At the reunion of my mindful birthing class, we did a meditation on our birth experience.
Imagine a well.
At first, the image of a hole in the ground popped into my head, from one of the Wolverine movies where the nuke explodes over Japan. At the time I mainly took it as a sign that I watch too many movies of questionable quality, though looking back it makes sense that I have some apocalyptic associations with giving birth.
Eventually I managed to conjure a nicer well in my mind.
There are pebbles on the ground around the well. Find a pebble you like, and pick it up. Hold it in your hand, experience its texture, weight, and color. Then take it to the well and drop it. As it hits the surface and sinks to the ground, see what answer arises to the question “What did you learn?”
My pebble was dark and smooth and heavy. The smoothness, I think, represents my very smooth birth experience with SB. But of course it hasn’t always been smooth. The pebbles started out as a fragment of rock, rough, with sharp edges. Over time it became smoother, being thrown around by streams or waves and bouncing into other rocks. My birth experience certainly felt like forces of nature washing over me.