In the last few days before a birth it feels as though the world is holding its breath. Everything around me is muted, like a city sleeping under a heavy snowfall, like 3am — the sounds and colours and movement are there, but slowed, quieted, muffled. The world waiting for a bringing forth, like bulbs thrusting through the cold, barren earth in early Spring.
In the final hours of preparation, I am pulled into myself…
In the final hours of preparation, I am pulled into myself, connecting with my baby and making mental space for the experience to come — letting go of my worries, giving myself over to what will be.
Birth is a threshold, a thinning of the veil between life and death, a passing over, the closest to a spiritual epiphany that I have ever come. I feel connected to something bigger than myself, something ancient and primordial.