Imprints: Begging the Waters

“Imprints” is where I share little snippets, flashbacks, and memories of the holy work I’ve been honored to partake in as a doula.  These are experiences that have imprinted my heart.

Some of these are bits from birth stories or letters to the babies.  Others are the visions that come to me randomly throughout my quiet moments and remind me that we are so succulently alive.  And so perfect.

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From the Birth of Max Orion

The waters that held her son were strong and healthy, remaining intact until three minutes before her son was born.

And sometimes we all want the strongest things in our life to give way, to break us open so that we can be reminded of the fortitude and resilience of Life and Birth.   So that we can howl at the moon as we ride the waves, cursing the fiery sun, screaming out the years and wounds.   We need to be able to release, to know that birth, life, and death are all transmutable.

And thus began her howling call, her “singing over the bones”, her begging to be released.

“Soon”, whispered the midwife “Very soon”.

Imprints: The Morphing Cub

‘Imprints” is where I share little snippets, flashbacks, and memories of the holy work I’ve been honored to partake in as a doula.  These are experiences that have imprinted my heart.

Some of these are bits from birth stories or letters to the babies.  Others are the visions that come to me randomly throughout my quiet moments and remind me that we are so succulently alive.  And so perfect.

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From Birth #8 (a teen birth)

She did it. Of course she did it, I remind myself. As my first teen client, I didn’t know what to expect. But what I certainly didn’t expect was that I’d bear witness to a cub morph into a lioness before my eyes; that this dragoness would reach inside, touch the flame of her very heart, and send that fire down into her belly. I admittedly didn’t expect her birth to be so…uneventful amidst the interventions. I couldn’t have predicted she’d be so strong, both in spirit and constitution and in the force in which she birthed her baby.

And while she birthed her first child upon that bed, I birthed a newfound sense of respect for birthing woman of all kind: a respect that bows its head in solemn greeting, wiping clean the slate of past and future births. A greeting without judgment, without knowing, without expectation. And invitation to simply behold.