To the midwife who brought my first baby to the world.
Despite the doctor’s miscommunication,
she guided the lioness in me through nature’s vulnerability
the miracle of life brought to me through her hands.

To the midwife in my family, my mentor, my friend.
In my darkest place, nipples sore and breasts ready to explode,
you support me to be myself, to listen to myself.
“Relax, breathe, it is going to be alright”
you always say the words I need to hear.

To the midwife who showed us our first picture of the baby inside,
her heart beating and legs kicking, reacting to the moves I make.
To the midwife who put her steady hands on my shoulder,
guiding me through inhales and exhales.
To the midwife who reassuringly investigated my scars,
creating the safe space needed to speak.

To the midwives who’ve spent hours listening,
my worries, my joys, my expectations, my fears.
Listening to my story.

To the midwives I’ve listened to,
in maternity wards and through podcasts
invaluable words of wisdom.

To the midwife who brought my second baby to the world,
my little one so content.
She kept the room calm, speaking only when necessary,
supporting me with actions through the unbearable.
My blood, my pain, my screams.
She let me lead, when I felt nothing like a leader.
She calmed the quick storm in me,
and gave us space to welcome new life.

To all of the above who’ve helped me become who I am today.
Thank you for being with me – with women everywhere.

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