18/08/2025
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What if we told women the truth about birth?
We’d have to tell them that contractions will probably be more than “surges” or “sensations.”
That they’ll probably rock your world and leave you begging for salvation as you clutch the edge of the tub or the hospital linens.
That your gentle breathing exercises and your Spotify soundtrack will be left in the dust as you sweat and pant and sway and swear your way through it
That you’ll trip harder than any mushroom you ever did in college and vomit with the same ferocity and travel to places deep within yourself that you didn’t know existed.
That you’ll float above your body and simultaneously be trapped in it with an intensity you’ve never tasted.
And in that intensity,
in the sweating and the swearing
and the swaying and the vomiting
and the endless hours of contractions crashing down upon you ...
You’ll find your strength.
You’ll find a resilience you’ve never known.
You’ll find the power you need for the journey of Motherhood ahead.
In the messy humanity of it all,
you’ll find that you are holy.
A portal to the divine.
Capable of indescribable miracles.
A vessel of sacred life.
What if we told women the truth about birth?
We’d have to tell them they are capable of anything.
Worthy of being treated like goddesses.
Made to walk through the flames,
surf the tidal waves,
dive into the underworld
And come out alive.
Not unscathed.
Not unchanged.
But whole
and healed
and ready to take on the world.
If we told women the truth about birth,
we’d have to admit that we’ve lied about everything else,
and that they are more powerful,
more fierce,
more capable,
more beautiful,
than we’ve ever let on.
If we told the truth about birth?
We’d shatter the world.
Words and Art: Catie Atkinson
