Why Honeysuckle Doula?

As the symbolic flower of those born under the Aries zodiac like myself, honeysuckle has long been one of my favorite flowers. As spring begins blossoming and welcoming a new transition after a long winter of turning inwards, the fragrance of honeysuckle wafting from the distance always reminds me of the sweetness that comes with big change. Believed to have powerful properties that can cleanse negative energy and promote healing, they are also among the toughest of plants despite their sweet and fragile look - just like families undergoing immense transition. Those in transition between pregnancy, birth, postpartum, loss, or abortion are often portrayed to be fragile and in need of protection, but the reality is that they are some of the most powerful beings capable of withstanding earth-shattering changes. Even the numerology of this powerful flower points to doula work: associated with the number 9 - quintessentially representative of gestation and pregnancy – it is often seen as a symbol of personal growth and transformation. The honeysuckle welcomes you to ponder your own transformation as you walk this path into a new chapter of your life.

In an effort to honor my own birth under the Aries zodiac sign as I honor others’ journeys and transitions, as a way to invoke the imagery of newborns suckling on their parent(s)’ love and nourishment, and in hopes of welcoming families called to receive my offerings on a wide spectrum of support needs, Honeysuckle Doula wraps you in a warm embrace and invites you to honor the sweetness and strength that exists within yourself and those around you.

“For now let me tell you about the bush called honeysuckle

that the sad call a weed, and how you could push your little
sun-licked face into the throngs and breathe and breathe.

Sweetness would be your name, and you would wonder why
four of your teeth are so sharp, and the tiny mountain range

of your knuckles so hard. And you would throw back your head
and open your mouth at the cows lowing their human songs

in the field, and the pigs swimming in shit and clover,
and everything on this earth, little dreamer, little dreamer

of the new world, holy, every rain drop and sand grain and blade
of grass worthy of gasp and joy and love, tiny shaman,

tiny blood thrust, tiny trillion cells trilling and trilling,
little dreamer, little hard hat, little heartbeat,

little best of me.”

“Poem to My Child, If Ever You Shall Be”
by Ross Gay