// about

a warm welcome.

hey, i’m hannah alley.

the one with the mullet, big teethy grin, cowboy boots & American killer on the tellie. That’s me. I grew up in a small town in Wisconsin & look back on that little girl with such love, because this was taken around the time memories become foggy. This girl is goofy. she makes me laugh. she’s who i’m remembering as I sit here, mug in hand, sipping cold coffee while writing this.

there are so many layers to peel back before getting to her. but before you invest the time going any further, let me just say, my most inner core, the drop in the cosmic ocean i hope will ripple out and resonate…

i want to feel, deeply, the world around me and, in return, be deeply felt. and smile doing it.

that’s it, the whole coconut. or at least the meat inside.

I have the greatest privilege of witnessing women in the birth portal, sitting at their feet as they usher in new life. I am a doula, birth educator, and birth photographer.

Women hold all of humanity in their womb. They are the sacred vessels that bring forth life … you don’t get any closer to God than that. The more i dive into this work, the more I see into myself as a reflection of the birth space and i’ve come to learn this to be true: How we birth & are born is a reflection for how we live …. and vice versa.

I hold deep reverence for the mother, the mothers who came before me, and our ONE great mother, Mother Earth. and damn, a well-nourished mother is healing balm to all.

on that note, if you’re into astrology, and want to try and figure me out: I’m an aries sun, scorpio moon, cancer rising with a pisces north node. My life is that of a spiritual path, which may help set the stage for what’s to come.

My childhood was complex … as most are; full of chaos, heartbreak, and a whole lot of love. I almost wrote ‘but’ instead of ‘and’ but that implies tragedy, and my story is anything but. I experienced polarity before i could name it — an understanding that great suffering and love can live under the same roof. life is messy like that. you’re bound to get dirt beneath your fingertips if you really dig deep enough, and i’ve never had clean fingernails.

my most complicated relationship was the one with the women who birthed me.

I was born at 11:55 a.m. on Monday, April 4th, 1988. My mother’s waters released at Church on Easter Sunday. Three years later, my brother was born. Six months later, she disappeared into the fog, needle in hand, leaving our family fractured with a father who did the best he could with what he had.

I spent every day since then, searching …

searching for love

for my mother

and for God

what impact does a mother leaving her family have on child? where does one learn of God and of love? Abandonment was a wound that grew and become infected with a distrust of love and deep seeded belief i was unworthy of it. The story protected my heart and so I built a wall so high, no one could climb over.

I turned to writing as a way to navigate the chaos, and leaned on this medicine throughout my life. to this day, there’s not a notebook in the house that doesn’t carry my ramblings on my pain and pleasure.

this is a great set up for a hero’s journey to begin, wouldn’t you say?

I know what it’s like to seek outside validation to prove worthiness, and try to reduce yourself to not take up space. I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. Much of my energy was put towards this — adding value, being productive, and mirroring the behaviors of those I perceived to be successful so i could learn how to behave, think, love, and be useful in the world.  I was everything to anyone; yet, no one could access me.

As a result of that abandonment wound, or maybe it’s my Aries Sun placement, there was much unrest. I was in a constant loop of doing.

Bachelor’s & Master’s degrees, three jobs in the service industry, volunteering, publishing peer-reviewed research in high level journals, working at ad agencies & racing up the corporate ladders, building brands, writing Superbowl ads, telling other people’s stories — if it proved I was good, I did it.

i climbed so high to find happiness didn’t exist at the top.

years & much interpersonal work later, I’ve learned doing more doesn’t increase my worth.  more projects doesn’t equate to greater acceptance, make me more lovable, or bring me closer to God.  With more I become disembodied. 

I’m worthy just because i’m here.

my life now is learning to be.

i’m being & doing a lot slower these days.

unless it lights my whole body up with a resounding yes, i’m out.

unless i can put my whole heart in it, i’m taking myself out.

I believe the womb is sacred, capable of birthing babies, creativity, pleasure, and joy. Our bodies remember, they know the way.

There’s an inherent connectivity between all things, and once we find the thread within us … we can follow it home, to the most magical existence. 

birth & death are two threads that lead us to the same place. love.

Two major events occurring within two years that really humbled me, turned my world upside down, and inspired me to step off the well-paved path that had offered me stability in a life of chaos.

First … the birth of my son cracked me open, showed me the magic of trusting the whispers deep within the self. He showed me an expansive love that was unconditional & unassuming, offering permission to love life without fear it would break me.

The birth of my son led me to doula work. still birthing, just of another caliber. 

i softened as woman when I became a mother... the wall i had built transformed into a fortress of oak trees and wildflowers. I stepped into myself with tenderness & an integrity I hadn’t known before.

He introduced me to the purest form of love that I trusted completely. wholly. undoubtedly.  

and this has been my journey over the last several years … remembering my place among the sea, moss and stars, unfolding into love.

second … when my mother died of a drug overdose while living with me in 2017, I learned surrender. Her death ripped open the grip I had on the world and the limitations I placed on myself. All the tension in my body became stories that needed undoing and rewriting.

So, I returned to the medicine I knew so intimately as a child to process the big emotions and to help me weather the storm raging within.

I could no longer ignore the stories that lived in my gut and hips … my body demanded truth-telling, ached to be felt. it was screaming to be seen & cared for.

A world of pain moved through me and I allowed it. I ate the darkness and birthed new light. When I looked in the mirror, I saw truth. It was ugly and beautiful, painful and mystical. I could see beyond the mist. I turned to the wind, and let it flow through every fiber of my being,

And finally begin to live like it.

For the past several years my writing has explored the intersection of birth & death, sexuality & spirituality, nature & humanity, the divine feminine, self-longing, alchemy, love and motherhood.

lately, life looks a lot like:

  • mornings perfecting the pour over coffee & afternoons sipping cacao.

  • making a lot of lunches & smoothies for my son, & being a proud soccer mom. 

  • morning hikes & walks with my dog

  • a lot of yoga & jui jitsu

  • asking my partner what’s for dinner. practicing loving him well.

  • talking about birth or being at a birth, witnessing beginnings.

  • reading or writing— currently publishing my debut poetry collection.

  • streaming UFC fights on a Saturday night

  • laying naked under the sun in my backyard

  • In Wisconsin at my countryside dream house, slowing down & birthing an airbnb experience.

  • a constant rotation of house, business, & personal projects

  • Thinking about the perfect girls night but never planning it.

adventures i like to take, and take often:

  • floating in the ocean off the Meixcan coast.

  • roadtrips south of Tucson

  • camping trips in the forest

  • stepping into an unknown city, finding a good cup of coffee & people watching

  • climbing trees & chasing waterfalls (cue TLC)

  • writing retreats, medicine ceremonies, sister circles.

  • the midwest in the summer & fall — lots of pizza & open mic nights at Dancing Yarrow, days on the lake, & live music.

  • joining phish on tour

  • going up to the ranch with my partner’s family— hundreds of acres of seclusion.

  • I’m always in some sort of container or cohort, learning: midwifery, somatic facilitator training, anything on the nervous system, yoga teacher trainings … literally anything that interest me.

  • writing poetry along the way