off the books

I mentioned to a couple of friends before I left NZ that it would be strange to come back to my life as an unattached 23 yr old with no outwardly identifiable links to child-bearing whatsoever. And it's true - I often find myself at work waitressing, or out with my peer-age friends, or doing xyz and catch myself in the laughable thought "Is *this* what a midwife looks like??". Although as one of my profs always says "There's a midwife for every woman". Once again I'm grateful that I can both adore and reject the stereotype. Back to my point, however. What I have discovered, is that even when I'm so far removed from anything birth-y (barring my fantastic intact perineum dream of last night!) birth comes to me. It comes in the stories of anyone who has been born and who has given birth, in anyone who has seen it, or never seen it, or been in awe of it, or never given it a second thought (until they run into me, hehehe). It's such an honourable role to be a guardian of birth *at* a birth - and yet when you find yourself becoming the guardian of birth in language, conversation, the open public space, it is a profoundly deep, weighty, proud mantle to be wearing. And this is one of the reasons I love midwifery and why it rings true to my vision of a well-lived life - because everyone has to be born and, so birth is for all of us