Baby by Candlelight

A couple of nights ago in the wee hours of the morning, a fat, happy baby boy slid earthside into a tiny cabin in the woods. No running water, no electricity, no bathroom.

While a lone massive old-growth cedar stump stood sentinel outside the door.

Just candles and oil lamps and a few buckets of rainwater for our hands and to gently wash his mama's legs and feet as she got to know her new baby, who latched in minutes and nursed like he'd done it for eternity, and not for the very first time.

Simple, quiet, joyous, perfect.

A birth to heal the last one's wound on my fledgling midwife heart.