A Stars Descent
She was a wildfire caught by the breeze, headed toward the shimmering mountain peak. Burning fiercely through rushes, bending deep into her knees, groaning down every squat and lean. Her flame nearing the break of a flowing river stream, dancing with her reflection in the wonder of her dreams. She jumped right in, as smoke she ascended. She was of the stars and sky. Seeking, expanding, in silence she surrounded the spirit of her son, descending to the other side.
A Poem for Abbey and Kyron – A Stars Descent.
The final hours of Abbey’s three-day labor, after days of weaving her way through the labyrinth of birth that was preparing her for her journey to come, as a mother to her son. Her doula by her side, on the birth sling pacing, pondering, showering, resisting and releasing her maiden, she birthed. Persistent despite a long journey. She listened and learned at every twist and turn through the winding of her birth labyrinth. Fear, trust, angst, frustration, grace, surrender, rest - Birth.
Suggesting to Abbey for her lay down for a while - “You are going to need to rest before this final stretch, you are so close, but you are absolutely exhausted.”
“It f*cking hurts when I lay down… I am going to have shower.” She groaned her avoidance, patiently supporting her into the shower, where heat rained upon her body and her wild tones deepened even more. Finally finding her way to the bed, she collapsed down, trembling as she rode the face of a few more waves and then… silence.
For two hours maybe more, the only thing to be heard were gentle breaths, smalls snores with the early Monday morning birds. A tap on my skin awoke me from my shallow sleep, “Something is happening”.
Returning with her partner to the bedroom, Abbey was coming down from another world. I stood behind her, on all fours she roared, “I feel like it’s coming out of my ass.” A glossy globe began to slowly stretch her open. “Your baby is coming my love, use your hand, you will feel him. You are so close now.”
Rush after rush baby Kyron emerged from her sacred gates, en-caul, his head submerged in the muddied water of life. Slippery, he slid between her thighs to be embraced by her warm, fumbling hands. A mother, her son, reborn. Together in a new way, unbreakable and wild.
REST. It was rest that supported Kyron to gently make his way down the birth canal. It was rest, that gave Abbey the final burst of strength within her powerful resilience to breathe and sound her baby into this world.
I loved this experience because it was such a contrast to the jarring instruction and coached pushing of the hospital births I have witnessed.
She was inspiring, a woman birthing in her sovereignty, owning her freedom and trusting in the knowledge of her own inner world, seeking nothing but loving support from her external world.
Your Doula, Dionne x
