The Birth of Daughters

A year ago, I had every intention of launching DAUGHTERS with all of my heart. To bury myself in the work of it. And instead I found myself in an unsteady state. Fresh off the summer of manic episodes and an eventual collapse.

The darkness swallowed me.

I just kept trying to keep my toes touching the shallow - as I went deeper, dug through pain, coughed up conversations, retreated to gather strength and hibernate away from the shame that accompanies us in the dark.

Just as the light started to peek through what felt like a new sunrise for me, my mother in law fell ill. And I knew in my heart it was time to take care of my elder; a woman as kind and loving to me as any mother to her own.

A man whom she loved said it clearest - “Dying is hard work, and it is now our work to support her.” 

And, I did.

We did. Her community. Her son. My husband and I.

After digging through wounds of our love, and finding each other again, we found a bittersweet richness in loving his mother and helping her ease her way out of her physical body and on to the next. 

It was gut wrenchingly beautiful. To lovingly accompany someone on their journey to the other side, whilst falling back in love with her son who I have loved for 15 years thus far.

I share this story with you because too often we hear the stories of the light, but it’s in the dark where the magic, growth, and where we meet each other.

We have to go into our depths, or shadow work as the witches may say. Not because we need to feel pain, but we need to feel. We need to let the richness, the heaviness, the gravity and weight of the moments to be felt. In ceremony. In ritual. With ourselves, with each other. The dark collects the most tender together moments.

In our joy of coming together again and in the throws of taking care of his mother, Alex and I conceived our only daughter. Liz did not live to see her be born, but she knew I was pregnant. The first time I knew I was pregnant - I was sitting with Liz, telling stories, reading Native American folklore and trying not to throw up. I will cherish these moments. Being with a woman who I knew I would never see again after leaving her bedside this last time, knowing a daughter was potentially growing inside of me and tears streaming down my face as our entire family walked to the elevator.

The ugly joy of the tears.

The tears of a daughter that was gifted another mother in her life.

The pain of losing her.

The knowing of her spirit as I wilted into pregnancy.

...Well and then, Covid and the new Revolution came about. My cave was dark. My body was still, but our Daughter gifted me with the light.

Willow T was born at home on August 1, 2020 and she was the Daughter I needed to manifest, this time last year. 

And today, after years and years of playing with formulations of various things, standing grounded in myself, grief processed for an old cycle of life, swimming my way out of darkness and onto the new shore of myself, DAUGHTERS is ready.

DAUGHTERS is much more than some other organic something or other, DAUGHTERS is a collective of women, products and brands out to build a better world for our daughters. We are here to collaborate and expand upon one another and our work in the world to bring about the together moments of light and dark. To help the feminine embodiment find its way.

But more on all of that later, in another birth story.

For now, try the Betty Balm, she’s fucking outrageously delicious. And thank you SO much for supporting DAUGHTERS, she is still unfolding and becoming who she is.

 

With love,

Whitney

Founder

All Imagery by Teal Louise Photography 

 

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