The story of my son’s birth was mysteriously erased from my computer. Centimeters of dilation lost, timeline lost, contraction history lost, direct quotes from my doctor lost. The medical story, the story of facts and numbers, vanished.

At first I despaired in the loss of history and record. I thought, “I need to write it as best I can again before I forget ALL of it!” But when I thought about re-writing the whole thing, it felt like a bore, like a labor I did not want to endure. Maybe that was the universe sending me a message: That story does not matter. Or, that story is not your story. There is another story underneath that story. A story of inner journey. A story of the senses. A story of imagination and the worn landscape of birth.  [Read more…]