Tapestry of Sound

This spoken word poem was written by Chelsea Carver, and performed at the Motherhood Speaks event that was held by NOVA in the fall of 2015. Chelsea works as a NOVA doula and childbirth educator, and is currently studying to receive certification as a lactation consultant, and has a passion to work in the field of lactation in India. Words have always been important to her, and her ability to speak words that impassion and touch her audience is a gift that we are so grateful for!

Tapestry of Sound

Jack and Jill went up the hill

So Jill could have a baby

Jill fell down and broke her crown

And Jack went to NICU with the baby

 

Birth is not always beautiful, and gentle and full of light

For some of us, it is the beginning of the fight of our life

Be quick to listen and slow to speak, 

Don’t be so sure you have the right to tell me

How birth is supposed to be

 

So many voices raging towards the podium to have the last word….

Instead of a choir, stories woven together 

For a tapestry to be heard

 

Perhaps because we’ve fought not to be silenced 

Perhaps because the noise is always so loud

But don’t let the wave of current “should” and “shouldn’t” 

Turn your story into the drum line for someone else’s sound 

 

Women, share your stories, voice your heart, 

Sing

Take YOUR place in telling the story

Of Birth

 

The cries of women far and wide

 have swung like a pendulum from side to side

From shrieks and sirens, pandemonium, 

birth is a pain and we need the drugs.

No one tells stories like Hollywood does

 

Now another wave to beware

Telling me that unless I’m gentle and breathy, 

I’m not fit to bear

Beware oh ye birthworkers, 

You who promise so much

Because in the end, birth is a flame much too hot to be touched

By someone’s well-intended promises 

 

Birth may come as a candlelight

Quiet and illuminating

But it may also catch the wind and dry leaves

Causing a wildfire all consuming

And you just don’t know until it comes

 

Beware oh ye mothers who bear 

No two births are the same

Tell your stories, speak your heart

But beware, birth is a flame

We dare not separate a woman from her birth by causing her shame

No, 

no, this is not our way

 

 

So many voices raging towards the podium to have the last word,….

Instead of a choir, stories woven together 

For a tapestry to be heard

 

 

Mother blessings, baby showers

We refuse to birth without our female ya-ya power

We are together, a choir, 

a tapestry of sound 

So make room for one another so all voices may abound

 

Roar your story, or whisper, 

But remember those who are listening

That they are listening, and reaching, 

for some semblance of control… some seeking a foothold on what to expect

Others just looking for someone to accept 

That their birth wasn’t wrong, or bad, or a failure….

 

Women don’t hear the directness of a coach

“good job, atta girls” 

No.

We’re looking for “me too! I felt that way!”

Or “totally, I’ve been there, there is no shame!” 

We look for our place among the mothering

 

So be careful Oh loved ones, 

About the promises you make 

For the most we can say is “I’ll be there, 

no matter the time or day.”  

 

Jack and Jill went up the hill

So Jill could have a baby

Jill fell down, but her sisters were around

So Jack sighed relief, so did Jill and her baby.