"One of them wants to crawl up onto my chest, all slippery and wet, to be held by Mama. My girl is all long, leggy limbs, but I can still cradle her against my chest with the stronger larger bicep of my right arm and smell the top of her head. He's not far behind, sliding through the water, pulling himself up over the landscape of my figure to find a spot nestled in my left arm. He's squishing himself into a small bundle of toddler torso, chubby feet, soft arms, and folded legs, just so he can fit into the curve of my bones and flesh. As my two children rest in the arms in which they were given to me as swaddled newborn bundles, they look up with the same sleepy smooshed up faces. She's on the right and he's on the left. Their little growing bodies press against mine and I have no doubt they are emotionally attached to me. Each time one of them makes this journey through the warm water upwards along my body and I reach down to hold either of them, I imagine that this is what it might have been like to birth at home. This is what it feels like to put someone you love, more than you could ever imagine, onto your heart and allow that love to soak into them. It will be with them forever regardless of how they entered the world."
- an excerpt from my story of birthing my babies