From a dear client whose baby was born in the pandemic….nearly 6 months ago.

Telling a birth story in a coherent chronological fashion is not only nearly impossible, but it is almost an injustice. This is because in labor words fall short, and reality and time are suspended.

What I know is this…my water broke in a Hollywood style gush on my yoga bolster at 6 PM on Tuesday March 23…13 days before my due date.

From that moment to meeting my baby was 43 hours of a lot of dreams coming to fruition on a tide of emotions that just kept rising. My labor took my breath away literally and spiritually. I had been hoping for a baby for over a decade… and with all of the planning and preparation, learning and anticipation, in the end the surprises were the best parts.

I have a very complex intensity to the way I plan…and for something this enormous my reading, exercises and preparation were extensive….But so much of birth is away from the cerebral where instinct takes over. 

There is so much I want to say to you, the soon-to-be birthing mama. Do the work of letting go of as many expectations as you can. You will find under all of those sedimentary layers of birth myths, advice, fears and uncertainty…. a deep unshakable trust in yourself.

I am not saying to let go of preparation – I was happy with all I had in my labor moment: photos, cloth, candles, plants, snacks, comfort items, team members, and yoga poses… but fully accepting I could do it without all of those things and without expectations served me the best. 

I trusted so deeply in my team and in myself- my first act of motherhood was letting go as much as possible and making space for 43 unforgettable hours of dance, tears, yoga, water, light, loons, squeezing, screaming, pushing, laughing, food, nurses, hands and miraculous trembling surprises. 

My birth story is one of terror and elation, of stubbornness and surrender, of water and thirst, of laughter and tears, of focus and dreaminess, of sterile edges and wild places. 

Everything that can happen in life can happen in birth but you are standing on this spiritual border. The intensity and enormity of this place swallows you whole, and, if you let it, transforms you. 

My son Walker was born safe and healthy. I was and I am overwhelmed with love and gratitude.