11/10/2025
The Day I Was Reborn
Getting closer to the day I gave birth, a year ago.
I can’t stop thinking about that rite of passage.
40 hours of labor.
3 hours of pushing.
Unmedicated. In a birth center.
I caught my own baby, and it was the most beautiful moment of my life.
We went home just hours later, wrapped in the soft chaos of new life, new love, new everything.
When I look back, I don’t even recognize myself.
I wasn’t “me.”
I was pure instinct, a wild, primal woman meeting her own power for the first time.
A woman at her edge, realizing she could go even further.
Birth is a dance between worlds, between body and soul, mother and baby, earth and spirit.
The divine feminine remembering herself.
It’s messy, holy, raw, sacred.
Labor taught me surrender, to trust my body when my mind wanted control.
To go inward, deeper than I ever thought possible.
Pushing taught me to listen, to my body, my baby, and that sacred rhythm between us.
Pushing is power.
Labor is faith.
Each wave a lesson in surrender.
Each breath a bridge between my baby and me.
Birth is not just the arrival of a child.
It’s the creation of a mother.
And I’m endlessly grateful this was my story —
that I got to birth my baby like this.
That I got to birth myself, too. 🤍
That day, I gave birth to him.
But I also gave birth to me —
a softer, stronger, more grounded version of myself.
And today, I honor her —
the woman who roared.
The woman who trusted.
The woman who rose.
The woman who became a mother.
