“A crown has been made for you. Beads prepared, words shared. It is your time, sweet Mama. To meet your baby. ”
I left a friend’s Blessingway the other night thinking about the traditions and customs we teach our daughters. And thankful that my own daughter, Ruby, in her teeny eight months of life, has attended three blessingways, not including her own. I feel grateful and honored to be able to share these times with her. These rites of passages. Celebrating with other women about pregnancy and birthing and mamahood and womanhood. Sharing sweet, tender, private moments with each woman in attendance. All of us vulnerable in sharing parts of our stories, but knowing we are in safe company. And my baby girl shares that energy.
I will create for her a feeling of safety around birth. A sisterhood. A knowing that she can do it. That she will do it. That she is doing it. She will know her own birth story, it will be told to her over and over again. I can say without doubt that my baby girl will know many birth stories. Stories of strength and bravery and courage. She will know that this work is hard, but it is so, so worth it.
Here, with her, begins a legacy. A legacy of truth around birth. A certainty and confidence about her ability as a woman. Her ability to birth a baby. This circle, this empowerment has begun. This I know.