A Festival Centered Around Music, Birth, Motherhood, Collective Healing &Ancestral Care
WombFire is a living circle — a gathering where women, mothers, and families are held, healed, and celebrated across every season of life.
It is a festival, a retreat, and a village — created so that no woman feels alone in her journey through fertility, loss, pregnancy, birth, postpartum, and beyond. To nourish and hold the mothers, and those mothering the mothers. To every woman who has walked through life’s thresholds and for those who witness, hold and tend to them.
We are a community that remembers how to live in tribes, where the medicine is found in music, art, storytelling, and the weaving together of our lives.
We are here to honor mothers time after time, to provide proper nourishment, safe spaces, and healing care for every stage of the cycle and to those woman who never receive the medicine they offer.
WombFire is where women feel safe to shine in their own light, to be seen, to be heard, and to be mothered themselves.
It is a space that restores confidence, joy, and deep connection — a place that inspires women to leave feeling stronger, more authentic, and more true to themselves.
This vision is born from ancestral strength and carried forward by community.
It is for the women who have longed for their tribe, for those who crave vulnerability, raw honesty, and belonging.
It is a place of sacred ceremony, of storytelling, and of celebration.
At its heart, WombFire exists because we believe the gathering of women is the medicine the world needs — a fire that brings healing, prosperity, and peace into every home it touches.
My Story - Our Call
Womb Fire was born from a deep calling — a vision for collective healing, a place where we are held, seen, and supported not in isolation but in community.For more than a decade, this vision has lived and breathed in my journals, in prayers whispered under the moon, and in moments of tending others.
Hi — My name is Taylor DeMur, holder of Woven Wisdom Birthwork and now, WombFire.
I always felt the pull to create something bigger than myself — something that wove together my love of birth work, community care, and the sacred act of gathering.
The call grew clearer over time:
I always knew I was meant to serve women, to walk beside mothers through their thresholds, but over time, I understood that my calling was even broader:
To build spaces of belonging — To bring people back to the fire.
And I also saw the ache here, in this country — how so many mothers are left to navigate these sacred transitions alone, without the web of community that should surround them. I noticed how much of our cultural and ancestral medicine has been forgotten or fractured.
As a white woman in birth work, I’ve learned that while many of us long for deeper cultural connection, our black and brown sisters carry ancient traditions and embodied wisdom that have too often been hidden, dismissed, or made inaccessible. That truth breaks something open in me — because those ceremonies, those songs, those rituals are not just for some of us; they are for all of us.
Our culture has forgotten much of that wisdom. In America, we are a melting pot of traditions, yet so many mothers — especially white women — have become untethered from ancestral practices of care, while again, our black and brown sisters have carried this ancient, potent medicine that often goes unseen or inaccessible to them within this system.
I believe healing begins when we gather across those lines, with reverence and humility — when we listen, when we learn, when we share what has been lost and remember that none of us can rise alone.I have always been drawn to what happens when people gather around a shared purpose — from holding space for children at a rural woodland camp , where we created a circle of safety around spirituality, song, and wonder, to years spent traveling as a nurse and learning from other cultures about how they care for one another. In every corner of the world, I saw that true healing lives in togetherness — in ritual, in song, in tending each other’s hearts and bodies.I was meant not only to walk the path of birth and midwifery, but also to help rekindle the fire of connection — to create a space where women and families could remember what it feels like to live in community, to tend one another, to heal together.
Womb Fire is my way of helping to bridge that divide.
It is a place where black and brown women can share, lead, and be fully supported — and where white women can come to learn, listen, and be reshaped by what we learn together.
It is a place of reverence, not taking; a place of returning and repair.
This festival is only the beginning — the first spark of a larger vision:
To create a Birth & Women’s Wellness & Retreat Center — a living, breathing sanctuary for women and families to be nourished, educated, and healed. A place where black and brown women have access to culturally rooted care, and where white women can continue learning how to support, not overshadow — how to walk in right relationship with the lineages of care that came before us.
Through this festival, and through the circle it creates, I hope to gather the energy and resources to bring that center to life. WombFire is more than an event — it’s a movement toward remembering what it means to belong to one another.
This is for the mothers, midwives, birth tenders, doulas, and healers.
For the artists, musicians, and medicine carriers.
For the women who give and the ones who are ready to be held.
For all of us who are remembering that healing is not a solitary act —
it is a circle.