。
每天清晨，當陽光輕輕喚醒他時，Lucca便開始他的星語冒險。他的小手揮舞，像是在點亮一顆顆星星。他用「咿欸」和「啊咕」與星空對話。天花板成了他的無垠宇宙，毯子上的小兔則是他的星際夥伴。
Lucca的聲音會引來守護他的爸爸媽媽。他們彷彿聽懂了他的語言，輕聲回應著，讓整個宇宙充滿愛的共鳴。
星空依舊閃爍，而小Lucca的冒險才剛剛啟程。
Lucca and his starry bed
In a warm little house, there is a magical bed. It’s no ordinary bed—it’s a starry sky that sparkles with sound. Its tiny master, Lucca, is only two months old, yet he is already the guardian of this dazzling universe.
Every morning, as the sunlight gently wakes him, Lucca begins his cosmic adventure. His little hands wave, as if lighting up the stars one by one. He speaks to the stars with his soft “ee-eh” and “ah-goo.” The ceiling becomes his boundless universe, and the little bunny on his blanket is his interstellar companion.
Lucca’s sweet sounds often summon his loving parents. They seem to understand his language, responding softly, filling the entire universe with the resonance of love.
The stars continue to shimmer, and Lucca’s grand adventure has only just begun.
猶記得那夜，某種難以言喻的直覺驅使，我們在入睡前完成黑潮展的作品。（那關於深海的聲音之作，似乎預示著我將迎來的狂浪。雖然那時的我還不知道。）工作甫畢，宮縮便如潮水般陣陣襲來。懷著孩子能成為射手座的小小期待，令我們輕忽了這些明顯的產兆，直到禁臠疼痛如狂瀾般難以招架，才想到向助產師求救。
夜半的疲憊與陣痛交織，時間在恍惚間流逝。在等待中，耳畔迴盪著先生溫柔的聲音：「想像黑暗中的燈塔，順著光芒，深呼吸⋯」可是痛楚如浪，一波比一波洶湧。當電鈴聲響，助產師們即時抵達。我獨自躺在瑜伽墊上，羊水無聲潰堤。
大家都說，生產疼痛會逐漸遺忘。但我想我不會忘記，那晚是如何從瑜伽墊上爬起，挨步走進廁所產池。原以為溫水能帶來慰藉，產池卻成了另一片無法施力的汪洋，難以名狀的窒息和反胃感。在一次比一次強烈的浪潮中，所有的堅持都化作臣服，所有的計畫都化作順遂。在我臉色逐漸慘白無力的情況下，助產師勸退了我放棄水中生產。
從浴室到臥房的五步路，竟成了一段天堂路。
凌晨3:59，嚕咖裹著完整的羊膜破繭而出，如一顆被海水溫柔包裹的珍珠。張著雙眼，不哭不鬧，彷彿早已熟悉這個世界。你是那樣的迷你，卻又如此的堅強。
39週+5，足月，2250公克的體重，用專屬於你的方式登入地球。沒有醫療介入、沒有施打疫苗、沒有保溫箱、沒有配方奶，只有袋鼠式親膚陪伴與全親餵。因為相信自然、相信宇宙力量的我們，儘管忐忑，仍願全然的交托。
看到你出生三天便露出的笑容，一週便懂抬腿排脹氣，未滿一個月便能在tummy time轉頭，剛滿五週的你，已開始抬頭能試著翻身。成長速度如此驚人的你，是如此努力。
回望一個半月前的那一夜，依然感到既奇幻又真實。先生口中那座燈塔，照亮了你來時的路，也明亮了我們新的生命篇章。無時不刻感謝你，選擇我們成為你的父母，一同經驗生命。
感謝先生的身心靈支持（還有攝影&聲音紀錄）
感謝玉惠與郁晴助產師一路以來的陪伴
內有生產過程，注意音量！
Contains birth process details, volume alert!
I still remember that night—a certain indescribable intuition drove us to complete the work for the Kuroshio exhibition before going to bed. (It was a piece about the sounds of the deep sea, seemingly foreshadowing the tempest I was about to face, though I didn’t know it then.) As soon as the work was finished, contractions began rolling in like waves. Holding onto a small hope that our child would be born a Sagittarius, we underestimated the clear signs of labor until the relentless pain became too overwhelming to ignore, prompting us to call the midwife for help.
Fatigue and contractions intertwined in the dead of night, and time passed in a haze. Amid the wait, my husband’s gentle voice echoed in my ears: “Imagine a lighthouse in the darkness, follow the light, and breathe deeply…” But the pain surged like waves, each one more intense than the last. When the doorbell rang, the midwives arrived just in time. I lay alone on the yoga mat as my water silently broke, cascading forth.
People often say that the pain of childbirth fades from memory. But I don’t think I’ll ever forget how I crawled up from the yoga mat that night and made my way step by step to the birthing pool in the bathroom. I had hoped the warm water would bring relief, but instead, the pool became another vast ocean where I struggled to find footing—an indescribable sense of suffocation and nausea engulfed me. As each wave of contractions grew stronger, all my resolve gave way to surrender, and all my plans turned to trust. Seeing my face grow paler and weaker, the midwives persuaded me to abandon the idea of a water birth.
The five steps from the bathroom to the bedroom became a path to paradise.
At 3:59 a.m., Luca emerged, wrapped in the intact caul of the amniotic sac, like a pearl gently cradled by the sea. Eyes wide open, calm and silent, as if already familiar with this world. You were so tiny, yet so strong.
At 39 weeks and 5 days, a full-term baby weighing 2,250 grams, you entered this world in your own unique way: without medical intervention, without vaccinations, without an incubator, without formula—only the warmth of kangaroo care and exclusive breastfeeding. Trusting in nature and the universe, despite our apprehension, we surrendered completely.
Seeing your smile emerge just three days after birth, your ability to lift your legs to relieve gas at one week old, turn your head during tummy time before a month old, and begin lifting your head and trying to roll over at just five weeks, your growth has been nothing short of remarkable. You are so determined.
Looking back at that surreal yet real night a month and a half ago, I still feel a sense of wonder. The lighthouse my husband spoke of illuminated the path for your arrival and brightened the new chapter of our lives. I am endlessly grateful that you chose us to be your parents, to experience life together.
Thank you to my husband for your physical, emotional, and spiritual support (as well as photography and sound recordings).
Thank you to midwives Yu-Hui and Yu-Ching for your unwavering companionship.
#HomeBirth