my mom said, "no" to drugs

last night, i talked to my mom for the first time in a couple weeks. we were talking about childbirth due to the recent influx of May babies.

she told me that i was a natural delivery. i never knew this. in all these years, i didn't know i was the only one out of my siblings to have a natural birth. when i was younger, i was always inquisitive about my birth and wanted to know what it was like. my dad had it on tape, until one of his friends taped over it with a baseball game.

my mom would tell me small details about her pregnancy with me, but never much about the delivery. i remember the story of my older sister; who used to follow her around the house mocking her every move, grunting, waddling and holding her belly. i also knew from photos that i took a cruise to the big island.

as i got older, she would tell me less and less about my birth. it finally came to the point where she'd chuckle and say, "look at your baby book, i've had four children!" so id go back to my brown and yellow cloth covered book in search of answers. i remember the cover had a poem on it and a brown baby, that was supposed to represent me. the pages were filled with comments on my first solid foods, the funny faces i made and immunization dates. the baby book was my main portal back to this delivery scene.

last night must have been a special. as my mother shared the news about my natural delivery, she talked in more detail then ever before.

a team of nurses massaged her and encouraged breathing. music played in the background, and i came into the world. she described it all so gracefully, as if i just "came." i'm sure i was not at all this glamorous, but last night, my mom made it sound easy. she pushed through.

i started to think about how mood & environment affects the whole process of giving birth. when she told me there music playing it made sense. i have a relationship with music. it brings on emotions that can sometimes be indescribable.

music heals.

when its best, its pulled from the soul.

blood, sweat. and tears.

last night, when i sat and thought about our conversation something inside me clicked. i felt a lost piece of me jump back into my soul.

its such a comforting feeling to hear something that you already know about yourself - from someone else. especially, your mother.


(art: beatien yazz, mother and child)