My story
It was through my initiations into motherhood that I found my vocation for birth work. I have traversed the shock of early pregnancy loss, the underworld journey of hyperemesis gravidarum, the grief of traumatic hospital birth, and then the redemptive fire-walk of wild pregnancy and freebirth (VBAC) less than 18 months later. Drawing from my own journey, I offer a depth of embodied wisdom and a trauma-informed approach in guiding women to a place of empowerment and connection with their ancient birthing wisdom.
Below is my Maiden to Mother story, told as a poetic journey.
I was always drawn to mystery teachings and inner traditions. A borne wisdom seeker (Sagittarius stellium in the 8th house) deepening my understanding of life’s inherent journeys and transformations, and creating beauty and art from them, comes naturally to me. So it is only natural that I accepted the trauma and challenges experienced on my Matrescence journey, as the rich soil needed for my flowering.
“My heart orients towards joy, like a flower lifts its face to the sun. But my roots go deep—drawing sustenance from the dark, moist soils of the underworld.”
—from my essay "On the Initiation of Miscarriage’ on Substack
Before becoming a mother I spent many years delving into a plethora and creative fields including filmmaking, acting, portrait photography, oil painting and writing poetry - which I now weave through my offerings. I couldn’t ever be found without my nose in a book or pouring my heart out onto the pages of my journal. For a long time, I was searching for meaning; to find my true vocation. I was working as both a bookseller and nanny when I became pregnant for the first time. Overjoyed, I wrote
O what a wonder
I am a goddess
For I carry a life inside
Such a dream I dreamed up
And here I am, fulsome
Here I am, all fertile soil
Everything in me is an ocean
I am heavy, like jungle rainfall
My sound is of laughter
And rushing water…
(excerpt from my poem ‘Fruitful’ c.2018)
My path to birthing like the ancients
At ten weeks, I began bleeding. I was devastated, and yet from the experience I was left with the profound lesson that I am Mother Nature. That like a tree, not all flowers bear fruit. The loss drew me closer to my ancestors, to my grandmothers, who between them lost a number of pregnancies. I took two weeks off work and lay in my mother’s garden each day, drinking a strong brew of herbal tea, sunning my womb, crying and writing in my journal. Without even knowing it at the time, I honoured my postpartum phase after loss. I would carry no fear into my next pregnancy - I knew within the cells of my being that I would bloom again and birth my future children. I was a portal of life and death, and the initiation made me into a woman.
Two years went by, living out the twilight days of my Maidenhood, bookselling by day and oil painting by night. My first pregnancy was not planned; and now my partner and I were ready to start a family. We called in our daughter, and I conceived on the first cycle. I considered myself a holistic woman, conscious in my choices, and decided to birth my baby in a birthing centre with midwifery care. What I didn’t realise at the time was how incredibly naive I was - and this right here is the crux of my work with women: unravelling the stories and limiting beliefs we inherit from our culture. I wanted a natural birth, and thought that by choosing midwifery care and doing some hypnobirthing classes, I would have the cosmic water birth of my dreams.
I experienced hyperemesis gravidarum in my first and second trimesters—intense 24/7 nausea and the inability to keep down food or water. It was the most intense spiritual purge of my life; tilling the soil for my birth journey. Throughout my pregnancy there were many red flags throughout my interactions with my care providers, and yet I chose to ignore my intuition again and again, a result of deeply programmed people-pleasing tendencies. I was uncomfortable within the confines of the system, hesitant to take part in the mounting ultrasounds and tests they were demanding, but I didn’t know how to walk away. I blindly trusted that “everything would work out” and it cost my daughter her birth. After a cascade of intervention, coercion and mistreatment, my daughter was delivered via (completely unnecessary) c-section.
You can listen to Isadora’s birth story here.
Thus began the greatest unravelling of my life. Those first tender months as a mother I was equally shocked and grieving my experience at the hands of the system, and falling in heart-swelling, euphoric love for my precious baby girl. My postpartum was severely unsupported, and I found myself hosting guests in the tender days post-surgery. I was undergoing the most rapid learning and transformation of my life. I was Persephone, on her return journey from the Underworld.
After becoming a mother, I wrote
She arrived in spring.
Under the evening star
We named her for Isis,
Fertile queen of heaven.
Now I am the Mother Vessel
The softness, the space, the sea—
Breasts abundant
With sweet milk that flows
At the touch of her mouth,
That gushes forth
After lovemaking
With her father.
What is this sacredness,
This pouring of waters?
We are the enduring
Image—a family now.
Holy, holy, holy
Is our trinity.
—Mother Vessel
I was committed to healing on every level - somatically, emotionally and spiritually. I knew that I would never birth within the system again and that a cycle of healing would come to completion when my body was able to birth physiologically. Nine months after my daughter’s birth, I conceived my son. It wasn’t planned — but the Fates undoubtedly ordained it. I could feel my son flitting around us in the prior months, wanting to incarnate. After the moment of his conception, I lay down beside the fireplace and the flames illuminated tears on my cheeks. I knew I was hurling myself back onto the rollercoaster of pregnancy and birth, and that I would be doing things very differently this time around.
I never took a pregnancy test. I chose to have a wild pregnancy, meaning I didn’t engage with the system in any capacity. I personally found this to be a deeply peaceful and fulfilling experience — gestating and blooming like the ancients, the same way my ancestors did up until the past two generations. I revelled in the mystery. I read books, sought out stories, listened to podcasts and explaored what it means to take full responsibility for my pregnancy and birth. I honoured my intuition, deepened my connection to my lineage and communed with my baby and the unseen realms. I did the inner work. I gathered around me a community of like-minded women, who organised a Mother’s Blessing ceremony for me, and offered support in my postpartum. I never for a moment doubted my ability to claim my VBAC. My arrow was cast; I was being pulled by the current of destiny that was always mine. Before birthing my son, I wrote
The cathedral of my mouth opens
As I roar wide the portal between my thighs
Invoking the Mother to bring forth the child
My journey ancient as Earth herself
O cosmic waters, O navel of riches
I am the scrying Oracle at Delphi
I am the primordial pool spilling over
I am the Universe, birthing herself.
—Ancient Mother
So eighteen months after my daughter’s c-section, I was on my knees on my laundry floor pushing my baby boy out into his father’s hands whilst the grey skies crackled with thunder and released the first rains of Autumn. My labour was exquisite — the most powerful and intense experience of my life. 13 hours of active labour, toning over every surge, my voice was a choir of voices, my lineage singing with me. I laboured in bed, in the bath, by candlelight, and in the toilet. The experience was deeply healing for my family — generational healing. The ripple effects of his birth resounded through my ancestral line, and through my community, and ever onwards. So three cycles of 9 were complete. 9 months of carrying my daughter; 9 months between her birth and my son’s conception; 9 months of carrying my son. I had stepped into the flames and their devouring embrace. I reached the centre of the Labyrinth; the moment I knew was mine. I emerged, transformed and empowered and euphoric.
You can listen to Henry’s birth story here.
After my birth experiences, I knew my vocation lay in traditional birthwork. To inspire, guide, and support women on their journeys through the spiral Labyrinth of birth; whether they are transmuting prior birth trauma or stepping onto the path of their first pregnancy. To be on my knees before the sacred altar of childbirth; to serve with reverence. In 2023, I completed an intensive Birthkeeper Mentorship with the beloved traditional birthkeeper Carla Sage. In 2024 I completed her Postpartum Care Mentorship, among other workshops and trainings. I began attending births and holding space for mothers in postpartum in 2024, and am continuing my training with the Birthing from Within frameworks in 2025.
ANCIENT MOTHER BY REBECCA MARY
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