The Sacred Waters of Birth

A reflection on my Aries New Moon water birth

Five years ago, I gave birth to my lovely daughter on an Aries new moon. A fire moon. A beginning moon. The first spark in the zodiac wheel, bold, primal, and full of life force.

And yet, I birthed her in water.

This elemental dance, fire igniting within and water holding without, was the paradox that shaped my sacred birth story. The Aries new moon surged through me like a wild river of determination, while the warm pool wrapped around my body like the womb of the Great Mother herself. It was in this space, between contraction and expansion, that I crossed the veil and brought my daughter Earthside.

As a Scorpio Sun with a Pisces Moon, I am water through and through. I feel the tides in my bones, the undercurrents in my soul. Water has always been my sanctuary, my teacher, my mirror. It is where I return to remember, to feel, to dissolve and to rise again.

Water is sacred to me.
It speaks in silence.
It holds without gripping.
It transforms without force.

And so it was only natural that I would give birth surrounded by this ancient, feminine element. The water held me like an ancestral tide, ancient and knowing. I remember sinking into it as though returning to a memory that lived long before this life. The soft blue light, the quiet ripples, the rhythmic breath — inhale deeply through the nose, exhale fully through the mouth — became my only companions. The steady beat of my heart became a drum echoing back to the heartbeat of all the mothers who had birthed before me.

Water, the element of emotion, intuition, and inner worlds, created a sanctuary for my Shakti to rise, not with violence or resistance, but with surrender and elemental power combined. I felt the fierce fire of Aries within me, but I was cradled by the waters that knew how to hold it. It was a union of opposites. A holy convergence. A rite of passage.

In that moment, I was no longer just a woman. I was the sacred river and the one crossing it. A vessel of cosmic creation. A portal. A priestess of the threshold.

My daughter arrived calmly, as if she too remembered the waters she was born from. Her cry, soft yet certain, cut through the stillness like the first sunrise after a long night. I held her to my chest, flooded with emotion. Not from pain, but from the sheer magnitude of love, of mystery, of the miracle we had just embodied.

To birth in water is to return to Source.
It is to remember that before we were held by arms, we were held by waters.
That within the feminine body lies an ocean of wisdom, memory, and power.

This is why my water birth was sacred.
Because it was elemental.
Because it was ancestral.
Because it was mine.

And five years on, every Aries new moon reminds me of that fire within and the deep waters that carried me through it all.

To read more about my full birth story and the forty days that followed, explore Chapter 5 Birthing as a Sacred Ceremony in my new book The Sacred Womb eBook. Get your copy and journey through the elemental, cyclical, and mystical portals of womb wisdom.