All birth is Sacred...look to nature
Every pregnant woman is a Goddess. As she labors to bring forth new life, she embodies the Divine Mother, creator of all life and deserves the highest respect.
Is there any sound more beautiful, more sacred than the sound of your baby’s first breath?
When I was seven years old, I got to choose a kitten as my own. I chose a gray one with white paws. I named her Mittens.
A year later, Mittens was ready to give birth to her first litter of kittens. She chose my closet as her birthing room. My mom, my siblings and I found her a cardboard box and lined it with soft towels. We placed the box in a corner of my closet and waited.
I didn’t know what to expect. My senses were attuned to changes in my cat.
One evening I heard Mittens softly mewing in my closet. I crawled in next to her. I stroked her head and she purred softly.
The closet was dark and quiet. I felt peaceful sitting with her.
My siblings wandered in and Mittens growled. They respected her space and left. Mittens was teaching us what she needed in order to give birth.
She continued to allow me to sit with her. I began to notice her rhythms. Meow….. purr……meow….purr….. work and rest, work and rest.
Then her rhythms shifted. Meow meow meow meow! And in moments her first baby kitten wriggled out of her body! Mittens licked her baby, nuzzled her, purred and softly assisted her to her nipples with her gentle paws. Tears filled my eyes. My baby cat is a mama now! And she is such a loving, patient mama.
My siblings heard the commotion and hovered at the door.
“What color is her fur? Long or short? Girl or boy? What should we name her?”
Before I could answer, Mitten’s chorus of meows began again as she birthed her second kitten. Slowly and with powerful trust, Mittens ushered two more kittens into the world. Four soft mewing babies all welcomed with licks and purrs, warm fur and mama’s milk.
Mittens was instinctively protective of her new babies. We knew not to touch them. One calico, one orange, one tiger, one gray and white, each precious and perfect. We brought our new mama cat food and water in those first days. She allowed my siblings to look in and we sang to her, celebrated with her, rejoiced with her, all with quiet voices and big smiles.
Twice a year until I went to college, I sat with Mittens in a dark, quiet corner of my closet and stroked her head, honored to support her and witness the miracle of birth again and again.
Birthing my own three children, I drew on this experience.
Birth is sacred and holy, private and quiet, surrounded by loving support. This is my picture of birth.