Midwife Mythologies

Writings from the threshold.

Where story meets cycle and care becomes ceremony.

This is a blog written in the spaces in between. In waiting rooms, postpartum silences, late-night birth debriefs.

It’s where words arrive like contractions: slow, invited, necessary.

Here is where the mythic and the clinical meet. A place for the stories that don’t make it into the birth notes.

Reflections from a midwife who holds lineage, loss, blood, and becoming.

These are personal, political, and poetic mythologies—born at the edge of life, death, mothering, and the moments that ask more than words can hold.

I’m Jen—a mother, midwife of women and sacred in-betweens, and occasional writer.

This space exists for the stories that rise up when I slow down.

Sometimes it’s poetry.

Sometimes it’s grief.

Always, it’s about the women.

A woman with short hair, wearing a patterned headscarf and a light-colored button-up shirt, sitting indoors with her arm raised above her head and smiling at the camera. The background features a brick wall, a colorful painting, and a potted plant.

I don’t write often, but when I do—it matters

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