where I come from – the darkest day of the year

where I am – the brightest

this solstice, I midwifed a woman who was so beautiful in labour my heart rose a little every time I glanced at her
(and I glanced many many times. . . ah the privilege of the midwife!)

and then the impossible was actually. . . like a tear of iron-truth through my hoping and trusting and gently feeling.
actually was impossible.

the baby didn’t come.

we cried together in the operating theatre.  Our heads close together, shielded by the unnaturally blue sterile swathes.

O. but it hurt.

And then suddenly, there was a new breath of air.
In she came – all perfection and wonderment

sometimes you can only stand by and watch.
sometimes that has to be enough.
sometimes you will be loved and remembered for doing only that>

hopefully -
sometimes, there is still enough light.

The brightest light – on here, my longest solstice day.