What My Bones Know
Taking the phrase "I feel it in my bones" to a profoundly new level.
If you read my last post, you know I had the recent misfortune of miscarrying twin babies. That’s all context you need for the words I want to write today.
A few days after my loss, my midwife reached out and offered to perform a Closing of the Bones ceremony for me. I had never had one. I hadn’t thought to ask nor did I even associate that ceremony with miscarriage. But when she offered, I didn’t hesitate. And I hope as I describe the experience you can keep an open mind to why this is near and dear to my heart.
First, what even is this
Closing of the Bones, known as Cierre de Caderas (closing of the hips) or La Cerrada (the closing), is a ceremony rooted in Mayan and other indigenous Latin American cultures. It has been passed down through generations of midwives for centuries. Similar versions have existed in Morocco, Russia, Ayurvedic tradition, Eastern Europe. This is not a new thing.
The premise is simple: pregnancy and birth require the body to open up physically & spiritually. You become a vessel to life. A portal. And when that season ends, your body deserves to be closed as it was once opened.
A rebozo (a traditional woven shawl) used as a tool during labor — is used to wrap the body at seven key points from head to feet. It tightens around you and holds you. Think mummy. And that might be symbolic too.
In Mayan tradition, this was done in the days after giving birth. But it isn’t only for women who deliver healthy babies. It’s for any woman whose body has been a vessel — after birth, after loss, after miscarriage, after the childbearing years come to a close. The body opens. The body closes.
This practice deeply resonates with me because our bodies experience things on a physiological level that our minds and souls haven't yet found words for. The grief lives in your tissue, your hips, your chest, not just your thoughts. Which is why I was eager to put those pieces together, the emotional and physical pieces, that is. The grief I feel — to be fleshed out and processed in this physical ceremony.
Stained With the Tears
The ceremony took place at my birth center. The same room where I gave birth to my daughter three years ago. A full circle moment.
On the bed lay seven rebozos that stretched the width of the bed. I lay down in the center of them. Six women gathered around me. Doulas and close friends, women who deeply love and respect birth, motherhood and the sacred work of bringing life into the world.
Before we started, my midwife Melissa, shared some beautiful thoughts with me. She said: your body opened a portal to life and to the creation of life. Now it’s time to close that portal. This doesn’t mean we are closing your grief. You can still be sad. But physically, we are going to close the bones. And then she said, It’s okay to cry. These rebozos are stained with the tears of many other women.
I exhaled and then we began. They wrapped my head first. Then my shoulders and ribs. My womb where all of my babies have grown. My hips, knees, and feet.
At each place, the wrap was tightened to my pressure comfort, until I gave a subtle nod.
When I was fully wrapped, the women stood on each side of me and pressed their hands and bodies against me fully, a perfect counter-pressure balance. Three on each side. They held me for several minutes.
The tears started flowing, as I knew they would. Then came a little quicker once I heard and the women in the room weeping at my side. The emotion was palpable. With my eyes closed and fully blindfolded I felt it fully. They finally released their hold, and laid their hands on me softly. I reached out for as many hands as I could hold, and squeezed them each saying thank you to every hand I found.
They unwrapped me from feet to head. And my bones were closed.
A beautiful and sacred commemoration of my twin pregnancy that I’ll never forget.
Now, if you’re reading this and thinking that sounds a little woo-woo
I would like to respectfully challenge that. Especially you who have spent time and worshipped in an LDS temple. That worship, that devotion, involves specific clothing, gestures, words, and physical ritual performed in a sacred space. That is ceremonial. So before you call this act woo-woo, consider this:
Closing of the bones is a practice that is ancient, cross-cultural, and predates Westernization by centuries. It is not a trend. It’s not for content. Communities around the world have been doing this for women after birth and loss since before Christ came to the earth. Of course as women we seek meaning and the Divine. We have since the beginning of time.
The women of scripture were not strangers to this either. The Hebrew word for midwife, yalad, means to travail alongside, to help bring forth. Hannah expressed her grief over an empty womb with her whole body. The scriptures describe her weeping, fasting, pouring herself out before God. Her physical experience of loss was not separate from her spiritual life. These women understood that the body and the spirit are not separate. What happens to the body matters to God. That is not a new idea. That is firmly established in the Bible.
Faith + Grief
I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I believe in seeking light and truth wherever it is found. Nothing about this ceremony felt at odds with my faith. It felt like an expression of it.
I felt God’s love through those women. He will find us wherever we are, even and especially in our grief.
If you have miscarried, or given birth, or are standing at the end of your childbearing years — this is a powerful expression of honoring those formative experiences. My friend who was present left saying “Wow I really want to do that before I turn 40. To celebrate the close of my childbearing years.” I couldn’t think of a more beautiful way to mark the passage of motherhood.
My body has carried life and it has carried loss.
My twin babies were real. My body’s work was real. My grief is real.
And my bones are closed.
All my love,
Juliette
If you’re curious about finding a practitioner, ask your midwife or doula, or search for Closing of the Bones or Cierre de Caderas in your area. It can be received after any birth, any loss, or any major life transition — even years later. It is never too late.
If you are local to me (Utah County), please reach out, I would love to honor you and perform a closing for you.
Sounds lovely and I hope it settled into your self as well as your bones
This was absolutely stunning. I just delivered my first 💕💕