“Joyful” was the first word that came to mind when I was asked to describe my son’s birth. At that time, in 1987, I was a self-proclaimed “west-side woman,” a studious and conservative academic...wary of anything east of Granville Street (don’t laugh.) So, for me to start spouting words such as “joy,” “transformation,” “energy,” or “empowerment” was a major departure from what people expected of me - or of what I expected of myself.

I have to thank an outspoken Scottish woman who sat next to me at a mum’s group in 1983 for pushing me towards a different view of birth. She told me about a new midwifery pilot project at Grace Hospital which cared for 4-6 patients per month. “Well, as long as they’re British-trained nurse-midwives,” I said. That’s my upbringing talking. As the only Canadian-born child in a British family, I held anything “British” as the gold standard. So, that’s why I chose midwifery care. No deep-seated granola philosophy...just a blind trust of anything British. Silly of me - but the result was amazing.