The birth of Sailor Beau

This pregnancy was a gift. Something I had been begging to happen. Begging life, begging my partner. I had and still feel that the only way to soothe my heart, would be to birth another child and fall to the alter of that love, because loving a child is a very special and certain kind of love. One that is really untouched by most of the world, its extremely intimate. This love almost feels like a cave, that is so pure and innocent that God even knocks before entering.

With this pregnancy and birth, I had planned to birth at home, just as before but I found myself feeling everything so different. My confidence during this pregnancy was a lot different, and I can blame that on maybe past trauma but I am not going to go there and try to victimize the situation. I will say I let fear in sometimes, and I also believe comparing pregnancies to one another usually leads to fear, because none are alike in my opinion. Comparing in any life situation usually doesn’t do much help. Everything is unique, new and fresh when looked at in its own divine light.

I have waited awhile to talk about this birth story because it has brought up big feelings for me, like shame and guilt. I will say, I had really told myself birth is one way and it cannot be another. Prior to my birth, I took the week off from working in the woods and decided to stay home and bubble bath, drink tea and just be with myself. While doing so, at night I would watch and listen to lectures on birth trauma and homebirth and really resonating with the idea of how awful hospitals are, and if you birth there, you will ruin your childs life, creating lots of trauma, which will affect their entire life. So here, I am, firmly believing I will not birth my baby in a hospital. Not now, not ever and so what happens when I find myself in the hospital? My stories about birth are washed away, and I am quite humbled by what birth shows me. I now see birth as a conscious energetic being, who has a lot to teach us about how fluid she truly is.

My sweet child, wanted to come out. He was so ready and whatever baby says, does and feels usually goes. So I find myself feeling really big feelings, ones that aren’t stopping when I shift, I have blood coming out of me, I don’t really know what is going on, I feel confused and I feel scared because deep down, I can’t loose this baby. We believe he is roughly a month early. Where I got the idea of loosing this baby, I don’t know but I can’t exactly get into the mode to deeply trust the Universe, but my body shows me otherwise. I lay in the bath, dumping magnesium salts, lavander, cooing, singing, moaning, watching my baby flip and get comfortable to come out. He slows down. I slow down. I call my sweet partner back home, he gets to the house and I am waiting on the front porch. At this point, I am in full on labor, but still in denial. The feelings of pushing are so surreal but I hold them back. We end up going to the hospital.

We end up going to the hospital.
We end up going to the hospital.
We end up going to the hospital.

I am humbled.

We pull up and walk in. I am not a patient here, I have no insurance, I want my baby to be okay. My baby is perfectly okay. They ask me what is going on at the front desk and I can’t even tell them. I am holding back in my body. They grab a wheel chair and take me up to where the delivery rooms are. I go into a small little room, and a sweet women named Ellen comes in. She asks me what is going on and asks me to go to the bathroom and put on a gown and pee. I think “oh, no..if I put the gown on, I am a patient.” I have this feeling of run come across my mind but at that point, I couldn’t even put the gown on. I don’t, and I tell her I can’t physically put on the gown nor does it seem important to me. She has me lay down and she feels inside me. I watch her face change, her attitude is “go.” She says I am dilated at 7m. She then tells me I am going to have my baby. I look at her and ask “is my baby going to be okay.” Her and another kind women tell me my baby is going to be born perfectly fine, and I really believe them. I move to the actual delivery room.

The room is bright, and the windows are big. The sun is coming in, and behind the bed is a picture of a giant pink flower opening. I choose to find peace in that.

At first, I am quite surprised at how many people are in the room. I ask why so many people are in there and no one answered really. I guess that is how they do things. I remember surrendering into something, God, life, my baby, I just had to really sink into this cloud and get comfortable and okay and feel safe in my own body with where I was. Because I was where I was, and this baby was coming. They have me lay down, how they do, and I had to let go of some stories I had created about that. I knew he would slide out if I could be on my hands and knees, and of course that isn’t how they birth. They are accustomed to a more forceful way, a more European way, the way mister Louis XIV liked watching his mistress birth.

Transmuting. My new favorite action. Transmuting is like my new magic wand, I wave it where I want things how I want them and it shifts my attitude, creating a new environment that I get to be in, whether or not those around me change theirs.

They have my babies heart beat on the monitor and its playing. Perfect birth soundtrack. Its the sweetest sound, hearing the heartbeat and I can birth to this. I know it. They ask me if I want pain meds and I almost feel offended, I decline. They are passionately telling me to push and at a certain point, I felt exhausted from their demands. I really wanted to settle into this cloud I was on, and breathe into it and breathe my baby out. But they were definitely on fear island. The doctor, a man, who I can tell from his energy wasn’t passionate about birth, nor did he view it as the beautiful bridge between life and death, that it truly is. I transmute him. At a certain point, he seems to get upset with me, because I am making more noises then pushing. I feel he is irritated and I 100 percent do not take this personal. I choose to stay in myself and know that if I give into his fear, some serious intervention might happen and yes, I said I wouldn’t birth in a hospital and here I am but over my dead body will my baby come out another way then naturally through my vagina. He tells me the heart rate is dropping. I don’t buy into. I start to really trust into my baby and my body, and choose to let this birth happen how it is. and I choose to push, real hard, just to have these people off my crotch.

My baby slips out and Taylor is right there to catch him. He is purple, the color of lavender, the cosmos, amythst, wisteria, clay, veins. The cord is wrapped around his neck four times. I know he is okay, I don’t panic. They unravel the cord. Then they take him to make sure he is okay, of course since he is “early.” Those few seconds felt like eternity, but he came to me right away. Now the shame comes in with knowing my baby went elsewhere after coming out of me. Taylor reassures me that he kept his hand on him the entire time and this eases me. I did not want any trauma for my baby, not when first being born and I am sure there is some that arises from being birthed in a hospital but he is laying on my chest now and I kiss his damp head, and he latches onto my breast right way. I feel home. I feel like I just pilgrimaged home and I have this precious soul, laying on my chest, and we are reunited. My life feels complete and I ignore the presence of anyone else near me. I have my son.

I had him within twenty minutes of being there and I am thankful my body, mind and spirit came together, intertwining to let me birth so quickly somewhere I had associated a lot of fear with, and to let go of that. For a hospital birth, it was gentle. I chose to make it intimate, and loving, despite having so many around me, who may have been worried. They have us stay a few days to make sure he is okay, me and Taylor both know he is so healthy. We never leave his side, only to go to the bathroom and if one of us got sleepy, we would sleep near him or do shifts. After what seemed like forever, we get to go home. And I cry such happy tears on the way home, I finally get to be alone with him. I believe it is easy to shut out the world but to know that their are no other eyes near nor watching us, allows this love to evolve even deeper.

I birthed my son in a hospital and I would of never planned to, but with where I was in myself, I did the best I could at that time. I have to accept and forgive myself, and know that love can override anything. My baby was born naturally, delayed cord clamping, no vaccines, uncircumcised. He was born perfect. The birth was extremely fast and I feel lucky that I got to walk into a place when I felt confused and and for the most part have what I want. Sailor Beau was born February 24th, at 2:04 in the sunny afternoon. Born whole and perfect.

When I got pregnant I vowed my life and heart to this spirit. I cannot imagine a more perfect soul to give my life to and to adore and love. He is now one month and I can’t really imagine spending every waking hour with anyone but him. I feel like I have waited an eternity to have him beside me and we finally can stare into one anothers eyes. There is no bridge between us, we get to be alive together in the same realm. I feel blessed beyond words to be able to mother a child. I feel chosen by him and how special that feels, to now you are chosen by another.

I choose to love no matter where I am.
I choose to love you always Sailor Beau.