I mean they don’t call it labor for nothing…
 It’s been a awhile.  I have been taking my own advice that Winter is For Sleeping (you can check out the Muse-letter archives to read that one from last year).  I have been sleeping, thinking, reading, writing, and hibernating within myself quite a bit in the last 2 months.   And then all of a sudden it was Rohan’s 9th birthday and I realized it was time to step back out.  Time to stop growing on the inside and get born already.  If you remember those last weeks of pregnancy, you know what I’m talking about…Let’s get this party started!   

So here’s a little chronicle that I created on IG about what it was like to be born those 9 years ago… 

01/26/2020:
9 years ago I was in labor with this cherub (below). It started in the middle of the night after a long, fast hike the day before

I was at home, hanging out in my robe (that I wore for weeks after), my friends all came by at different times to distract me. I remember Michelle bringing me candy

My dog doulas walked around with me eating all the food I dropped but was too lazy and crampy to pick up

I didn’t even know yet I was going to meet the most incredible human I have ever known in all my life. And that I had done and I was going to do the coolest most fantastic thing I have ever done in all my life

Today’s not his birthday…it’s not for 2 more days. I’ll tell you a little more about Day 2 tomorrow…😜 But this day 9 years ago things were in motion that couldn’t be stopped, things that were so, so hard, that I thought could break us. We ain’t broken, that’s for sure ❤ 🔥 

01/27/2020:
Today was Day 2. Crossing the threshold into the Nether

At this point 9 years ago, I had been working my ASS off for many, many hours. It wasn’t being handed to me; it was kind of being blown apart

Labor is a lot of things. Fucking intense. Hard. Thrilling cuz every time you do a contraction, you never have to do that one again. Powerful cuz holy shit you just did that. I had hundreds of contractions at this point. I was thrilled, powerful, exhausted

And as a midwife who had helped hundreds of babies and parents enter into this world safe and loved, I knew…it was time

Time to go get more help cuz even thrilled, powerful, strong people need help. Sometimes we need the most.
Stay tuned for Day 3 ❤ 

01/28/2020:
Today was Day 3 and our birth. Before you get your knickers in an knot about “OMG! 3 days!” know that he was great. I was great. We were both healthy and well

In a country where we heavily pathologize birth, know that our beliefs about what is ‘normal,’ is very much a cultural construct. And that countries that witness low risk healthy people’s births as just that (and utilize midwives as primary maternity care) have FAR better outcomes than we do in our system for parents and babies. Hands down

Now… back to our regularly scheduled program

By this morning, I had a tube coming out of my back that was bathing the nerves of my pelvis in pain meds. This meant I had to stay in bed. And couldn’t get up to pee. I had a tube in my urethra to my bladder because #peehappens . I had a tube in my vagina measuring pressure of my contractions to make sure my baby was getting squeezed hard enough but not too hard. I had a tube in my arm connected to another tube that brought fluids and meds into my blood

Sounds pretty healthy and normal, huh?

The most annoying tube though was the one that was connected to the blood pressure cuff that squeezed the fuck out of my arm every few minutes. For hours

But the parts that I always look back on with deep pride are these: that he kicked like mad all the way out, that I pushed him out like a motherfucking queen even while strapped down like a wild animal, and that my community of friends were all there smiling, loving, and protecting us all the way

And…that when he was coming out, *I* got to bring him out and up to me. I’m pretty sure I told my friend and colleague to give me *my* fucking baby. She let me get him

I didn’t even know that this magical human who arrived, who I already loved more fiercely than I had or have loved anything, was going to get more magical

They say kids are gifts. They teach us more than we teach them. What isn’t always said is that each day they are alive and with us, those gifts and lessons multiply. Like exponentially

I don’t just feel lucky to be his mom. I feel mesmerized. And aware of the deep honor I have received cuz we have also lived as people pass on or life changes. This dude 💗 

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