Transition… it happens right before you push your baby out. It happens without warning, and it sweeps you up in its big strong arms.
Transition, from breathing through the waves to feeling the hot saltwater on your face. It’s like the riptide trying to pull you under, making you feel weak & unprepared, alone in a room with other people. Like you’re drowning on dry land, reaching out from under the surface.
A hand grasps yours and you feel safe, someone sees you, they can hear you. They have been to this place before, they recognize the terrain, and they give you safe passage through.
“You can do this, you know the way, trust yourself.”
Wipe your face, refocus your thoughts, and begin again. Power rushes through your body, your baby descends, it’s like lightning and fire all at once.
”Deep breaths now”
It’s time, this is it, everything has lead to this exact moment, and then…everything stops. Warmth spreads through your veins like a shot of whiskey, sounds are dull, your chest feels like it wants to scream, or weep, or laugh. You bring your baby to your chest and you are flooded with love.
”You did it!”
“I did it… I did it!”