Thank google, for my midwife.

I thoughtlessly committed to the 55-minute drive to Anita’s new office. Although thinking ahead to week 36 and the drive becoming a weekly event, 2-hours round trip, did seem like I was setting myself up for trouble. What could be done. I had two babes, Anita was midwife to both, 1+1=2, every time.   Josh asked if we should perhaps explore someone closer and I balked at him, “Distance means nothing to me. At this point she’s as much part of my birth story as you, Mr. Larrabee.” He laughed at me, but hesitantly and only for a moment because he knew there is truth to every joke.

When I miscarried our first baby in March of 2011 the midwife I used had attempted to comfort me saying, “The baby spirit has gone back to the Divine Light where the baby spirit came from.”  It was clear to me, in that time of confusion and grief, that I had chosen the wrong midwife. Was she medically able, yes. Was she spiritually able, for me, no.  That moment consecrated my need for a Christian midwife. Knowing that midwifery, in Boulder at least, has a hippie, au-natural bend, I figured it would be hard to come by, but I knew that baby spirits and the Divine Light were not the way I was going to process my role in the Kingdom of God. For I knew that my child had returned to the King.  If your not invested in the faith I suppose that sounds just as lofty. But for me it was the difference between night and day, between blasphemy and divinity.  Upon miscarrying our first child I understood that childbirth was nothing less than a holy experience.  And if I were willing to have another go at it, it would not be under the counsel of a new age, crystal carrying hippie.

I found Anita with a highly calculated google search. It was “Christian Midwife Colorado.” She was the only one. Just kidding, I don’t remember if there were others, but I do recall the list wasn’t long. The moment I heard her voice my soul became light.  I had been appointed my own divine counsel. A midwife steeped in the belief the God brings forth new life and that the event is not necessarily medical, but is necessarily holy.

For two pregnancies, I would return from my prenatal visits and tell Josh that it fell more like I had been to a counseling session than a medical appointment. Anita would review all the medical necessities,  but then we would speak of fears and concerns, of hope and faith. She would seamlessly weave in scripture after scripture as she encouraged me in my God given ability to birth a healthy baby.

At my home visit appointment, week 38, with Beaudin she asked if it would be ok if she sang the doxology after birth. She said her belief was that the first sounds the baby should hear were the mother and fathers voices, and then promptly the word of God. I wept. Her presence was a palpable blessing from God.

Anita retold to me the beautiful and pure details of Beaudin’s birth story when I called her, newly pregnant with Jude, and admitted I was scared to have another home birth. I had spent months retelling myself a couple of very specific details of his birth, details that bred fear in my heart. Fear to the point I had all but decided I would not have another baby at home.  Anita spoke truth to me, and reminded me of all the aspects of Beaudin’s birth. She told me her perspective on the memories that had haunted me. They aligned more clearly with Josh’s, memories of hope and expectancy, not fear.  She spoke God’s truth to me, breaking down the walls fear had built around my heart.

Anita spent Christmas Day with us in 2013. Something I continually apologized for, between contractions, and after the birth of Jude. Feeling something terrible for ruining her holiday she reminded me, “God calls forth the child. There is no use trying to adjust God’s plan. Holiday or not.”

When I think of Anita my heart feels as full as thinking about Jude when he raises his eyebrows really high with excitment, or when I watched Beaudin have his first go around the cul-de-sac on his “big kid bike”.  Surely not because she is the perfect person, but because God has used her perfectly in my life.  Through Anita, He has reminded me that His plans are to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me hope and a future.  fullsizeoutput_1083


1 thought on “Thank google, for my midwife.”

  1. […] How disheartened I was when I saw this yield. I had good intentions for my lavender, and still, because I wasn’t sure of the difference between dead and dormant, I stunted their growth. The understanding of horticulture can’t come from the internet, which is hard to believe in a time when “google it” is valid an answer to most questions.  (Remember, google found me the perfect midwife.) […]


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