There is a wave of births; first one and then another and another and another. I dream I am swimming in a warm blue sea with the mothers and babies and the baby takes my hand and says, '"we'll do this together" and we drift in a place of dreams and trust until we come ashore and they are born. I dream and then more and more come. Eight babies to scoop up before they reach the floor in a swish of warm water, to breathe life into, to wrap their mothers reluctant arms around, to bring to the breast, to weigh and dress, to wipe and clean and change the sheets and begin again as the one before smiles and waves good bye and walks down the dirt road to home and family and another comes.
When I close my eyes, I am standing on the beach and the waves carry all these babies to me. They are laughing and cooing and I am collecting them like beautiful seashells and with my arms full, I carry them to their mothers who are waiting.
These are the dreams of a midwife, even now as it grows quiet
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