When you have just given birth, I see you.
Well, I see your new baby, but I don’t marvel at her because I always knew she was coming, and how lovely, squishy, fresh, helpless and resilient she would be.
And I see your husband. I see how he has fallen in love all over again and maybe he is crying or maybe he is quiet, but I still see it in his eyes because they cannot hide the miracle of what has happened.
But there is always a moment when you will look at me. And I see you.
I see what you have gone through– what intensity. What bravery you have shown, even if you cried, or said out loud or to yourself that you couldn’t do it any longer. Even if the journey felt different than you thought it would. Even when you felt you had no choice but to go on, or like you were out of control, or that you wanted it all to end. Though you may have suffered. Though you may have been euphoric. You were brave. You are fierce.
I see that you are raw, open, in need of rest and healing. I see that you have been through darkness and are making your way out into the light. I see that you are still in pain– your baby is here, but you still have work to do. I am still here.
I am here to notice, to witness, to validate and celebrate all of the other moments that are happening so quickly. I am here to keep holding space for you while it feels like the whole universe is shifting its attention to your precious new baby. I never stopped noticing you.
Later, I am going to remind you of these moments if you want to relive them. I am going to answer your questions if your memories are blurred by hormones and exhaustion, and I will never tire of hearing them. I will help you make peace with your birth experience and find strength in your story. I am not going to forget your birth. I am your doula.