I went to the music and started the soundtrack to “Out of Africa.” As Myra drew down the shades, Mama said, “Now, Mr. Jim, I want you and Maggie to get nice and comfortable, and get into your position behind Maggie in the bed. Maggie, now, just keep your legs up and let Jim get in behind you there. Jim, you let Maggie lay back on you and, Jim, you just wrap your arms around Maggie and rest your hands on Maggie’s tummy.”

Maggie and I dutifully complied, as at this point we had totally surrendered in complete trust to Mama Vermillion. Under Mama’s expert care and wisdom and love, we both sat there in bed together with our baby coming and music playing. And, in wonder of it all, we let go into the miracle of birth and life and love.

Mama and Myra then excused themselves from the room, leaving us together and in the silence and peace of the birthing of Layla.

As Mama left the room and closed the door, she said, “We’re just out here, children. We’ll be checking in every ten minutes or so.”