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Category Archives: Fathers at Birth

Beginner’s Mind

“But I’ve never done this before”

Says a dad in the second row

From the back.

The big one with the brown beard

who secretly reminds me

of a friendly bear

with thick reading glasses.

“How will I know what she needs?

How will know how to support her?”

That’s why you need a doula,

I want to say.

Someone who has been there before.

But I don’t

Because I sense

That a dad brave enough to ask these questions

In front of the whole antenatal class

Is probably a dad

Who will understand

the secrets

of supporting

a woman in labour.

So I sway a little

On the big yellow birth ball

I like to sit on

When I teach

I think a little

About what it takes

To be with a woman

During birth.

“You will know what to do”

I tell him

“If you are really there

truly present

Each moment

In that room.

Do not think about

The breakfast you never had

Do not think about

That meeting you’re gonna miss

Above all

Do not think about

The rugby

The cricket

Or anything involving balls.

Take off your shoes

For the ground on which you’re standing

Is women’s holy turf.

Switch off your cell phone

and let that room

let that woman

become your entire universe.

Watch her closely

And you will know what to do

Listen to her

With more than your ears

And you won’t say

Stupid things

That’ll get you in trouble.

No, don’t write it down!

Just listen

Practice with me

Practice being present

In this moment.

Do not think

That your lack of experience

Is a handicap.

I am not a better doula

Hundred births down the line.

In fact, I might be worse.

For beginner’s mind

Is a shimmering pearl

Of magnificent value.

Not knowing

Being open

To things as they unfold

Are way more precious

Than tools

Tricks

And techniques.

You cannot go wrong

If you love her

You cannot go wrong

If your intentions are pure.

Leave your expectations

At the door of the labour ward

And enter the birth room

With your cup empty as a beggar’s.

When it is all over

And your back and shoulders ache

As if you’ve carried her

Belly and all

The entire way

Across the desert

She will turn to you and say

‘I couldn’t have done it without you’

And you will answer

‘But I did nothing

My love

You did it all.’

Trust me,

Nothing

Will be more than enough.”

The dad looks at me

Bemused

Befuddled

His mouth opens and closes

Like a goldfish

Flapping his fins

On the dry threadbare carpet.

He never finds his voice.

But Thabo

From the front row

who is not shy

his hand goes up.

“That was some speech

That was inspiring

Now I was just wondering:

Would all of that

Be in the notes?”

 

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