...a gemini.

At yoga this week we had a discussion about our babies astrological signs and how that may affect the way we are feeling or behaving as we gestate these babies. I had not really considered what sign this baby was likely to be. I had only really thought about the fact that this baby had only a chance of being a cancer. I am a cancer, Meg is a cancer and I love the qualities of this sign. Of course I do... I am one. I feel like water courses through my veins sometimes. Although I love to get away and seek adventure, I equally love to come home. And Meg and I fit together so perfectly in this way. Our hearts are in our home and family. I know Meg in a way that I had not considered before and perhaps that is part of why I felt in such deep connection with her while she grew in my belly. In fact as I was nearing the end of my 42nd week of pregnancy and the changing of the astrological signs I feared I may have a Leo and it worried me. I don't know why but I felt that baby needed to be a cancer. Strangely I don't even think about astrology all that much normally.

This baby could not have been conceived any closer in date to when we conceived Meg. But this time I am just as likely to have a Gemini as I am a cancer. Our solstice baby could be born on either side of the cusp. My gut has been telling me all along that this baby is more likely to be early and I have come to terms with the fact that I will may not have another cancer to add to my brood. That is where I stopped thinking about it. Until Thursday night... When my yogini asked us what signs our babies would be I was not even sure what came before cancer. We figured it to be Gemini and it was like a lightbulb went off in my head. Now it all made sense. It was clear why I had felt so many conflicting things in any given moment, such duality... the feeling that I want things to hurry up and slow down all at once... maybe even why it felt like this baby had eight limbs. I have been gestating twins! Even from the start of my pregnancy I had a small nagging thought that I was carrying twins. I had no idea that this was what that all meant. And now I am eager to see what this will mean as we get to know this Gemini baby and see how this piece of our family puzzle will fit.

Now I feel even more certain that this baby will not wait for the solstice to arrive. It just all seems to make so much sense that I can't imagine it will go any other way. It sounds in some ways like I have some sort of hope or agenda for this babies time to join our family. But I really don't. Without looking at a calendar I am feeling myself shifting into that birthing zone. Knowing that soon I will be in that window of anticipation when any day holds the potential to be my baby's birthday. That one day I will wake to the last day with this view from here. And each of those days holds such wonder and psyche building energy. Just when will I come to that edge, close my eyes, hold my nose and leap...

...something that sounds like a lullaby.

As I was laying on my yoga mat during the relaxation of my prenatal yoga class last Thursday evening my mind was racing. Hardly the point of that relaxation time, I know... I have been working in birth for over 6 years now and I really thought I understood what parents wanted. My work has lead me down a path I had not anticipated would become such a rich part of my life. I see birth as a rite of passage, a transformational journey to the depths of our souls in order to find out who we really are (or aren't). A shedding of one's maiden self in order to take up service as a mother. I know that what women need to prepare for this is not a class describing the stages of labour or a show and tell of all the potential medical equipment one might see in the labour and delivery room. I have discovered that what they truly hunger for is someone to bare witness to them as they discover for themselves what their path will be, from where they have come and to hold space for them as they realize that where they are headed is vastly unknown and uncharted territory. It is a path that involves moments of fear, panic and holy terror along with the more recognized and freely spoken about excitement, joy and anticipation.

5 years ago I read a book by Michel Odent (and later heard him speak in person). He spoke about the needs of a woman in her preparation for birth and it all seemed a bit too simple. In fact he distills a lot of things down to the lowest common denominator. He is a fascinating man. But after reading his books and hearing him speak I couldn't believe that there wasn't more to his belief that all women needed for prenatal preparation was to sing lullabies. Once a week an older woman in the community where he worked in France would play lullabies on the piano and all the pregnant women would gather to sing. They did not take "classes". This was all they did...

Surely they hungered for more than that. How would they know what to do? How would they be able to make decisions about their care? I was already a doula that believed that parents did not have to be obstetrical experts to have a baby but I couldn't let go of our Western thirst for more, more, more information. The last five years have changed my mind about this on so many levels. I have mentored and supported many parents and they all say the same thing. They love lullabies... or painting, or dancing, or storytelling. Intellectually I had new understanding for this lullaby theory.

Last Thursday it sank into my soul... I was laying on that yoga mat and feeling deep in my bones that the first 30 weeks of my second pregnancy had been missing exactly this. A group of maidens gathering to fill themselves with the spirit of a community that was pulsing at the same rhythm as them. And better yet to be lead or held in the bosom of the already initiated. My yogini is special. I met her when I was 5 weeks pregnant with Meg. She was a part of every week of that pregnancy and I lived for those evenings. I had forgotten how sacred they felt. The sharing that happens in her circles is honest and even raw sometimes. Some of the women I met in her classes are still in my life, one of them is one of my dearest friends.

I am struggling to fully translate into text what has settled in my bones about all of this. I might have been able to explain it better before last week because it was stuck in my intellect. It has sifted its way through to a soul knowing where words hold no power. Maybe I could sing it for you....