Obgyns, Midwives, Doulas and the Emergence of Wild Woman – Part I



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If someone would’ve foreseen my future and shared that I would be having two home births and a life transformed from the inside out, I wouldn’t have believed them. Not one bit.

Many moons ago, before I ever got pregnant, my dearest friend from childhood shared that she was planning a home birth. And you know what? I did not know what to think. I might’ve thought she was a wee bit crazy to be honest. It had never crossed my mind that in today’s society some women would choose to give birth at home.

When she shared that her husband felt she would be safer giving birth at a hospital, I found myself agreeing with him but I respected her decision.

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In that moment in time she had planted a seed in my unconscious mind that was to become the flowering to my death and rebirth – the beginning of a new life – and I can’t thank her enough today.

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In November of 2011, at the first word of my pregnancy, she came with loving intentions to visit me. I was waiting for her in my little condo, nestled in the middle of China Town and Little Italy. Excited for me, she hopped on the computer, researched all the midwifery centres in the city, and told me to call each one of them as soon as possible or risk getting on their waiting list.

The word in the city was that you literally had to call the minute you found out if you were expecting a summer baby – or best of luck to you.

Well what is a new mom-to-be with no real understanding of midwifery and home births to do?

I waited, and waited. Procrastinated. While she kept reminding me.

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One late afternoon at work, during an office party, I snuck away in my office and closed the door. I turned off the lights and sat in stillness looking outside from the high-rise at the city street lights and commotion of the transitioning from work to personal life. I wondered in silence if my co-workers were suspecting my pregnancy, never being one to turn away a glass of wine.

In that moment, as reality began to sink deeper, I thought of my pregnancy and what was to come. I decided to pick up the phone and started dialling the numbers my dearest friend had carefully and lovingly written down on a piece of paper for me.

Each one congratulated me and kindly took down my name, date of last period and phone number. I remained calm and unconcerned, not truly understanding what the purpose of it all was. After all, this was the cue that you were on the waiting list. At least I could appease my dearest friend and go on with my pregnancy; or so I thought…

Until months down the road, with wild woman emerging in me, I declared to my beloved: “That’s it, We’re having a home birth!” (← click on the declaration to read the blog post)

Having never heard back from any midwifery centre, and growing this intense new passion and desire within me to have a home birth, I took matters into my own hands and began dialling their numbers once again. This time as a new woman who had reconnected with her inner source of power and wisdom and had made up her mind on where she wanted to give birth to her son. After a full immersion into the birthing world through books, films, documentaries and the wonders of the internet, I began to feel safer birthing outside of a hospital, in the quiet, peace and comfort of my own familiar and sacred space I called home.

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I wanted to give expression to my inner power and wisdom – to birth it and integrate it into my being – to experience an embodiment of wild woman, uninterrupted and away from temptation. 

I fell in love with birthing long enough to be fully convinced that it was a transformational and deeply spiritual experience – a rite of passage. And later I came to understand it as an initiation into the mysteries of life, death and rebirth.

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But, I was up for a rude awakening.

One after the other, regretfully, each midwifery centre on that precious list of mine – the life line to my dream – delivered me the heart wrenching news that they were full.

I begged. I pleaded. I told them about my fears, my dream. I expressed the injustice for an expectant mother desiring to have a home birth to be forced to birth in a hospital due to a shortage of midwives. It was dramatic. The world that was carrying my dream was crumbling away.

There remained one hope. A midwifery centre that had not answered my calls of desperation. I wiped down my tears, went online and found their email address.

To be continued… Read Part II

With love + light,




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