On this day, twenty-five years ago, I lived in a tropical climate, so I was coatless in the car, at dawn on dry, traffic-less streets on my way to the birthing center. 

All night, I had dozed, in and out of contractions, dreaming of teenage angels who were counting the minutes between contractions. The psyche sends her helpers. 

I grasped, later that morning, a power, my breath - fierce in its focus, pulling me inside, deeper than I'd ever been: finding my center - not my lungs - but my soul.

When you discover a heightened state of consciousness, you trust it may always be enlisted.

Birth of my breath, my breath, my breath and then

at her first, she is born

All photos and text copyright 2017 by Kelly DuMar