October 2, 1940

Hear my mother's voice

Maurice was born
during the Battle of Britain
mum
gave birth to him in a basement
nurses helping
having walked to work
after going to the pictures

now
bombs
falling on the engineering works around the hospital

the babies were put in boxes
pushed into the cabinets in the wall
of the morgue

the new mothers sat together
in their nighties on the floor
incendiary bombs falling

dad took us
to the bottom of the road
‘that’s where your mother is’
as we watched the flames
all red
rise in the dark sky
across Manchester

the next day
we walked
to see the new baby
walked the road
five miles past the burning
past the rubble
past the children running in pyjamas
alone

say welcome to the new baby
in the hospital
standing
white
all by itself
in the city

This is just one of the many family stories of birth that I have collected over the years. My own mum told this story about her brother's birth during one of the heaviest bombing raids on Manchester during the Battle of Britain. As a child, I loved hearing this story because it told me that the people in our family are strong, resilient.

I used to love hearing that my grandfather kept his family together. He wouldn't let the children be evacuated. "If we go, we all go together." I like to think that our family is stronger as a result - that my own children are stronger because of this.

But it also told me that we are profoundly impacted by the stories of our births - that we believe certain personality traits are borne out of our experience of that day. Is Maurice constantly nervous because he was born in a bombing raid? Or is he nervous because it has been an expectation of the story that has been told over and over again? What are your family stories of birth? What stories will you be telling your daughters and sons? Are they stories of resilience and empowerment? Are they stories of loss or victimization?

I hope that we carefully frame the stories that we tell, so the listeners will find strength in our words. We need to especially watch the particular words that we use when we talk to our daughters about birth, remembering that these epic stories will weave themselves into her thoughts as she is giving birth. I know that I saw visions of the bombs falling around the hospital as I gave birth to my own children. It didn't make me fearful, it made me strong. "Gran did it...I can do it... Gran did it...I can do it..."

We Rode the Ling Ling Storm

Five babies came as Tropical Storm Ling Ling washed across the Pacific.

Three at home - Anna, Ruby and Sami...

Two at hospital - Jack and Thompson...

Was it the low pressure system that made these babies - due from September 27 to October 28th - come in one week? Did they surrender to the draw of the new moon? Was it both? Or did these babies just tumble to earth in this month's enthusiastic group arrival?

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...she jumped up and grabbed onto the edge of the note.

Singing in labour is sacred. In the middle of a contraction, without warning, the note rises out of the woman. She sings to the baby, to herself, to all women. Her song can connect her to both the earth and the sky.

This past week, without planning, each woman has found her voice in labour, grabbed onto the edge of a note, and used it to take her through to the end of the contraction.

On Monday...we might not have heard her sing aloud in labour, but my first client this week drew power from the Dixie Chicks and others, by candlelight...

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Why do babies come in groups?

Do they get inspired by other babies that have made it through recently, and decide to come early just to join in the fun? It's a funny image, but it kept coming to me recently as seven babies came in a steady stream. The due dates ranged from August 28th to October 14th...but they all decided to come in a 10 day period. So funny :)

When I have time, I'll write more about the amazing lessons that we all learned from these babies...

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Kaleidoscope

"For we live with those retrievals from childhood that coalesce and echo throughout our lives, the way shattered pieces of glass in a kaleidoscope reappear in new forms and are songlike in their refrains and rhymes, making up a single monologue. We live permanently in the recurrence of our own stories, whatever story we tell." - from Divisadero by Michael Ondaatje

Shattering reflective pieces of a kaleidoscope tumble in my mind's eye. These are a million moments of experience, random sounds from births - a cry, a laugh, tumbling beside facts, data, then mingling with sparkling words from literature, history, and art. Our experience of life is beautiful and complex and always changing.

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7 in the month before 7/7/07...things are going swimmingly...

In the month before 7/7/07, I attended 7 births.

To honour these families, here are the condensed stories...

1. In labour, trying to make sure the men renovating her house wouldn't notice ("we waited so long for them to come and do the fireplace"), she dashes over to the contractor's house...only to be told by me to run down the stairs, get into a car, and meet me at the hospital. I could almost hear the dilation in her voice, and feel the baby's descent... So, we did perhaps the first "doula on headset" birth, dad and I driving to converge at the hospital, my voice quietly speaking into her ear through each contraction...and calling the hospital and doctor on my other cell phone. Dad remained calm...mum remained calm...and the baby was born in short order upon arrival at BC Women's. Phew!

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Lessons from a Happy Flying Baby (Advanced Level)

Did I tell you that I think that labour lasts as long as you need to learn all the lessons required for this particular child? There’s perhaps a little extra time added to work through some particularly tricky past life experiences. The baby’s personality has a lot to do with this...

One of the family doctors I know, said that all three of her boys had labours to fit their personalities. One came flying so fast that his cord broke. And that’s how he goes through life - flying headlong into things (both physically and emotionally). Another son takes his time, considers all his options, then considers them some more. As a result, his labour took a long, long time.

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Harper's Arrival

Today I drove a couple to the hospital.
I ran out of their building, jumped into my car, did a U-turn,
saw her kneeling on the stairs as if in deep prayer
her husband's body draped over her in protection.

Watch the bumps
30 minutes of head in the pillow
head on his lap
loving words
low moaning
legs braced for the curves in the road.

Water - I need water.
You're doing it.
You're amazing.

He calls out our progress
We're at Boundary
We've passed Knight Street
We're almost at Cambie
We're on Oak.

Press the button to obtain a ticket.

We park
One contraction
Two contractions
Back out of the car

Fully dilated

Land Speed Records (baby style)

The three little girls born this week almost set land speed records. The total official labour time for all three was 5.5 hours. Wow! (One was a first birth!) Now, I'm counting the official labour time as starting once TWO progressive regular contractions are coming every 10 minutes. (That's 2/10 for short.) Now, the total time of the three labours from the "first sign" adds up to 14 hours.

So, we had "fair warning" for each. I made it to each birth...and we all made it to the hospital in time (my apologies to the drivers that we flashed on the highway!) We didn't spend much time at the hospital before each baby was born (45min, 2 hrs, 30 min.) And...the quotes from the mums and dads and babies were great... "It's amazing the second time around - that was a little easier!" "I can't believe it's over already!" "The whole thing was incredible - crazy!" "That wasn't as bad as I expected!" "Whaaa!"

Now, I wonder if these girls flew into the world because they knew they were joining their sisters? Between these three families, there are now 6 girls!

Welcome to Hannah, Sadie, and Ava!

"The only real valuable thing is intuition" - Albert Einstein

Oh...the remaining three babies...I never talked about them... Sorry! Here it is...

It's interesting how women often have a sense of how their labour will go, even weeks before the due date. Some women have dreams of a spider web (baby wrapped in cord) or a rock climber (cord again) or a square peg in a round hole (positioning problem.) Are these premonitions or self-fulfilling prophecies? I don't know. I like to think that the body is giving the woman a clue about what is currently happening, and that these dreams are reality-based, not fear-based.

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It’s raining baby girls...and a boy!

Six little girls and one little boy in ten days...

It all started with a funny phone call which woke me up... “Hey, Jacquie, it’s Mel! I’m at the hospital!”

“Mel?” (I have a Mel who's due in a month...) Wake up, Jacquie...This is another Mel...She’s friends with another client, and must have driven her to hospital. “Right! How is she? What’s happening?”

So began the 10 days of fun (no overlaps.)

Girl’s night at St. Paul’s. Eight women waiting for a baby girl. Magic, laughter, acceptance, hugs, and love...and a “face-off with a skunk” thrown in for a bit of drama. My daughter was there, too, to witness this birth, to add a greater measure of awe to the night. Hip shakes...”I want to rock!” “I want to push!” ...then, “Hi, Sugar!” “You smell like graham crackers.” “You’re beautiful!” This was a birth of simplicity and joy. It was such a gift to be a witness on this night...

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"We go intertwined..."

Hello Jacquie,

I have been thinking about you today so I thought I would email. Today I was especially amazed by the miracle of Ethan and the amazing little person taking shape before my eyes. I was just on your website reading your wonderful writing and I realized what gratitude I feel for having had your warm presence at my labour. I will never forget the feeling of your sure hand on my foot. Just recently I find my mind wandering back to Ethan’s birth and wanting to dwell.

Well, Jacquie, I hope you are well and it amazes me that every day of your life is spent supporting, and surrounded by, the beauty of birth. You are truly blessed.

- Jolene

Expectation (ek'spek-ta'shn)

n.
1. a. The act of expecting. b. Eager anticipation: eyes shining with expectation.
4. Statistics b. The mean of a random variable.

Hmmm... I love the various meanings. It suits labour and birth, doesn't it? People even say, “She’s expecting...” when a woman is pregnant.

So, is expectation a positive or a negative thought process? Does it help us to realistically anticipate the event? Or can it set us up for the possibility of failure and guilt?

One thing that I discuss with clients are their anticipated “roles and expectations” - of themselves, of each other, and of their caregivers. Clients share their dreams for birth, however varied. Then we compare their expectations to the many potential realities.

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Walk into the cold with your scarf on

Each birth has a central memory upon which all the others cling. Last night's birth has a central memory for me which sums up the power of this amazing woman having her first baby - cold night, crunchy snow, coat on, red scarf over her head, 7cm, keys in hand, "I'm going to the car"...

Wow!

Just goes to show that you never can tell how it will all go - nine and a half pounds can be hard, but on some nights, it can just be like butter and slide easily and gently into the night.

The human body is a miraculous thing.

Room 8

Was it just this week that I attended two labours in Room 8 at BC Women’s? Was it just this week that my daughter came with me for the first time to attend a birth?

Midnight on New Year’s Eve came while we were in the assessment room, during a contraction. Nurses blew horns while my client laboured. The nurses station was laid out with food. It was surreal.

Throughout the labour, my daughter held the space like women did a long time ago - knitting, crossed-legged, low to the ground - bearing witness to this sacred event.

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White Lightning at Christmas

Dear Celia –

“I am a wonderful mother!” you cried while you were in labour. I wondered why this thought surfaced in the middle of a contraction. I didn’t disagree with your statement, but these contractions were like white lightning, your labour’s power vast. This triumphant cry hung in the air...

Ah…it became clear once the rest of the statement was spoken. “ - or else I would have just booked the cesarean weeks ago!”

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Birth of the World

After a bout of pneumonia (of course it wasn't due to overwork...but maybe all that drywall dust had something to do with it) for most of November and early December, all's well. Five new beautiful babies are in the world, bringing joy to their families.

The first flew in 5 weeks early...so sad that I missed it while I was so sick...

The second found me doing my doula work over the phone, drugged and coughing. "She's acting like a caged animal," says dad. "She sounds wonderful," I said, "But it sounds like it's time to go to the hospital." She had spent most of the labour at home, with me talking her through the contractions, encouraging showers, recommending positions, giving pep talks to her husband, arranging their hospital arrival, and helping them to get "the good room." Phone doula work isn't ideal, but it seemed to be better than nothing that day.

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