Seasons of a Birthkeeper
When birth work was first ignited in me, I was a young woman entering my own childbearing years. I was learning about pregnancy, birth and motherhood not only through books and teachers, but through my own body and through my own babies. My children and my work grew alongside one another. The seasons of my family and the seasons of my work became deeply intertwined. Now, almost three decades later, something feels different. My children are grown. They are young adults making their own way in the world. They are now around the age that I was when I was becoming a mother myself. As I look at them, I realise that I, too, am standing at the threshold of a new season. Not yet a grandmother, perhaps, but certainly no longer the young mother who first stepped onto this path. This week I also quietly moved into inactive status with my professional midwifery certification. It was not a decision made in a moment. Like many decisions that matter, it unfolded over time. There were practical realities, changing requirements, and many months of trying to find a way forward. But alongside all of that was a growing sense of acceptance. Sometimes life gently asks us to pause, not because we are giving up, but because we are being invited to listen more deeply. Although there is definitely an aspect of experiencing the loss of something I worked hard to achieve, it also feels like an opportunity to stop for a while and ask a different question. Who am I, in relation to birth, in this season of my life? For many years I have cared deeply about building bridges between different worlds. I have been grateful to study and work within traditional, academic and medical spaces. Each has taught me something valuable. Each has helped me understand birth from a different perspective. I have appreciated being able to move between those worlds, and I remain deeply thankful for the opportunities my professional certification has opened for me. But over recent years I have also found myself reflecting on something else. Can the deepest work of birth ever be fully held by institutions? Not because institutions are without value. They have an important role. Good legislation can protect women. Education can deepen understanding. Professional standards can help create safer care. Yet the healing of birth itself begins elsewhere. It begins in homes. In quiet rooms. In relationships. With women and with babies. In communities willing to sit beside one another with humility, love and presence. I don’t know whether I will return to active certification. I don’t know what new forms this work may take. Birth has taught me many things over the years. One of the greatest has been that life cannot always be forced into our timelines. There are moments for action. And there are moments for waiting. There are seasons for pushing. And there are seasons for allowing something new to gather itself before it enters the world. Perhaps this is one of those seasons. And for now, that feels like that is...
Read MoreStories are teachers. Stories are guides.
Last week I found myself immersed in stories. Within the Ubuntu Birth Attendant Reflection Spiral we began sharing the stories that have shaped us as birth attendants. A few days later, within the Silent Birthkeeper, we spent our session reflecting on birth stories themselves and the many ways they continue to teach us. It reminded me that stories are one of the oldest ways knowledge has been passed from one birth attendant to another. Stories are teachers. And they are guides. Long before textbooks and research papers, there were stories. The woman who laboured for days before her baby was born. The breech baby who suddenly flipped in mid labour and surprised everyone by being born head first. The haemorrhage that looked frightening but resolved beautifully. The births that changed everything we thought we knew… These stories become part of us. They quietly shape how we think, how we respond, and what we notice when we sit beside another woman. They feed our intuition: that quiet, embodied knowing that cannot be taught in a classroom but only by sitting with birth. They deepen our gut sense as birth attendants. And they expand our understanding of what is possible. Like a tree that is slowly shaped by the elements, so too are we, as birth attendants, shaped by the births we attend. Over the years, I have learnt as much from the births that unfolded gently as I have from those that ended in heartbreak. Both have been my teachers. But stories ask something important of us. They ask us to learn without projecting. To remain open to the uniqueness of each mother and baby. To allow every birth to unfold on its own terms, rather than through the lens of the last one we witnessed. Perhaps this is why gathering together matters so much. When we share our stories, we preserve knowledge that might otherwise be lost. We remind one another that we are not carrying this work alone. And together we slowly grow not only in knowledge, but in discernment. I feel deeply grateful that the True Midwifery community continues to create spaces where these stories can be spoken, witnessed, and held with great...
Read MoreWhy I Teach Birth First Aid
I was not trained first in emergency. I was raised first in trust. I grew up in the mountains of Ceres, about an hour down a dirt road from the nearest town. We cooked on fires. We had no electricity. If you called an ambulance, you would wait at least an hour. So we learned to take care of ourselves. My mother grew medicine in her herb garden. She dispensed remedies to the local people. We learned first aid simply because it was necessary. I remember sitting at twelve years old with tweezers, picking glass out of a man’s scalp. It wasn’t dramatic. It was just part of living far from everything. That was my first education in steadiness. My mother became a traditional midwife almost by accident. The first birth she attended was a breech. She turned the baby in labour and the baby was born well. After that, the local women called her when they were in labour… I have no memory of anything “going wrong” at those births. Birth happened in the middle of the night.And life went on. That imprint shaped me. So when I teach Birth First Aid, I need to be clear: The focus is not emergency.The focus is physiology. In most cases, birth unfolds beautifully when the mother feels safe and unobserved, when adrenaline is low, when the environment is right. But nature also teaches us that not every flower opens. Not every peach ripens. There is a small percentage of mothers and babies who require some help at birth. Over the years, and across roughly four hundred births, there have been rare moments when I needed to step in. And I have been deeply grateful for the muscle memory in my body when that happened. Not to control birth.Not to manage it.But to gently bring things back onto their path. Birth First Aid, for me, is about this middle path: Deep trust in physiology.Clear understanding of normal.And the steadiness to respond when something truly requires action. Using your head.Using your heart.Following your gut.And when needed — using your hands. That is why I teach this course. Not because birth is dangerous. But because birth is powerful. And power deserves steadiness. Join us for the next cycle of the Birth First Aid course:...
Read MoreA Gentle Orientation to Birth First Aid
When people first encounter the Birth First Aid for Mother and Baby course, questions often arise, not just practical ones, but deeper, quieter ones too. This page is here to offer a gentle orientation and to answer some of the questions we’re most often asked. Birth First Aid is not about fear or anticipation of emergencies. It’s about preparedness, calm thinking, and being resourced enough to respond with care when something unexpected arises. Do I need to be a trained midwife to take this course?No. This course is open to anyone attending births at home: including doulas, traditional birth attendants, student midwives, birthkeepers, and parents. It’s designed to meet people where they are, whether they are just beginning or deepening an existing practice. Is this course only for home birth attendants?The course is designed with home and low-resource settings in mind. That said, many hospital-based birthworkers, especially those working in rural or under-resourced environments, find the principles and skills supportive and grounding. What if I can’t attend the live sessions?All live sessions are recorded and shared within 24 hours. Many participants join live when they can, and catch up later when needed. You’ll have access to the material for several months. How long do I have access to the course?You’ll have access to the course content from 24 February 2026 until 4 August 2026, allowing time to revisit material and integrate what you’ve learned. Are payment plans or scholarships available?Yes. We offer flexible payment plans in USD, EUR, GBP, and ZAR. Scholarships, sliding scale options, and returning student discounts are also available, because accessibility is a core value of this work. Is this a clinical or protocol-based course?No. While practical skills are taught clearly and carefully, the course is rooted in traditional midwifery, physiological birth, and respectful care. It’s about thinking clearly, not following rigid scripts. If you’re feeling a quiet pull towards this course, trust that curiosity. You don’t need to be certain or “ready” in any particular way — just open to learning, reflecting, and preparing with care. You can read more about the course and enrol here And if questions remain, you’re always welcome to reach out directly to...
Read MoreClosing the Bones of 2025, Opening the Spiral of 2026
As this year draws to a close, I find myself reflecting on what it has meant to move through 2025 together, not just in content, but in relationship, presence, and shared inquiry. Our final Study Spiral of the year, Closing of the Bones & Honouring Lineage, arrived as a fitting threshold. It felt like a conscious closing of the bones of the year itself, an invitation to gather what has been lived, learned, and felt across the Study Spirals, and to allow it to settle. Closing of the Bones is an ancient rite found in many cultures, most widely recognised through Latin American traditions and the use of the rebozo. In our final gathering, we explored it not as a technique, but as a rite of passage, one that supports integration after birth, loss, illness, initiation, or profound life change. A central thread of the session, and of the year as a whole, has been lineage and integrity. We reflected on the responsibility that comes with receiving and passing on ancestral knowledge, and on how ancient wisdom can live in modern contexts without losing its soul. As the spiral widened, we spoke about rites of passage across the lifespan and the deep human need to be witnessed and held in community. What emerged clearly was this understanding: these thresholds are not meant to be walked alone. As I close the bones of 2025, I feel deep gratitude for this community, for the way it continues to flourish, nourish, and grow with each spiral. Thank you for the depth, care, and presence you bring. At the same time, I am quietly delighted to be opening the next turning of the spiral. The 2026 True Midwifery Study Spirals The 2026 Study Spirals will unfold as thirteen monthly gatherings held across the year. Together we will explore newborn care, reproductive health, birth justice and legal terrain, grief and creativity, elderhood, herbs, freebirth, and the reclamation of midwifery, always held within an intentional, respectful, global container. You can view the full 2026 schedule and details here:https://true-midwifery1.teachable.com/p/true-midwifery-study-spirals-2026 As we move toward the solstice and the festive season, True Midwifery will be entering a summer pause from 19 December to 19 January, honouring the seasonal rhythm here in South Africa. I am trusting this time of rest and integration, and looking forward to returning in the new year, ready to gather...
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