I Am Grateful.

Before the holidays, I traveled to New Mexico for Birth Center Equity’s Beloved Birth Conference, where Baby Yams was invited to participate as a vendor. Being present in that way—setting up, sharing our work, and engaging in conversation—felt deeply aligned with why Baby Yams exists in the first place.

What made this trip especially meaningful was that it was a full-circle moment for me.

Seven years ago, New Mexico was the site of the first maternal health conference I ever attended, facilitated by Saraswathi Vedam, Lead Investigator of the Birth Place Lab and Professor of Midwifery, at University of British Columbia. I was six months pregnant at the time, carrying my youngest baby, and searching—actively, desperately—for answers to what had happened to me during my first birth. I wanted to understand what went wrong, and I hoped that whatever I learned might help keep me and my baby safe.

It did.

That conference changed the course of my life. It reshaped my expectations of care, expanded my understanding of what was possible, and connected me to people and practices that ultimately protected us both. The advocacy work, the relationships, and eventually Baby Yams all grew from that moment of seeking.

So returning to the same land all these years later—after so much learning, building, and listening—felt intense and unmistakably on purpose.

This time, I arrived not just as a participant, but as a vendor. I set up my Baby Yams table and I shared our quilts. I spoke about story, design, intention, and building. Bringing Baby Yams—the tangible representation of my own journey toward safety and agency—back to this place felt profoundly meaningful.

Vending at Beloved Birth wasn’t about selling in the traditional sense. It was about presence. Over the course of the conference, I had the chance to say hello, exchange stories, answer questions, and talk about how our quilts are made, why they’re designed the way they are, and how Baby Yams’ philosophy informs our donations and partnerships.

People lingered. They touched the blankets. They asked about stitching, symbolism, and sourcing. They shared their work and trials with me. Those slow, embodied conversations felt just as important as the panels themselves.

Between vendor hours, I listened to speakers and panels that were generous with both insight and honesty. The realities of this moment—political, economic, and systemic stressors—were named clearly. The pressure on birth workers and the communities they serve is immense.

And still, people showed up.

They shared what’s working. They exchanged strategies, working towards systems of care that are culturally rooted, community-led, and deeply relational. Brick by brick, something real is being built—even when the path forward feels fragile.

The highlight of the trip, without question, was visiting the Breath of My Heart Birth Center, which serves families in the Tewa Basin.

Being invited into that space was a profound honor.

Breath of My Heart is a living expression of sovereignty, culture, and care. The space was warm, light-filled, and intentional. Nothing felt sterile or extractive. It felt like a place where birth is trusted, where families are held, where beauty is integral to care.

Walking through that space clarified why returning to New Mexico with Baby Yams mattered so much. This land holds the beginning of my own journey toward safety and understanding. To return carrying the work that grew from that journey—to share it, to place it in conversation with others doing this work—felt deeply right.

 

I left New Mexico carrying gratitude, resolve, and a renewed sense of purpose. The challenges facing birth workers and the communities they serve are real, and they are heavy. And so is the brilliance, resilience, and generosity of the people committed to a better way.

This trip made that unmistakably clear.

As we move forward, I’m holding this experience close—why Baby Yams shows up in rooms like this, why we give the way we give, and why we remain committed to supporting Black and Indigenous birth workers who are building care that is rooted, sovereign, and beautiful. 

Brick by brick.
Breath by breath.
Heart by heart.

I am grateful.