Touching me… touching you…


Sweet caroline…. good times never seemed so good…. I’ve been inclined to believe it never would… -Neil Diamond. Only a midwife could pull a birth analogy from a Neil Diamond song. 🙂

“Peri-natal psychologists and midwives I’ve talked to have all found that quite often babies who are dragged into life by their legs and arms as in the case of caesareans, or induced to be born at more convenient times, set up life patterns of feeling like they’re being dragged through life against their will. Like they’re never on time to do the right thing, and that people around them are always overshadowing them and making decisions for them against their will. It seems quite stunning to me in the light of such logical conclusions about how birth sets us up for life, that we do anything apart from gentle welcomes to the world, with the mother, baby and family all being respectfully honoured in their journey.” a quote from a birth story on Homebirth: A Midwife Mutiny [Fab story, btw of homeborn twins.]

I was quite startled when I read this description of, as it were, my OWN THOUGHTS and life experience. I was born via forceps after an induction my mother refused but her doc tricked her into having (as far as I can gather from what she remembers). I’ve shared this before, but to see it written so succinctly from another’s pen struck me full force yet again:

THE WAY WE ARE BORN MATTERS!

and it impacts us for the rest of our lives. Are the first hands that touch us emotionally invested in our well-being? Do those hands love us? The energy passed (through whatever force you’d like to credit it to) from those hands to the baby are powerful and become an intrinsic part of who we are as PEOPLE. My personal faith beckons me to believe that the Lord of the Universe, Yahweh, Jehovah, Elo-him, Jesus, are that energy in me. More than once in scripture are we challenged to “be careful on whom we lay hands”… indicating that the touch from a believer is powerful and life-changing.

As I journey towards undoing my own birth trauma, I see that my life’s work is broadened further with the hope that I NEVER touch a baby in any way but that which is beneficial and life-giving. Better still if I don’t touch those babies at all until they have been welcomed into their father’s arms and their mother’s breast.

So thanks Neil, for the reminder, and for the mama who shared her homebirth story, and for my own mother who birthed me and couldn’t sit for weeks as a thank-you. I’m sorry mama. It wasn’t your fault, and it wasn’t mine either.

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