The Basic Needs of Babies – a Time to Slow Down
In our fast-paced world, the arrival of a newborn offers an invitation to pause, reconnect, and reflect on what these smallest humans truly need from us. Maria Montessori spoke of the spiritual embryo, a phase of human development that is as significant as the physical growth within the womb. She believed that after birth, the newborn still requires a special, nurturing environment — animated, loving, warm, and rich with nourishment — where everything is done to accommodate, and nothing to hamper their development. This is the heart of The Basic Needs of Babies course and workshop. Designed for parents-to-be, new parents, grandparents, educators, health professionals, midwives, doulas, and birth attendants, this online course is a space to explore how we can gently and practically meet the fundamental needs of newborns. Whenever we gather to run this course, I am deeply moved by how it becomes a true time of deepening. Together, we slow down and become more present — for ourselves, for one another, and most importantly, for the babies arriving in our world. Course topics include:– Understanding the spiritual embryo and our responsibility in nurturing the newborn’s inner world– Creating a sense of belonging and authentic connection for newborns and families– Learning from pioneers such as Maria Montessori, Adele Costa Gnocchi, Frédérick Leboyer, Michel Odent, and Nils Bergman– Exploring the basic needs of mothers in labour and the newborn child– Becoming fluent in the language of newborns through behaviour and subtle cues– The neuroscience of connection and secure attachment This is a time to pause, to listen, and to remember what the youngest humans need to feel safe, seen, and welcomed into the world. The Basic Needs of Babies Course runs from 30 September 2025 to 21 April 2026, with an early bird discount available until 31 July 2025. Click here to book your...
Read MoreThe Power of the Lullaby
Written reflections for Mother’s Day — 11 May 2025 Yesterday was Mother’s Day — and with this commemoration of Mothers and Motherhood, I want to feel into the power of the lullaby: what it means for motherhood, and what it truly is. The power of the lullaby. There are a few threads I want to explore: Discovering the power of the lullaby as a motherDiscovering its power in labourAnd witnessing how it settles the nervous system — not just for the baby, but for everyone When I say “lullaby,” I don’t just mean Hush, Little Baby or Rock-a-bye Baby — though those songs have their place. It’s more than that. Having had four children, I found myself — again and again — in the darkness and stillness of the night, alone with my baby. In those moments, I had to draw on an inner strength, very similar to how I had to tap into that inner strength in labour. There are times when every mother reaches that place — where it feels like you almost can’t go on, yet there you are: rocking, walking, lying with, or feeding your baby. Deep presence is called for. I believe that the essence of the lullaby was born from those moments. It’s the rhythm, the repetition — that rocking motion, both sonic and physical — that makes a lullaby so powerful. Many are passed down through generations and across cultures. They’re usually very simple. Like the Zulu lullaby Tula Baba. Just Tula Baba, Tula Baba… over and over again. It’s not about the complexity. It’s about the transmission. The lullaby is drawn from the place where you feel you have nothing left to give. It’s from that well that so much of motherhood is sourced. And it is a deep, incredible power to be able to tap into that. In labour, I found something similar. Each of my births taught me something different, but in all of them, my voice became a tool. A resource. With my fourth birth, it wasn’t just a tool — it became a channel. When a surge came and I fully opened to it, a sound emerged that was high, pure, and clean. I wasn’t using my voice just to express; I was letting something move through me. It became a channelling of life force. I’ve sung my whole life. It’s always been a way of expressing myself. But singing after birth — after having resourced myself through voice in labour and then using that same voice to connect with my children — something changed. I no longer feel like I’m singing from myself. I feel like I’m singing through myself. That I’m resourcing from the infinite. That’s what labour teaches. What motherhood teaches. That we can only go so far within ourselves. There comes a point where we must draw from beyond — from life force, God, Great Spirit… Now, when I sing, I don’t feel like I’m the one doing it. My voice is the instrument, my body the tool, but what’s moving through is life itself. That is the power of the...
Read MoreWant to know more about the Silent Birthkeeper course?
Are you interested in learning more about the Silent Birthkeeper one-year online immersion with Ruth Ehrhardt? The one-year online course is limited to a small group of people, as it is a personal journey we take together. It is an opportunity for you to spend time with yourself, delving into your relationship with birth, what it means to be a guardian of birth and what it means for you to attend births. The course is held within a tightly held container, and we do our best to honour the unique journey that each person undertakes. One of the beauties of the Silent Birthkeeper space is the diversity of the participants, not only from a cultural perspective, but we have people joining us from all corners of the world and so we get to gather in a monthly virtual circle from different seasons, time zones and hemispheres. The course begins on the 14th of November 2024. Early bird pricing closes on 30 September 2024. Bookings close on 4 November 2024. For more information see...
Read MoreTrue Midwifery is a safe space for ALL birth attendants…
True Midwifery is the home of The Silent Birthkeeper One Year online Immersion and a variety of other courses and workshops are offered online and in person in countries around the world. One of the visions of True Midwifery is to offer a safe space for birth attendants around the world. In a similar way that we want to offer safe spaces for mothers, and babies True Midwifery endeavours to be a safe space for those who guard and protect birth. Sadly there is a lot of fractioning, disparity and othering in the birthing world and the True Midwifery learning spaces endeavour to bridge that gap and to honour that no matter in what capacity we are attending births, we hold at the centre of our calling, the guarding and protecting of the mothers and babies. So we welcome anyone who is interested and feels a connection to birth. Part of what we celebrate in the True Midwifery space is the diversity of the community, not only cultural diversity but also the diversity of what the participants bring into the space. To find out more about the Silent Birthkeeper course see...
Read MoreThe First Time I Ever Witnessed a Fetus Ejection Reflex
The first time I ever witnessed a fetus ejection reflex was one summer’s night when I was attending a home birth as a doula. The first time mother was ten days past her estimated due date and there had been some pressure to induce. She had declined this intervention and made it clear that she would wait for her baby to come. She was a very petite woman and had already been warned by both her obstetrician and her midwife that more than likely, she would require a caesarean and that she should prepare herself mentally and emotionally for that eventuality. The baby hadn’t dropped into her pelvis at all, let alone engaged, her hips were tiny she was told, and she was already very much past her due date. Instead of these remarks squashing her plans and her confidence, they fueled her instinct to birth at home even more and she made it quite clear that she would prefer to be left alone until she went into labour. So, ten days after her due date, she let me know that her waters had broken but that she wasn’t yet experiencing any labour pains. She would let me know once things were happening but for now, she was just going to stay at home and wait and see. She would be in touch. Even though we only lived ten minutes from one another, we were separated by the Argus Cycle tour taking place that day, so even if I had wanted to get to her, I couldn’t have, and neither could anyone else, so she really could just be left undisturbed at home. At around 3 pm in the afternoon, once the roads were open and clear again, I made my way to her home at her request. She and her partner were sitting on the sofa when I got there and after greeting them I sat down on the sofa opposite them. I felt on the spot, they were looking expectantly at me, as if they were waiting for me to do something. She was experiencing the occasional contraction but it was definitely still very early labour and there was certainly not much that I could do! I excused myself and went to the loo, and once I was done, I ducked into the garden thinking, What do I do with myself now? I spotted a cat lying lazily in a spot of afternoon sun on the grass and I remembered Michel Odent saying something along the lines of: “If you are unsure of what to do with yourself at a birth, find a cat and copy what they do. Cats are the ideal birth attendants.” So yeah, I went and sat with the cat. She didn’t seem to mind too much that I was infringing on her bit of sunlight. At first, I sat a little stiffly, I felt awkward. But soon, her laziness rubbed off on me and eventually, I too was stretched out enjoying the last rays of afternoon sun. The mother came out into the garden and asked my advice on what she should do. I asked her what it was that she felt like doing. She said that she was tired and felt like resting and sleeping, so I said, “Well, why don’t you go and try to do that.” So off she went. And I stayed with the cat until the sun set. I snuck back inside the house (like a cat) and saw out of the corner of my eye the mother sitting cross-legged on the sofa, propped up by pillows, resting in between surges...
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