At one time around week 38, I sat down to draw a blooming flower, hoping that my body and my daughter would be inspired by it and that the most important day of our lives would begin. Well, it didn't really work. Nothing and nobody seemed to get started, but the flower turned out beautiful, and I enjoyed the art of making it. Its size also happened to be approximately the same as the total dilation. I set it aside, and I waited and waited. Then, after much excitement and anticipation, when my daughter started her path of birth at midnight on the 2nd and 3rd day of the 40th week, I was first overwhelmed with immense gratitude, and for the first few hours, I kept repeating: thank you, thank you, thank you. As events progressed and I dove deeper and deeper into the unknown world of labour, walking up and down the apartment and spending time everywhere, I had an essential request to my husband and my helpers: always keep this drawn flower in front of me. I let the profound whirlpool take me down to the deepest core of birth, where neither life nor death is relevant. In the middle of the most intense contractions, I kept saying quietly and loudly, "I'm opening up wide." And I did. I became a great gateway between Sky and Earth. I remember the all-encompassing euphoria when her body finally slipped out of mine. 💗 Tina