Dear Uterus, thanks.

After years of attending births in the hospital I began to feel myself sink into the gravity of hospitalized birth. I couldn't stand to hear another resident say, "we don't see that you are progressing the way we would expect," and offer some drugs.

Then there would be these clear moments, reminders of how significant birth is. These usually happened at home with a woman in the middle of the night when there was only she and I awake in the world. And in her bathroom, mostly in the dark, there would be clarity of how truly significant that moment was, cluing into the richest aspect of birth.

So, as life does, I was offered an apprenticeship with a homebirth practice. It actually happened one night at Rainbow Grocery among the vegetables. Nancy said, "Are you ready?" and my answer was yes. Now I am attending homebirths. Here I am renewing my appreciation for the uterus and all it does. I am loving the gusto of placentas as they swish full steam under my doppler. These babies born at home brighten as we welcome them. And man, there is nothing like a woman about to push her baby out. It assures me we are wild animals.

Dear reader, things are changing.