Thursday, July 5, 2007

I come in the room with my ready hands. You are tired, your body sagging with fatigue, bathed in the sweat of your long day's work. Your lids are closed, your mouth open slightly as you inhale and exhale in a most efficient fashion. I reach out my hand and touch you. You look up and smile. And sink back into yourself as the next wave comes over you. I settle down on my haunches, and watch you labor. Watch you work. Watch you move toward motherhood. My breathing matches yours. I hum with your vocalizations. Massage your tense muscles. Soften the fear, strengthen the faith. This is my calling, to be here with you. You do this hard birthing work, and I sit with you, next to your family, your friends, your lover, and hold tight to my belief in you. To my belief in birth. I honor your strength, applaud your hard work, encourage you in those moments of despair. I listen to your baby and remind you that he is strong too, and is a part of this voyage. My midwife arms support you, my midwife eyes are vigilant, my midwife soul accompanies you. And finally, my midwife hands catch your baby and hold him on your belly, in that precious moment when you become a mother.