Deep in my bones I am a Midwife. Through my body, out of my hands and out to the universe. These are my words and my declaration. My promise and my burden. I take all of it and carry it forward.
I am a Midwife, this word is charged
It germinates deep in my heart
It sprouts through my chest and up my throat
Erupts and blooms out of my mouth
A flaming crimson, impossible to cloak, flower
I am a Midwife, this word is charged
As it spills out, I can see the searching
The looking, beneath the surfaces, in the neurons and synapses
It seems familiar, somewhere mingled in the plasma
Then it is found; “Didn’t all of you get burned centuries ago?”
I am a Midwife, this word is charged
The flower transforms, becomes a glowing candle
Offering warmth and guidance, a harbor
A focal point in the storm that rages
The storm of birth, of blood, of cycles, of death, of life
I am a Midwife, this word is charged
Yes, men can be midwives
No, they are not called midhusbands
I am ready for the electricity the word evokes
The curiosity, disdain, the hostility, enthusiasm, the wonder
I am a Midwife, this word is charged
The candle transforms, becomes a dripping torch
Illuminating, burning, clearing, scorching and renewing
Strong against the onslaught
Standing as a beacon for the warriors
I am a Midwife, this word has a charge
I am charged
With the burden, the gift, the responsibility, the joy
I wear the flowers, I carry the candle and I am flanked by the torches
Sometimes I get burned, singed around the edges or to my core
Sometimes I am wrapped in Grace, my cracks filled with gold
All the time I am the Charge, I am a Midwife, this is my promise
Love it!
Wow, this really touched me deeply.
For many years, being a midwife was who I was in all things. I was warned that tying my sense of identity so firmly to my job was not necessarily a good thing but I couldn’t fathom a time when it might not be so. Fast forward to a series of traumatic events, some work-related and some not, and I was completely stripped of this sense of certainty. I felt raw and almost mortally wounded.
Over the last few years, I have had to rebuild every aspect of my life and identity. To remember who I am and who I want to be. Of all the things I have shed, one of the things that remained essentially me, although forever changed, is being a midwife. Whether I am working in the field actively or not, I am still a midwife as I carry the charge in every fibre and cell of my being.
Thank you for the magic of your words.
Angela, thank you for sharing such a powerful story! Your words have touched my soul and I am grateful.