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“He allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.”
Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

Maternidad La Luz, the birth center where I studied and interned as a student midwife, was a magical place. During the 2-3 weekly 24 hour shifts, the student midwives would sleep upstairs from the clinic, always on call to jump down the rickety, one lane staircase to meet a client banging at the front door. Or sometimes, we would hear honking and leap down the stairs, grab the “car birth box”, and meet a couple on the street. Our days were full of hard work, birthing, documenting, filing, massaging, cleaning, blood drawing, learning and caring for others. By the end of the shift, our hearts were full, our minds overloaded and our bodies exhausted. After a long day of seeing clients, followed by an all nighter caring for a mama and baby, I would stop above the staircase. There, in the student sleeping quarters, was a poster. “I am a woman giving birth to myself” it stated, with a black and white painting of a woman kneeling on all fours, her head resting on the floor. I had never birthed a baby before, but I recognized her stance, this birth. Her body spoke of deep and silent prayer, a reckoning and humbling, the challenging pathway to birth.

I would regard her, when my heart felt it could not hold more, my hands were tired, when my mind could not seem to complete all the paperwork, or when I was reeling from a hard birth.  She held all the mystery, and all the respect I had for the beautiful mothers who were gifting me the opportunity to serve them in birth. I would remember, that even though I had not given birth to a baby, I was sister to the mothers I assisted and I was sister to all humanity. We all share the challenge of growing, of making it till morning, of birthing our light, the gifts we bring to this world. And there are hard, even scary moments in the process. That these moments are a gift, and the most profound and heart opening to be experienced.  Regarding this image of a courageous birthing woman kept me going, helped me hold onto my faith and purpose.

Now I am a mother, and I understand birth and motherhood in a way that only a mother can. I slept less the first year of my son’s life than I did as a midwifery student. I worked harder than I ever had before. I laugh sometimes, when I think about all our culture’s emphasis on preparing for a baby’s birth. Preparation is wonderful of course, and yet, what comes after that perfectly happy ever after moment? Sure, the contractions are over, mom holds her baby, the photographer takes a photo, mom is happy, dad is happy, baby is sleeping, but then what?

Well, ask any mother, and you will hear of the incredible shifting that occurs next. Becoming a parent is the most heart opening experience I, and many other parents, can imagine. And yet, it is HARD. I remember thinking, “the most precious being in existence is now in my arms-how will I parent him? How will I protect him? I love him so much my heart hurts…I don’t want him to move away when he grows up!” (Yes, I thought this the first day I met my son). And then there is this.. The experience of waking every hour at night to a sick or colicky baby, the pools of breastmilk that make puddles in the bed, on the floor, on your baby daddy, the constant needs of a newborn and the loss of time to pursue creative or artistic pursuits, a career, self care, … the list goes on… I remember feeling like never before had I been so in touch with my body, heart and spirit and yet never before had I been so physically and emotionally exhausted to the point that after caring for my baby, I just didn’t find anything left for me. It is a big adjustment. So often I would think of my labor. Remember the challenges of back to back contractions, the moments when I felt I couldn’t go on without a ten minute rest, but did anyway, the incredible unknown of hearing I was fully dilated and ready to push my baby out, the true experience of the “ring of fire”. I remember thinking, this truly is a ring of fire! I am jumping with faith into the unknown, and it is burning away all I previously knew about life!  And there is nowhere I would rather be, and nothing I would rather be doing THAN EXACTLY THIS!

To become a mother is to live as a beautiful Phoenix, gracefully accepting death and birth as aspects of the whole. We may not speak of this in our culture, but a mother, whether she is having her first child or her tenth, may find herself letting go, or setting aside aspects of herself or life, dreams, desires, for she is now directing her attention to her child. Our singularity is replaced by deep connection.   A mother’s love for her child may motivate and sustain her, may cause her to perform impossible feats, like lifting cars with her bare hands (a mother actually did this to save her child once!). And…..and…..as mothers, can we admit to feeling loss and even grieving sometimes, over what we have left behind?  Can we hold each other and be a witness for each other, as we experience the MANY emotions common to parents?  I believe that there is value in honoring this loving sacrifice, and the many emotions connected, as it is this sacrifice that not only mothers, but fathers, make worldwide to honor new life.

As Phoenixes, may we have strong love with our partners and friends to keep us laughing in the hard moments and warm us in the hard times. And, may we have the strength to hold ourselves, invite the spirit to hold us, when outside comfort seems unavailable. May we let the beauty of our child’s smile, laugh, eyes, gentle touch, fill us to completion again and again!  May we remember that infancy is its own special time, and that mothers and their children become more independent with time.  May we have quiet moments to revisit the cherished parts of our previous life and find ways to integrate the most important aspects in the NOW. May we learn to nurture ourselves as mothers in a fierce way we never knew was possible before. May we extend the open heart we have for our child’s learning to ourselves, as we stumble along our parent path. May we love sleep, good food, quiet moments, warm tea, girls night out, our lovers, our own child, all children, the spirit of life in a way we never imagined possible before. This is mother becoming… I am Woman, Giving Birth to Myself. This is a hard labor. This takes guts. This is a Path of Great Love.  And the Outcome is so Glorious!