But FIRST: On MOTHERHOOD AND THE OCEAN

Have you ever noticed that the ocean is strikingly similar to the waters of a mother’s womb? Not all have tasted the saltiness of their babe’s amniotic fluid - the water world within which they lived amphibiously before being delivered to land - but I have, and it tastes exactly the same as the sea.

Can you connect to what it was like to exist in the salty waters of your mother’s womb? Can you taste the ocean, and at once feel your beginning? To travel even further back in time, contemplate, for a moment, how the first life-forms of this planet originated in the sea. Can you feel the truth of this in your body? How incredible that this magic ‘pocean,’ so to speak, is what facilitated your growth into a beautiful, birth-giving, postpartum-expanding human being, capable of creating and ushering forth life itself. Pocean, when spelled as such, is definitive of the essence of this magic, for living as one with nature is the primary element of the potion at hand.

Returning to the vast oceanic womb of Mother Earth as children, as adults, as mothers, is akin to returning to that liminal space between living a life inside the body of another, and living a life of your own. The waves of labor force us to emerge on land, just as the waves of the ocean will carry you back to the shore. Sometimes the waves feel impossible to overcome, but those who live outside of fear will quickly learn to surrender to the power of the ocean, and trust that once the energy of the pummeling waves has passed, she will encourage you to rise to the surface to breathe life into your lungs.

This is not to say the ocean cannot be destructive. Just like mothers, she can both create and destroy. She is capable of powers that remain unimaginable until you naively cross her by assuming you are stronger than she is, or that you could outsmart her with ease. Mothers are similarly capable of the unimaginable, and thus you would be wise to tread lightly on our shores. With a healthy respect for our power and wisdom, humanity will find joy and comfort in our presence, and will benefit from our deep wells of inner knowing.

There is magic within salty waters, be it sea or womb, for water is life. As humans, we are meant to enjoy these waters, to grow within them, to be one with them. We are meant to always sense a deep belonging to them. For mothers, the ocean can remind them of what it means to be small, and serve as a reminder of the magic of their womb. Staring far into the horizon, where the sun kisses the sea, can allow for moments of pause in the company of all five elements. Earth, fire, water, air, ether. All are present on the shores of the sea. Immerse yourself in them and feel the importance of your existence. You are of the sea. You are wild and powerful, just like the sea. Remember this as you mother. You too can create waves and life; you too are majestic and vast; you too are beautiful and wise.

You too are magic.

can you imagine What life has been like for those giving birth and caring for a brand new infant in 2020?

It appears that most of humanity doesn’t want to give this life circumstance much thought at all. And yet, it is my strongly held belief that the world must hear the stories of those who are mothering their infants intuitively, wildly, consciously and with intention during such times of profound illusion. Mothering with these values is innately an act of resistance, and rightfully so. We are appalled at the willingness of society to sacrifice us, mothers and children, at the altar of scientism in exchange for the false sense of safety being touted and forced upon us by false prophets. Mothers are the foundation of society, and yet they have been abandoned for “the greater good.” The “greater good” cannot be great or good without centering mothers and children in all considerations regarding public health. Isolating them is not centering them. Rather, it is exiling them.

In spite of this truth, mothers and infants are being forsaken to uphold and protect dying systems. These dying systems broke our connection to nature long ago. They destroyed our relationship with our environment, the plants, ourselves and our immediate communities under the guise of removing all discomfort and hardship from the experience of living life in a human body. Instead of relying on our own physical forms, innate wisdom and natural inclination to thrive in our earthly environment, we’ve been trained to look outside of ourselves for answers and security.

Rest assured, this is not a political space, for there is nothing political about supporting thriving life for mothers and infants. It is simply what we are called to do as humans experiencing life on this earth. Further, no ill will is directed toward those friends and family members who felt it important to avoid the new mothers and babies of these times. We can understand the confusion that occurred at the beginning stages of this death of societal life as we knew it. But, let us be abundantly clear, this overarching abandonment and ignorance to the importance of our postpartum expansions can no longer continue.

The forced isolation of mothers and children is not health, rather it is the opposite of health. It is humanity’s suicide. Let it be known that mothers will not settle for a death culture, nor will we settle for any way of existing that does not nurture and support the beautiful lives of our children and families. We are the creators of life, and we will not acquiesce to demands for submission to an incapacitated existence. Doing so is not in any of our best interest.

It is time for all of humanity to consciously bear witness to the metamorphosis of new mothers, for they must be witnessed in order to complete their rites of passage from birth to postpartum expander to matriarch. It is time to thank them for what they are doing by listening to them and doing better by them, and it is time to honor their babies and bless their journeys, which have begun at such a strange time in our human evolution. If we do this for mothers, we will most certainly begin to change the world for the better.

Mothers and babies will no longer remain hidden.

See us. Hear us. Believe us. Care for us. Watch us as we bring forth the new earth through the ways we birth and raise our children, and through the ways we share our stories. Our stories of wild, sovereign motherhood are the medicine the world needs, and mothering in connection with the earth is the magic potion that will indeed break this destructive spell that has corrupted humanity for far too long. I ask the mothers who have given birth in 2020 and the years that have followed to please share your story with your fellow members of the human race. We want to witness you in all of your glory as you continue to love and nurture these beautiful beings who chose such a powerful time to come to earth. Your story will absolutely cure the world’s ills, because a newly postpartum mother is a sacred vessel of pure, beautiful life force, and it is life force that has the power to change the tides in our favor.

radical.

Radical, in its truest definition, means of or relating to the root of something (especially in relation to botany). It also refers to something that is revolutionary and whole.

Postpartum refers to the state of a mother after giving birth.

Though modern times have led to the incorrect notion that "postpartum" is itself synonymous with "depression," postpartum is really a basic term that applies to what is often referred to as the fourth trimester (the three initial months post-birth). In actuality it can be used to refer to any woman who has had children, i.e. "I'm five years postpartum." Another word for postpartum is "postnatal," the latter being used more prominently outside of the U.S.

Expansion is growth, the act of becoming more extensive.

After giving birth, a recently postpartum woman who is held in love and honor rightfully expands to fulfill the role of mother. Her being expands to include that of her newborn baby, who, though no longer held in her womb, is deeply connected to her for at least another nine months. We refer to this time of the mamababy dyad (also known as mamatoto) as "exogestation," or gestation outside of the womb.

These three words together perfectly describe the time period after a radical sovereign woman gives birth to her child.

A radical postpartum expansion is rooted in self-love, strength, power, responsibility, choice and connection with Gaia (our Mother Earth). It is a state of being that is rooted in real in-person community, reverence for our herbal allies, connection with our natural surroundings and the innate knowing that our bodies are innately wise temples providing a temporary shelter for our souls.

Radically and literally speaking, our bodies are one with our earthly environment. They follow similar, if not identical, cycles to those of other animals and plants. They are made of water and they rely on the same sun as our earth-grown food. Within them we are guided and influenced by the moon and stars, and we find true healing within the sacred relationships we have with all that grows in the soil.

Birth and postpartum are completely intertwined with our natural world.

The radical expansion of a new mother relies on nature's gifts to facilitate healing, growth and forward movement in her journey as life-giver and primal nurturer. Relationships held with members of her family and community are pivotal to her ability to fully heal and assume her new matriarchal role in society. We are not separate from one another, and thus isolating mothers under the guise of safety will never work as a healing modality.

This is why those of us who gave birth just before or during the year 2020 must share our stories of survival. We are newly postpartum mothers radically raising our babies in the wake of international upheaval and counterintuitive guidelines regarding public health. Those who have experienced a radical postpartum expansion during this time will never be the same, and our intuitions are loudly telling us not to comply with the incorrect defining of our experiences as inherently depressive and unavoidably solitary.

Let it be known that our birth and postpartum experiences have been life-affirming because we have made decisions for ourselves and our babies that themselves align with life, truth and the deeply held belief that, by living lives connected to the natural cyclical unfolding of things, we are creating a new earth that is NOT rooted in fear. Our new earth, as founded on the radical postpartum expansions of mothers worldwide, is rooted in LOVE, and love is what will prevail. Love is what will show us the way toward real, life-oriented ways of being. Come join us as we gather and share our stories of radical postpartum expansion with the world.

Hello, I'm Kaitlin. I am mother to three daughters, the youngest of which was born in February of 2020. Up until then, I served my community by attending births as a birth doula and caring for mothers in their homes as a postpartum doula. My older two daughters and I were often found at parks, beaches, friends' houses, my parents' house or frequenting our favorite local shops and museums. Everything changed when, in the midst of my own radical postpartum expansion, the world turned upside down and everything we had built and known for the last few years was no longer our reality.

In navigating the stormy seas that we call "postpartum in a pandemic," I came to realize that, though my old version of community no longer existed, the new version that I created based on my own intuitive wisdom and maternal creativity was absolutely beautiful. I experienced time with my children in ways once unknown, and I grew stronger in my power as their loving protector. After a solitary first few weeks at home, I received community support from unexpected places and I found that I was capable of surviving - and thriving - in less than ideal circumstances.

Now, after years of living this way, I can confidently say that my experience as a newly postpartum mother during this time of upheaval has been extraordinarily life-changing in all of the best ways. I attribute this to my freebirth experience (giving birth to my baby in my own home, without any medical presence, was profoundly empowering), to my husband (he made me feel loved and safe even in his absence as an "essential worker") and to my close friends who were more than willing to be with me and my children in spite of the "safety" orders in place. We built our own radical community of intuitive mothers and took care of each other when we all needed community the most.

The Magic Pocean project was born of a void I personally felt while experiencing a decent portion of my postpartum expansion under such confusing and lonely circumstances. While the name had come to me a year or two prior, the concept of sharing postpartum expansion stories came to me suddenly and with fervor as I nursed my baby to sleep in her wrap. From what I could tell, there was no space to go that truly understood how to support postpartum mothers in these times of forbidden human contact and nature “closures,” especially those mothers who didn’t align with the public health orders in place. There were no stories of other mothers' "postpartum in a pandemic" experiences to bring me comfort, nor did I have all the tools I needed to properly care for myself and my children in isolation.

Up until now, every postpartum care resource has emphasized asking for help and surrounding oneself with community; isolation was (and is) a huge NO in regard to postpartum healing. But these times of birthing and raising infants are so very different from before, and that is why I am creating this storytelling space. Magic Pocean serves to share and preserve the stories of mothers so that we can learn from them. Mothers know what is needed to support thriving life, and it is up to us to provide them with communal care so as to enable them to continue birthing the new earth with abundantly full cups.

The stories of my youngest daughter’s birth and my radical 2020 postpartum expansion thereafter will be shared eventually. Until then, I leave you with this poem that I wrote a few months before growing pregnant with her: