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.