Beau Isidore Cedar Blue :: A Strawberry Moon Birth

I pulled myself up onto the porch railing, bracing myself so as to not fall while I pinned the sheer curtain to the porch ceiling. I hopped down and looked critically at my handiwork. “Whatcha ya think, Jen?”  We cocked our heads, staring, assessing, deciding we were on the right track. We kept at our work all the while stepping back, fluffing and tweaking until we were both satisfied. The June air hung with the scent of nearly-spent peonies, the yard awash with their vibrant splashes of color and we cut their stems, setting them in vases, inside and out.

 

 

We were preparing what we came to call the “Birth Bower.”

 

Erin’s one of those rare women who radiates compassion, goodwill, warmth, and love; the kind of woman who conceives of delivering her baby on her back porch in a birth tub, tucked in amongst carefully hung curtains, embraced by warm June air infused with the fragrance of peonies. We’d all been long awaiting this birth-day; due in mid-June, baby had waited, waited, and waited. The night heralded the Strawberry Moon.  

Labor progressed slowly. We laughed and talked, we ate dessert brought by the neighbors, we put the final touches on the birth space, we slept around the birth fire built by Erin’s father, we walked late into the night, singing while staring up at the Strawberry Moon that hung in the crystal night sky.

And still, labor moved slowly. My former midwife {and now dear friend} tells me repeatedly to “trust the timing.” Babies arrive on earth in their own sweet time, heedless of any existing schedule. And if nothing else, birth work is the learning and practicing of patience. Ultimately, her lovely {and amazing!}  midwives made the difficult decision to move Erin to the local hospital. We all grieved the transfer: the porch was decked out as if for a wedding, the morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, the birth fire crackled in the yard. It was difficult to leave such beauty.

 

 

But there’s wisdom in change sometimes.

 

The nurse started a low-dosage pitocin drip, we danced to an eclectic mix {which included some vintage Bon Jovi!}, and Erin took a well-deserved and much-needed nap. And then, Beau Isidore Cedar Blue roared into this world: perfectly timed, perfectly made, perfectly loved. Thank you Erin and Tony, for opening your home and your hearts and for allowing me to document the day{s} Beau Isidore Cedar arrived. They’re days I’ll never forget.