Miracle of Birth

Almost 20 years ago, a dear friend asked me to be her labor coach when she delivered her second child. The experience was so profoundly spiritual, that the only way I could speak of it afterward was in a poem. Here it is:

The Birth

Before dawn the phone rang.
It's time, she said,
And I rose in great excitement
And made ready.

The room was hushed, the light dimmed,
Peace filled this sacred space,
The quiet room,
The birthing place.

A wave engulfed her body
And I, knowing nothing,
Saw my hands move to a place on her,
Felt myself breathe into them,
But did not know until the wave had passed
That my hands were exactly where she needed them.
Though I knew not, Soul knew and acted.
What you did was wonderful, she breathed,
Don't stop.

We worked in that silent bond all day.
There was no time, only love and being
As she did her work and I did mine
In that space of calm dignity and purpose.
Calm even at the end, waiting peacefully
Between powerful waves which moved through her
Out into the waiting world.

The embodiment of Soul
The sacred moment of emergence through the veil
Emergence into the worlds of form—
For this she labored
For this we bonded in love and purpose.
With each push and primal sound
The moment came closer
Until the final endless timeless push
And he was here
Visible
Audible
Tangible
A new home for Soul.

The temple of birthing filled
With relief
With rejoicing
With love sublime and unconditional
Of the mother for the child
Of the father for them both
Of us all for one another
For the gift given and received.

And the temple of birthing filled
With Soul.

So it is we birth ourselves
After long gestation in initiation's womb.
The sound is heard in the inner ear—
The time is here.

With great waves of opening and change we become
Mother
Child
And Father/God,
Loving our smaller self
As it labors to birth the purified vehicle for Soul.

Once begun, it will not stop;
We cannot return to what we were before.
Our gestation is complete,
Nothing lies ahead but birth and choice.

Resist in fear of pain to come,
Push it back,
Beg God to stop the unstoppable,
Or embrace the pain of letting go
Surrender and melt into the birth-waves.
Become the father who loves the mother
Who loves the child in the circle of God's love.
Become the temple of birthing
And fill with Soul.