The Angel Remains

Open your life today.

At first your eyes
and then, just to exercise,
your roof,
then the sky.

Fly to come down,
to open the earth.
Look at the hurt
with the intensity
of what you are worth.

Touch with all your senses,
open all the channels
just by saying yes
to flesh and soul.

Open it all
and see yourself waking up
in your own gentle hands.

No matter how wounded
the angel remains,
always.


This angel-candle was my self-made birth-candle! If you are pregnant, a nice way to prepare for your birth. I also made a few candles together with my kids. For them it is also good to have fun being part of the birth-preparation of their new baby-brother or sister. You can just pick the candle of your preference and order some coloured bee-wax from Amazon (or in case you live in a city, get it from the next creative-shop). The wax goes soft in your hand so you can kneed all kind of shapes and figures, or use a little knife to cut shapes out.

I made an angel because I felt I would need the heavenly protection and to be reminded of my own, angelic self in the for me personally, often so rough storm of birth. Some women seem to be able to birth staying pretty angelic, but I have some hidden animalistic bits coming up when it comes to childbirth.

A nice occasion to make (one bigger) birth candle is with your girlfriends on a Blessingway-celebration. Or, each woman can create her own birth-candle to light when you go into labor. I will tell you more about the Blessingway in another post soon!

No matter how you decide to do it, it is a wonderful gesture to bring light to birth. Also when you are not pregnant it is a beautiful blessing-ritual to light a candle for all women that are in labor right now, as we did once in the Doula-course with Debra Pascali Bonaro. Because, as she says:

' Peace on earth begins with birth!' 

Cat-face

This time a poem that I wrote inspired by two pictures of Cintia Pumes, a very faithful reader of my blog. Thank you for your permission to use the pictures here and for bringing the inspiration back to me, Cintia!

Cat face

When everyone bought everything new
she escaped to the ruins of who bought everything new years ago.
Expressing something ancient there in her fresh eyes and smile
in her light steps causing the castle to crunch.

Being a doula for nothing to be born
but the way the past blackens in our face,
the way she holds her cat between us and herself
when a brand new camera arises. 

Hissing with slinky beauty,
through and behind the shadow. 

The Daughter's Space

She is in my centre, clings herself into red earth’s body,
drinks the forest in through the cord, the leafs song
of oxygen, gathers strength with the natural turning
of the wheel.

She stepped into her absence.
The open space where I held my breath
when the crow screamed before it left.

My virgin’s feet drawn to the middle
of where my sister got burned,
island of life in the ocean of death.
I catch my womanhood
and her soul like a flame.

Emptiness recites for me, the mother concept.
The beating fever of life finds her home
whether or not I am.


A little note to this poem: most of you may know that I am expecting a baby at the moment. The due-date is in three weeks and a bit. In our case, modern technology has failed to convince us of the sex of the baby. Twice we've heard it is 'likely to be a boy'. Our baby just didn't want to show and started kicking whenever we asked the women's doctor to look, guided by our impatient curiosity to get to know more about our child. Even though I have never recognized it myself I started to think of the baby as a boy.. Whenever I write poetry though, this baby turns out to be a girl. Also the father of the child has been writing about 'her' already before conception.. Do you think the 'girl' in the writings is just like a metaphor or is this child really a girl? Here's a little cliff-hanger on a poetry-weblog.. ;)

This coming weekend I will be celebrating my Blessingway-party and one of the days after it I'll come up with a blog about that! Be prepared that most of the postings here will be about my pregnancy and baby. I will be happy to share some pictures of the belly painted baby belly, the women's circle, the flowers, the baby, the birth-card... If you prefer poetry only, please tell me, than I will keep them images for myself!

Love and beauty,
Laura

A poem dedicated to Leboyer and a quest for YOUR poem for birth-preparation

This tiger, what is he doing here?

He is the image of your fear!

Look at him with attention.

Doesn't he have a charming smile?

In my last blog 'Hedgehog in the fog' I dedicated the following sentences to a book of Leboyer I've recently read as a preparation for the birth of my third child: 

'Today I read Leboyer's beautiful book 'Atmen, singen, gebaeren' (in german). It is about using breath and voice to stay above the waves (the birthing-contractions). A voice, a tone that feels like 'yourself' is all that is needed to not let the ship strand. While reading I experienced again, feeling freshly born in the simple beauty of a day.'

Frédérick Leboyer (born November 1, 1918) is a French obstetrician and author. He is best known for his 1975 book, Birth Without Violence, which popularized gentle birthing techniques.

I had a laugh with my midwife when she handed me the book saying ‘Oh he’s a man to want to marry!’
Me: ‘Isn’t he a bit too old? I mean I do like my man being older than I am, but that old..’
‘Well, probably he has a son??’ We both laughed. I know she is in a happy relationship and her 'wanna-marry-saying’ was just her way of expressing her admiration as a midwife for his birthing knowledge and philosophy.

Now I got to the point that I have to confess that I am even worse! I wrote a poem for the man, calling him Captain Birth & Mister Lighthouse….Blimey!
The process of writing this poem felt like a good way to internalize what I’ve read and I warmly recommend other pregnant woman to translate birthing-literature you found inspiring into a poem of your own. Sentences of it might be even useful as affirmations?

Anyway, here is the poem:

Leboyer

Captain Birth dictates to be on the top of each wave,
to stay awake, to not be swept away but let it sweep through,
to stay true to the tone that is you, to be on that tone,
he dictates, Mister Lighthouse, her glowing shorelines
floating on focus.

He guides her with a choir of bees. with the tambura
and the no-sound of peace, from deep out of the earth,
vibrating through sea.

With the strictness rooted in love of a born teacher
he does the only thing he can do, opening mermaids
tales into legs, mother mouths melting open for babies
as they happen, naturally.


Please share with me the poem that you've written after reading specific birthing literature, or the affirmations that you've written/used yourself. Possibly there is an existing poem of another writer that you found to be inspiring for birth? I would be so delighted to hear there are more woman who use poetry as a way to get to their core of tranquility..

From this poem I thought ' to stay awake, 
to not be swept away but let it sweep through,

to stay true to the tone that is you, to be on that tone'
could be used as an affirmation.

And: ' mother mouths melting open for babies
as they happen, naturally' 

World Doula-week 22. - 28. march 2016

It's world Doula week! A good reason to celebrate that every beautiful birth-experience reminds us of and strengthens our divine femininity and means one more child is born in peace. In the Doula's in Austria Facebook group many members have been making their personal ' I am a Doula because..-picture' and to see so many beauties blooming for birth-activism has been truly inspiring and touching.

I recently got the honour of being asked to write an essay about my personal path of becoming a Doula and finished this today. The wave of Doula-magic that this Doula-week caused made it a (very tasty!) piece of (vegan!) cake. As soon as this piece of writing is edited and ready to be read online I will let you know where to find it.

Ps: I had vegan cake today.. With vegan raspberry cream.. As in.. Birth for peace... food for peace... Pleasure for peace.. Mmmm