Birth Anarchy

We are not mindful or demure in the birth room

We refuse to be managed

We become unmanageable

Ungovernable.

Their best effort are spent, not to keep us safe,

But to keep us contained—

Our emotions, our voices, the intensity of our pain, our fluids,

All of which we should be unleashing shamelessly with utter abandon.

Their best efforts are spent on their own convenience,

On routinely undermining our inner voice and our bodies,

Confining us to a bed, keeping us small and predictable.

Meek, sick, disabled, an emergent situation.

But we RESIST.

We spread out.

Our birth.

Our terms.

We are not their inconvenience

They are ours.