Children are a force.  They show us just how fast life is really moving.  With their ever changing needs, naps, and skills, they challenge the parts of us that want to cling to the past.  Phoenix doesn't know that he's changing fast.  All he knows is that he wants to stand, he wants to walk, he wants to explore his surroundings.  He wants to move in ever wider circles away from his mother.  And I watch, at one moment delighting in his new found independence, and at the same moment mourning the baby that he isn't anymore.

Mindfulness.  I think all that we can hope for is moments.   Today I watched as Phoenix and his friend saw a helicopter for the first time, and their different reactions to it.  One showed awe, excitement, and the other a little bit of terror.  Each time the strange metal bird flew by, their reactions intensified a little bit.  Seeing the world through their eyes for a moment.  All new.  all present.  The mind "full" only of that one thing.

An analogy Eileen shared with us in Mindful Moments class is that our minds are basically like dogs.  She explained how meditation is like trying to teach a dog to sit.  Sit. stay, good girl.  And how  our thoughts are like balls being tossed over that poor dog's nose.  Some thoughts are really enticing, and the dog (mind) wants to get up and chase the ball (thought), and the trainer keeps the dog sitting (meditation).  Sit, stay, good girl.  And even as Eileen spoke so beautifully about the mind and it's yearnings, I felt my mind just trying to even take in what she was saying as the balls of my own thoughts were tossed repeatedly over my head.  Sit, stay, good girl.  "hmmm should I leave this class early and go to the pool party with my moms group?" oh, crap.  Sit, stay, good girl.  "what was that again, Eileen?  The mind finds itself either in a state of attachment, aversion, or... what was the other one?"   "Equanimity."  Oh yeah, that one.  Of course I forgot that one.

Equanimity.   "The quality of being calm and even-tempered, composure."   How often are we actually there?  The masters, Eileen said, are simply those that live the most time in equanimity.  I think our children are masters.  I think of Phoenix, in his last blissful months without language, without a running commentary about his own life, and I think... slow down. sit. stay... good girl.  Enjoy the teeth, enjoy the milestones, and trust each moment as it comes... and more importantly, as it goes.  The train is not going to slow down, but our minds can.  Stay.  Stay... One tiny moment at a time.   Ride the train on the front car looking forward.

I am so grateful for these moments.  And for the gift of living with a child, the best teacher of all in mindfulness and being present.

This week I had the honor of attending another birth.  This is the second birth I have attended since the birth of Phoenix, and the 132^nd birth I have attended total.  I have always stood in awe of birth, and of women and their power to give birth.  In the past, when a woman would hit that wall, the “I can’t do this!  This is crazy” kind of wall, I would speak to her with all the passion, dedication, sweetness, and encouragement I could muster.  I would tell her that this was the moment, the eye of the needle, and that although it felt impossible, she could do it.  She would do it, and she would meet her baby.  I would speak firmly and calmly telling her that although every part of her felt like it would break open, that indeed she would be made stronger by her birth, and by facing this moment of impossibility.   That was before I had felt it myself.

This time, as I looked into this woman’s eyes, as she entered “transition” as the childbirth classes call it, everything was different.  Here she was, in the middle of the strongest surges of her labor, clutching her husband’s hand, seeking a comfortable position (which is impossible to find at that time, by the way) and looking to me, “the expert”, for words of wisdom.   “This is horrible,” she said to me, matter of factly.   My voice went silent.  Instead of speaking to her with phrases like “You are a goddess” and “you can do this,” or “every contraction brings you closer to your baby,”  all I could find in my heart to say,  was… quietly “I know.”  This was a phrase I always avoided as a doula before I was a mom, myself.  I would say many other things, but I reserved that one, because truthfully I didn’t know.  Perhaps I was worried if I used that phrase,  a client would yell back “what do you know?  Nothing!”  I understood, I empathized, I had seen much of it before, I knew all about it from a witnessing perspective.  But I didn’t know.  Until now.  Now I know.

Looking at her, I was transported to my own birth, to that moment, that moment of impossibility.  The moment you realize the only way out of all these crazy “sensations” is to go into that place that hurts the most and have a baby, and that the last thing you want to do is to go into that place that hurts the most and have a baby.  It’s like you’re on the top of the craziest amusement park ride you’ve ever seen, and suddenly they’ve locked the gate behind you, and the only way out is down the ride.  And although the voices around you, your partner, your midwife, are lifelines for sure, and their hands are trying to reach out to help you, you are the only one on the ride.  Actually, you are the ride.  The ride is happening in your uterus.  And no matter where you go, the ride is coming with you.  And what seemed originally like a really great idea, now seems like a trap, closing tighter and tighter around you.

Back in real time, my client shifted her breathing, and dropped into the intensity.  I awoke from my dream, and tried to remember the things that helped me in that moment.  One of my midwive’s words came to me, “As big as this is going to get, Katie, you’re going to get bigger.  So let it get as big as it’s going to get.”  I tried to think what else I would have wanted to hear in that moment.  My voice began to return. Not with any grand claims to the power of women, and rites of passage, and It’s all worth it, but simply, truthfully.  Gently I reassured her that “Yes, this part sucks, but it’s temporary.”

Less than an hour later, my client, with the strength of a lion, went through the eye of the needle, and pushed her baby out into the world.  The sweetest, tiniest, most perfect little baby boy lay close on his mother’s chest, while daddy and grandma wept, and we welcomed one more impossibly perfect human into the world.

“My tailbone hurts,” she said. 

“I know.” I said.

         Today I was honored as a finalist in the First Annual Colorado Leading Lady Awards.   As I sat in that room full of over 150 women entrepreneurs and their families and friends, I was filled with gratitude and awe.  Awe at how far we have come as women, and gratitude for all the people that help us everyday to go farther. 

            When my grandmother Myrm was alive, her career aspirations were considered to be trivial at best, and a betrayal of her marriage and family at worst.  The next generation had their pick of “appropriate” jobs for women: Secretary, Teacher, Nurse,  and maybe Cleaning Lady.  After that, a generation of women stormed into the corporate world, guns blazing, blasting through all the glass ceilings they could.  And following that war zone, a few women started to voice their desires to be mothers, to be home makers, to be stay at home moms, or Work at home moms… So now, we have this phenomenal choice… to be moms, to be business owners, to be all of it.  To create the work we want, in the way we want it.   Today, women are not just “allowed” to work, but often “encouraged and needed to work”.  Women are a vital, essential part of the workforce and our economy, not just in war time, or down times, but for all time.  I am grateful to the women who carved the way so that I can get up each day and create my business in a way that serves women, and mothers, and my family at the same time. 

            When I opened the first Yo Mama Yoga in Santa Monica, it was out of necessity.  I couldn’t stand being told by one more Yoga studio owner that my students’ strollers were “in the way,”  or that the cheerios were making a mess on the studio floor, or that the pregnant women needed to stop chatting so much after class and clear out so the “power flow” class could begin on time.  I wanted to create a space for moms in the spirit of what moms were all about.  I wanted a studio that greets the frazzled late-comer with spit up all over her shirt,  and welcomes her with warmth and acknowledgement that she made it at all!  I wanted a center that incorporates nursing, diaper changes, tears and meltdowns into the yoga.  I wanted a studio that understands that sometimes the conversation after a yoga class is more important than the class itself.  Because let’s face it, moms and moms-to-be need a moment of zen more than anyone.

             I am so grateful to have been able to realize this dream, first in Santa Monica, and now in my home town of beautiful Boulder, CO.  I am grateful to my mother for the $2000.00 loan that started it all.  I am grateful to my husband, who helped me paint my first studio on our second date, and continues to infuse the business with his huge heart.  I am grateful to my sister, for her inspiring pregnancy and birth, and for the constant joy I receive from seeing her raise her sweet amazing son (known to the family yoga class as Michael Jackson because of his ongoing Halloween costume).  I am grateful to my best friend Dawnia for her constant support and being on the other end of way too many meltdown phone calls.  I am grateful to all of my teachers and coaches who have guided me towards my higher truth, and my path of heart.  I am also deeply grateful to my amazing team:  Kelly, Amanda, Brittney and all the teachers and practioners at Yo Mama that make it all happen.

           Finally, I am grateful to all the women who have walked through the doors of Yo Mama Yoga and into my life.  Through you all, I have been so inspired and so filled with awe.  I have gotten to share in the joys:  The moment a woman conceives after trying for so long, the moment a woman faces her fears to give birth powerfully, the moment a mom and dad meet their new baby, the moment a mom finally gets a baby to latch on to breastfeed, against all odds, and of course, that holy grail of motherhood, the moment a baby sleeps through the night!  I have witnessed the strength of single moms, the different kinds of families forging their way, and the sweet faces of so many babies!

            I have also shared the depth of the  losses along the way, and the heartbreaking, winding path that motherhood can take.  I have seen a woman continue to come to prenatal yoga week after week out of pure intention, struggling to get pregnant, and then struggling to keep those pregnancies, and I have shared in her triumph to finally hold her sweet babe in her arms.  I have seen the woman who chooses to adopt discovering that love goes way beyond biology.  And I have seen the mother open her heart again after a devastating loss, and welcome a new baby into her heart.

            And through all of this, I have also gotten to share my own journey.   My struggle to find the right partner, my struggle to accept the transition to being a mother, my struggle to balance the business, my new sweet little man, and my own mind amidst it all.

            In yoga last week I taught a pose in the Mommy and Me class, we call “the one armed warrior.”  The moms hold babies in one arm and do warrior with the other.  And that is what we are.  WE are warriors.  WE can do more with one arm, and half of our brain power, in the two hour time period when our babies are sleeping, than many people can do in a week. 

            Thank you so much for sharing your journeys, your babies, and your stories with me.   It is my goal that Yo Mama be way more than a yoga studio.  It is a home for you, to bring it all, the good, the bad, the exhausted, and the exhilarated.  To be celebrated and empowered as the women warriors that we are, choosing each day to show up for our children and ourselves and co-create a life that is focused on what is good, what is real, and what is joyful.  In a time as uncertain as our current one, it is a great joy to spend my days hearing the laughter of children. I truly honor and recognize the heroic journey that we are on together, and I thank you for walking this path with me.  Namaste.

"Mother love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible."
--Marion C. Garretty

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new."
--Rajneesh

There is a divine impossibility to motherhood.  That is just part of the design.   We will never have it all together, the perfectly organized diaper bag, the "schedule" of naps and nighty night times, both baby and ourselves clean and presentable at all times. Our kids will not fit perfectly into our lives as they once were.  That is not their purpose, nor ours.  Kids are LIFE.  They interrupt, they intervene, they are inappropriate and inconsistent.  And guess what?  So is life.

I am striving for balance, without really knowing what that will look like now.  I notice that the days where I am able to surrender, miracles happen.  Phoenix will put himself down for a long juicy nap, and I will find myself sitting at the computer, doing exactly what I want to be doing. Meals get made, vitamins taken, and lots of smiles and laughter.  And other days where I decide to ENFORCE a nap time or some other "schedule," he and I both struggle and nurse and cry and try to squeeze ourselves into my idea.  His ideas are usually better, clearer, and easier to accomplish.  My favorite of his new ideas is the "let's stare at each other and laugh" idea.  I am convinced if the world leaders sat down and practiced this together, world peace would be the only possibility. 

Phoenix has such a simple, complete joy in just being here.  He doesn't need anything special (besides a dry diaper and a warm breast), and he doesn't worry.  He's not thinking, "hmmm... i'm 75th percentile for weight, what does that mean about me?" or "I wonder when I'll roll from my tummy to my back.  Everyone else my age is doing this."  He doesn't compare, he doesn't fret about the state of the world, He doesn't care what others have.  He cares only about the eyes looking into his, the hands holding him, and the love he is recieving and giving.

I want to be more like my son.  I want to wake up each morning so excited to be here that I can't stop kicking my legs into the air.  I want to find such delight in my husband's face that I could stare at it for fifteen minutes, happy to just trace the lines of his smile.  I want to be so excited about my lunch that I bury my face into my meal and sigh with full body contentment when I'm done.  I want to spend my day with joy learning new things every minute, and working so hard to master things that at the end of the day, I sink into the most delicious sleep.

 I am learning about Phoenix.  I am learning about motherhood.  As Phoenix learns to roll over, and laugh, and smile.  I am learning to let go, to surrender, and to release of the illusive concept of "Balance."  To realize that balance is not some static fixed point that you arrive at and cling to.  To strive for balance is to be constantly open to change.  Just as the yogi struggles in tree pose, constantly adjusting ever so slightly to the right or the left, being willing to lean on the wall, or just fall over sometimes, and get up and try again.  Day by day, Phoenix and I will discover what it means to be in balance.

As I finish this entry, I hear the sounds of an awakening boy...

This blog entry brought to you by Phoenix's 1:00 and 4:00 naps.

Handing the baby to John, I made some chamomile tea and took it into the bathroom, where I ran the HOTTEST bath ever. (now that I'm not pregnant, no more concern about temperature!) I put Lavender, Rose and Chamomile essential oils in some Epsom Salts and poured those in. I put on a Classical Piano CD, and I lit a candle. Still crying, I dropped into the water and let it all go. All my wanting to be the perfect mother, my thoughts that I am somehow already contributing to my son's future need for therapy, my wanting to prove to my partner that I am the earth mother sexy goddess AND supreme baby whisperer of all time, my thinking that I can keep it all together, my thinking that I'll never have it all together again, my thinking that my baby is so tiny and perfect and too pure for this world, my thinking that my baby is cranky and colicy and I will never sleep again, my thinking that this motherhood thing was a crazy thing to do, my thinking that it's the only thing worth doing in life,... all these thoughts I let melt with the lavender and rose and swirl away into the bathwater. Chopin's Nocturne, with it's sweet melancholy sound crept into my heart and I allowed myself to not be a mother or a wife or a business owner or anything, but to just be a woman in the bathtub, with a lot of feelings. I brought my mind to the basics, sweet smell, nice music, nice hot water. Breath in, breath out. This too shall pass. Both the unbelievable sweetness of this newborn, and the crazy moments of difficulty of these first weeks, all will pass all too quickly. breath in, breath out. Candle, music, lavender, water, breath.

Strangely, when I came out of the bathroom, it felt like hours had passed.  I missed my men.  I couldn't wait to see my baby again. I came upon them in the sunroom, John had been doing some baby massage on Phoenix (who immediately calmed down when I gave him to his Dad) and both seemed content and happy. "Are you sure you had a full reset, honey?" John asked me, "That was only 15 minutes."

"I missed you guys." was all I could say. Still a little jangly, a little tender around the edges, but ready to be a mother again, I snuggled up with my baby, and knew we were on the other side of the Three Week Wall.

I am writing this blog with pride, excitement and hopefully some inspiration for those of you that are still awaiting the privilege of giving birth!

John and I welcomed our little angel on Tuesday may 12th at 2:02am. After a weekend of "practice" contractions, (my midwife called them practice, but they sure felt real) early labor began Monday morning around 6am. John and I labored together for a while, my midwife came at 8am and checked me. I was 5cm! I was so excited, and thought we'd have a baby soon.  Active labor began around noon. After a full day and evening of walking, chanting, squatting, and a just a little bit of swearing, I started pushing around 1am on Tuesday. Our baby boy was born at 2:02am, in our home.  I can say that nothing, not even all my experience at other people's births, could have prepared me for the miracle of feeling our son come out into John's arms.

And what surprise to welcome a SON!  we were all so convinced that little Sophia was coming!  And even more surprising was his size!  I am glad I didn't know he was over 8 pounds!  Where was he??

The birth was more amazing than I could have ever imagined.  I definitely came up against some intense edges, and lost my faith more than once.  It was challenging, for sure, but so worth it. And John was a phenomenal partner through the whole thing. Our midwives Elizabeth and Katherine were the perfect guardians of the birth. I have never in my life felt more powerful than I did holding our little son in my arms. I have so much awe for women and the birth process. And I am so grateful that Phoenix had such a peaceful welcome into this world. 

Phoenix is almost two weeks old now, and we are more in love every minute. My body is recovering well, John and I are getting used to following the daily rhythms of a newborn. We call our "to-do" list a "to-maybe" list and we're lucky to check off one thing a day. but it is a magical time. the "baby moon" is really worth carving out time for. This is actually the first time I've been in front of a computer in two weeks.  (truly a miracle)  I am enjoying the softness of being a mother.  For a longtime businesswoman, it is something to have my daily responsibilities reduced to such basics.  But beautiful as well.  I feel so human.

So congrats to all the mamas that have given birth, and for those of you still pregnant, you are in for an amazing ride.

Sending you all much love,

Katie, John, and Phoenix Orion

We had our open house today. It was a whirlwind for me, felt a bit like our wedding, trying to manage logistics as well as connect with each person. One of the highlights for me was teaching the family yoga class in the middle of the day. Looking out on this sea of joyful faces, from 3 months old all the way to Grandma, and seeing them enjoy the yoga and each other. Seeing the moms with babes in arms, and the mother of a tribe of three bigger kids, all laughing and having fun. I felt so completely fulfilled.

It was also powerful to see all the practioners, teachers, and therapists that are part of the Yo Mama Family. I can’t believe how quickly I am finding such warm, caring people to be a part of this. I loved seeing people wander dreamily out of the massage and facial rooms, clearly nurtured.

I am so grateful to be here in Boulder, where my open house not only includes the new people that I have met, but people that I have known my whole life. After the screening of the film “Birth Day”, we led a small discussion, and there in the crowd were the faces of the people that I first experienced birth with, David Butler and Joyce Long. Joyce gave birth to Elise, when I was 13 years old, and I had the honor of being there. Joyce brought the pictures of the birth, and there I was, with a bad perm and a sense of awe in my face. And now Elise (who is 20) is hoping to get home in time to see my baby being born. Life is such a rich circle, such a journey.

It’s nice when that journey has a few life-long companions. It’s good to be home. And to feel like Yo Mama is really starting to be a home, not just for me, but for many.

Thank you, thank you. All of you that came out today, and all of you that come through the doors of the studio, and bring your bellies, your babies, and your hearts into my life. My heart, belly and life feel full tonight.

My deepest gratitude to Amanda, Lauren, Shanna, Maggie, Jen, Ruth, Caroline, Sydney, Ariana, Whitney, Sonja, Erika, Kelly, Martine, Mom, and my sweet husband, John. Special thanks to Kirsten Boyer for her lovely photography.

Let me explain the title of this entry. John’s study was completely decorated by him, and included some 70’s era educational posters about Propaganda. One of these posters was about Hitler. As I tried to picture the baby sleeping in this room, that was the one picture I knew had to go. Educational or not, my baby is not sleeping under the eye of Hitler. So Hitler fell, and was replaced with bunnies, lambs, and some artwork that John created of Robots and Ships. Much more cosy. We lit a night light in the corner of the room, and it felt as if our baby’s little soul was already there.

Each night we read Goodnight Moon, and we sing You are My Sunshine and we dream of this little one. I cannot believe we are 6 short weeks away from the due date! Every kick signals the reality of this little person entering our lives. One of the most important people in the world to us. And now that person has a sweet little place to sleep. Goodnight room, Goodnight bunnies, Goodnight Ships flying over the moon. Goodbye Hitler, leaving the room.

This is a poignant time for this question, as I am 16 weeks right now, myself. I would say that it is a three point focus: Physical, emotional/mental, and spiritual.

First I will address the one thing that I believe addresses all three:
Prenatal yoga. obviously I am biased, but I would say this is one of the most useful practices you can find.  You are building community, strengthening your body, balancing your mind, and Connecting to spirit. It doesn't get much better than that.

Now on to the individual things: I offer the best two pieces of advice for each area. On the physical health side, I would offer the following:

1. Walking: One midwife I know recommends 5 miles a day, 5 days a week. Of course you build up to that in early pregnancy, but shoot to be walking that much by 26 weeks, and walk that much through the third trimester.
2. Diet: Eating protein (nuts, legumes, meat, dairy, tofu, etc. from varied sources), getting minerals (5 veggies a day all different colors of the rainbow, fruits, greens), avoiding refined sugar, processed food, and empty carbs (white rice, starchy foods, etc.) and get your FOOD BASED ORGANIC prenatal vitamins, but don't depend on these for nutrients. Look for foods rich in folic acid and minerals and eat those, don't just pop a pill.

On the emotional/mental side of things, two suggestions

1. really learn to stay in the now. the mind can be your best friend or your worst enemy in pregnancy. If you are first trimester, don't be worrying about the birth, or wishing the baby would move. If you are second, don't be wishing the baby was here, if the baby's here, don't be wishing it would sleep through the night already. Be exactly where you are, as you are there. Breathe, learn to watch the mind. Byron Katie's "the work" is very useful, as is meditation, especially with teachers like Pema Chodron (start where you are is an amazing book)
2. accept the emotions like weather fronts. Know they are not always as real as they feel. Hormones are real. Emotions can be very exaggerated by these things. Learn when to say, "wow, this is intense, but not real. I'm going to go to bed and think about all of this tomorrow."

On the spiritual side, I would offer the following:

1. Stay close to God. Remember you are a creator, you are creating a life, just as God is a creator. Whatever your relationship is, or what your beliefs are, cultivate and enrich that relationship.
2. Really find out what faith means. Hope is "I hope this all works out" Faith is "it is already worked out." live in faith more and more, strengthen it like a muscle.

Please describe a meditation, visualization or favorite practice/exercise for building strength?

Wow, that is tough. I do a thing called "keep ups" that I learned from Gurmukh, which involves taking an exercise/usually yogic, called a Kriya, and continuing it for between 4 and 10 minutes. It is usually both physically and mentally difficult to do. I incorporate it into my yoga classes to practice finding that edge, and pushing through to the other side.

The other program I like a lot is Laurie Dorman's Hyp Birth. It is genius. It really makes a difference in the difficulty and intensity and length of labor.

And lastly , a simple meditation that I love for pregnant women is this: meditation to remove fear of the future:

Sit comfortably. Cradle your left hand in your right, right thumb across the left palm. Bring the left thumb over the right, and tuck that little x of thumbs into your heart center. Breathe deeply feeling the heart rise and fall. This can be done also with your partner sitting behind you (with back support for the partner) and holding your hands in theirs. (you do the mudra, they do not) THis practice is amazing because we take our own feminine, yin, slightly neurotic side, and we cradle it with our own masculine, linear, containing side. We bring the balance into our own being. Having the partner around us just intensifies that support. So we have our own little fears (left hand) cradled by our own strength (right hand) and then that whole package contained by our partner.

Which brings me to the last point. Support. You are not doing this alone. Just because baby is your little secret, and in your body, don't be afraid to ask for support from your community. I had a celebration at the 120th day of my pregnancy with my friends and family, and my partner said to all of them "this is where we commit to supporting, nurturing and inspiring Katie during her pregnancy." I of course cried, and just felt amazing. Don't be afraid to let the support in. It is not that you are deficient in any way, it is that what is being required of you is extraordinary. And your partner, family, and greater community are there to help you give birth to yourself as mother, as you give birth to your child.

Pregnancy is the most amazing miracle, and yet as common as life itself. It can feel like you are the first and only woman to feel all of these feelings, but all mothers have felt them with you. Find a good community of like minded mamas and a good care provider (hopefully midwife, or super compassionate ob) and move with the strength of all the people behind you, supporting you, inspiring you, and guiding you towards your baby!

First three months of pregnancy were a neurotic, tear-filled, physically draining time. The worst part was being away from John. Back in LA, after only a week together with the news, I felt alone, panicked, and even my body reacted with negativity. I had a general feeling of panic. I was worried when I had symptoms, I was worried that I wasn’t having enough symptoms. I felt tired, but not nauseous. I felt protective of my space, and like I wanted to be taken care of. I felt small and huge. I felt like I had to pee every 10 minutes, and how was I possibly going to get through ten more months of this. I felt like I knew nothing. I felt like I knew too much. I felt anxious to my core. My heart felt fast. My mind felt slow. I wanted to nap forever, or just watch a bunch of TV.

But now, As I sit here tonight, I have chosen not only my midwife, but my place of birth. I feel a little pang of fear as I make that decision, as I step boldly into the woman that I know I am. I choose to trust birth, I choose to trust myself, I choose to trust God. I choose to trust in all that I know. In all that I will know, eventually.

It is the unfolding, the letting go of one trapeze bar and flying in the in between, waiting for the hands of the partner to find me.

For me the journey was not as simple as I thought it would be. I found that I trusted home birth completely for others, but somehow faced with my own pregnancy, questioned everything I knew. I met with midwives at 4 weeks, again at 8 weeks, and finally toured the hospital which really made the decision start to become clear. Finally today, at 16 and a half weeks, I met my midwife. I had that “ah-ha” moment, that clear sense, this is the person I want to share this journey with. I just wanted to curl up with her on a couch and snuggle. I figured that was a good sign.

And as we spoke, and as she told me her philosophy and answered my questions, and listened to my fears, I began to laugh, and to feel still, and to feel like a mama. And to feel like myself. I am ready to do this, I am ready to enjoy this. I am ready for the mystery, I am ready for the unknown.

One thing that is funny about all of this is how our midwife was not in my initial search. Her name was not in my consciousness. Then suddenly it was. And here we are. And I think, where was she? Why didn’t I hear about her? In the past week (since setting up the appt with her) we have met two other moms who have worked with her, and I’ve heard amazing things about her. So where was she? Why did I live for 10 weeks without any care, not sure of who I should work with?

And it came to me. In Los Angeles, it would have been too easy to throw all my trust into Davi Khalsa, the amazing midwife. And if I had found Elizabeth right away, I would have been able to do the same. In the interim before finding her, I really had to grow to trust home birth, myself, and birth in general.

Now, she can appear, and I can feel ready.