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She made me a midwife

Updated: Oct 10, 2020

I knocked gently on the door, listening for the quiet “entra” I’d grown used to over the last fourteen hours. Gingerly pushed open the door and eased my body into the room, not wanting the bustle of the new day’s happenings to invade the serenity of her post-birth space. They were on the bed, mother propped up with pillows behind her, and baby, new new, asleep in her arms. I caressed baby’s tiny hand, being careful not to wake her because she was cranky earlier and took a while to settle down to sleep. Her mother was my client over the last twenty-four hours and, in that short time, we connected deeply in the shared experience of a path walked together - she as life-giver on her journey to bring her little one earthside, me as supporter of their process.


Veronica looked at me and smiled. I smiled back my “tengo que salir ahora pero estas en buenos manos” (I have to leave now but you’re in good hands). We hugged and she whispered “Aisha gracias por todos. Dios te bendiga!” (Aisha thank you for everything. God bless you!). I wished I could have locked eyes with her baby girl again, as we had when she was about an hour old, and communicate all my gratitude for the enormous gift she gave me. Her mother thinks I’ve given something they should be thankful for, and I’m humbled by her thanks, but in truth, I don’t think she could be more grateful than I am…


… first, to the mother for allowing me to be with her as she made her transition into motherhood, again, and second, to baby for making me a midwife!



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