Libation, a poem
"It changed me; It changed the way I look at life," said this woman about her profound experience during her pregnancy.
She felt that the life she co-created with her partner–even though only for a short time–was sacred and divine. Around the same time of her pregnancy loss her father died. Because she had been exploring spiritual beliefs from African traditions, she had a different understanding of these two losses than she might have had otherwise.
"My baby is not lost in some abyss somewhere," she said. "My baby is with my Dad and all of my ancestors."
She also reflected on a healthcare system that still provided sub-par care for women like her. She mentioned that too often, pregnant Black women were seen by healthcare professionals as barely "human-adjacent," which could be seen in medical illustrations, beliefs about Black women and pain, and all manner of other ways.
Her hope was that all physicians could be trained to provide better care for all their patients and felt that this improved training must include teaching about the long history of medical racism.
Listener Poet Yvette Perry
Health4Equity
April 2022
Libation
Yemoja’s water broke,
flooding rivers into life.
The water of my tears
and my flowing blood
are libation
for the sacred life
I co-created.
My connection is
still strong,
though my baby
has joined my father
and other ancestors.
All are loving on my baby.
This is a great comfort.
I celebrate with them.
From a white pitcher
I pour river water—-
cool to the touch
and ancient to all memory--
onto the sun-cracked earth,
whispering
ubuntu
ubuntu
ubuntu
I am
(a mother)
because
you are.
