midwives and magic

So I went to this meeting where doulas, labor coaches, and midwives were presenting who they were and what they do. I was thinking a doula would be good, and a particularly attractive accessory since my doctor quest has been less than fruitful. To my surprise, I came away considering a midwife and home birth. I mean, what are the chances I'll be satisfied by what happens in a hospital? For all my cynical chatter and my east coast roots, I'm a holistic gal – a vegetarian, an acupuncture patient, a nature lover, a believer in mind-body connection. In a hospital, undoubtedly, some doctor or nurse will piss me off royally and I'll have to spend the better part of my child's first year spinning the tale to friends and strangers of how I was unjustly treated. As a new mom, I'm just not that sure I'll have enough energy. So I'm looking at options.

I listened to the midwife and midwife-in-training who were at the meeting speak about their work. They kept referring to "midwifery." The short "i" and the airy softness of the unvoiced "f" without the heavy vibrations of the "v" in the plural noun, gave the topic a semantic magic. It whispered and swirled like fall leaves ("leafy" leaves) in a private tornado, trapped by the wind in an alcove of a building. Looking at such a scene it is at one time both fierce energy and calm grace, chasing itself in a crazy circle but held up, one realizes, only by soft, invisible air.

Home birth. It's a thought.