Yarning from the Heart

When the floods swept through Lismore in 2022, a young mother found herself living in a cramped caravan, heavily pregnant and unsure how she would keep her baby safe. She had no cot, no space, and no way of buying what she needed.

Her midwife — someone she had grown to trust — brought her The Coolamon . It wasn’t just the sleep space or the baby essentials that brought relief, it was the message behind it: you are not alone.

This gift, given through a trusted relationship, helped her feel seen, safe, and supported in a time of deep uncertainty. It marked the beginning of a new chapter — one shaped by care, not crisis.

One mother had been carrying more than just her baby — she carried a history of being judged, overlooked, and let down by the system. She was told her child might be removed at birth.

But her Aboriginal Health Service didn’t see her as a risk — they saw her as a woman who deserved to be supported. They stood by her with a circle of culturally safe, trust-based care.

When she received The Coolamon, it wasn’t just a gift — it was a symbol that she had people in her corner. People who believed in her. People who walked with her, not over her.

Together, they made a birth plan. They prepared. And when her baby was born, the story was different: a mother and child staying together — strong, safe, and held in trust.

This young woman had barely told anyone she was pregnant. Shame, fear, and uncertainty sat heavy on her shoulders. But when she connected with her Aboriginal midwife, everything started to shift.

The midwife didn’t rush. She yarned with her. Held space. Listened. Slowly, they began preparing — not just with nappies and blankets, but with knowledge, connection, and trust.

When The Coolamon was handed over, the young woman paused. For the first time, she saw her baby not as a secret — but a blessing.

“This made me feel like I could celebrate,” she said. “Like I could be proud. Like I had a future with my baby — and people who would walk beside me.”

Living far from Country and mob, one young woman had been feeling the weight of isolation during her pregnancy. She had no one to lean on — until she walked through the doors of her Aboriginal Health Service.

What met her there was something different. A midwife who took the time to listen. A women’s group who welcomed her in. And a Coolamon, given not as charity, but as a gesture of care and belonging.

At a small baby shower hosted by the service, she received the gift and broke into tears. “I’ve never been given a gift before,” she said. “This made me feel like someone actually cared about me and my baby.”

Through the relationships she built there, trust — once broken — began to be gently restored.