Untouchable

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Untouchable


I can sense that I am an unborn
fragment of something vast.
Wet winged I am
in the face of my emergence.

With not much more than a thin veil
between my present self and my future self,
the patterns that define me can be seen.

I feel the winds sway me left and right
leaving me unsure of my purpose,
let alone my survival.

Yet I shall persist
in making sure I exist
outside of this translucent captivity.

Though I am compressed within
this thinning illusion that I crafted
via my own unconscious doings,

I know that I shall soon expand
to a capacity beyond
anything I have known thus far.

I can feel in my center that
one day my wings will spread
and drip dry on the earth
as my inner river flows through them,
surpassing their edges.

Oh yes, my wings will fill
with the forceful energy of life,
and my heart will swell with the knowing
that I was right about my worth.

One day I will love myself
so much.


The imagery of metamorphosis has had a profound effect on me in my adult life. I find that it appears in so much of my writing, which makes plenty of sense considering my vocation as a mothercare devotee and protectress of the motherbaby dyad post-emergence.

Metzli, my most recent baby birthed, was the catalyst for my current cocoon state. Yet, I fear that my inactivity in virtual spaces has created the illusion that I am no longer doing creative or birth-focused work. The truth is that I have shifted everything in my life to be a present mother of three first, and a business-oriented woman second, or perhaps never again.

One might think my daily activities are thus mundanely limited to cooking, cleaning, and problem-solving for little ones. Of course these tasks are prioritized by default, but I am a creative, just as you are, and I have learned that maintaining my creative life is crucial to my overall wellness and ability to be a heart-centered mother. The artistry of motherhood is my lifeblood, and I am the one wielding the pen that creates my future.

This new presence means that I am writing and visioning behind the scenes at every opportunity - all in the interest of elevating mothers and children. I am blessed to have my own children as my muses, and the new versions of me that continually appear as I forge my mothering path are also my muses. Every iteration of myself inspires new revelations in the realms of both being a mother and caring for other mothers. It's deep, dark, and fertile work, and I'm completely immersed in the transformative process right now. My full-winged emergence is soon to come.

This poem, titled by Lorelei (my oldest daughter), was inspired by the image of myself as a wet-winged creature who is a short time away from breaking through my rice-paper thin chrysalis. As the poem unfolded, I felt Metzli's love palpably, and could hear her sweet voice saying to me: "Mama, I love you so much." She always says it when I need to hear it the most.

The time I had to carve out in order to write and edit this poem, create these images, and share them with you here was hard won. Surrendering to the slowness of my creative process while mothering is my current practice, and that's what this poem is about.

Butterfly photo by Nancy Chow 🦋

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BIRTH: The Psychedelic Trip of a Lifetime

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BIRTH: The Psychedelic Trip of a Lifetime

Originally Published in the September 2022 Edition of Fat Nugs Magazine

Before becoming the editor of Fat Nugs Magazine, I worked as a birthkeeper and postpartum care provider for nearly a decade. I still do this work for my community, because it has become undeniable to me that birth and motherhood have innumerable characteristics in common with plant medicines and the shifts they invoke. From the fact that both mind-altering plants and mind-altering birth are burdened by illogical rules and regulations, to the truth that birthing and tripping in captivity amongst strangers is a seriously bad idea; the two worlds are really one, and it’s time to restructure our lives accordingly.

My perspective comes from the knowing that birth itself is a psychedelic trip meant to catalyze families into a paradigm of love, connection, and oneness with the universe, just like mushrooms do. Allow me to explain this through the lens of story and intuitive knowing.

BIRTH IS THE MEDICINE

I gave birth to my third daughter, freely and without the presence of anyone but my husband, on my bedroom floor. I retrieved her from the depths of my soul, where hers was entangled with mine, a depth I had never before accessed. She led me there. I could feel her tiny legs propelling her deeper and deeper into the portal, asking me to assist with the expulsion she so desperately wanted. She was ready to traverse the realms and breathe the air, as opposed to the waters of her own private ocean. She was born wet, slippery, pink and wide-eyed into her father’s hands. She and I couldn’t take our eyes off of each other as we processed, together, the most holy of experiences available to humankind.

This is not the same way I describe my first two daughters’ births. They were mechanical, medicated, scripted, manipulated, violated, and stolen from me. The epidurals numbed me. The doctors rushed me. I felt no tiny feet pushing against my ribs in an effort to move toward the light. I felt no depth. I felt nothing at all. My mind was preoccupied with texting people updates. Hands went inside of me, measured me, stretched me, emptied bags of my urine, inserted needles and took my blood.

Sounds like a pretty bad trip, yeah?

We are now in the Age of Aquarius. Secrets are being shared, truths are being revealed, and we are moving toward a new way of being human. This new way, which is really the old way, which is really the eternal way, centers nature and all of her gifts. Many of us have realized, with the assistance of plant medicine especially, that we are connected to nature; we are nature; and we are meant to live embodied lives in congruence with our natural surroundings.

"Trust. Let go. Be open." - Bill Richards (Clinical Psychologist/Psychedelic Researcher), and Every Birthkeeper That Ever Was

This has led to a modern-day renaissance akin to that of the 1960s and ‘70s, a time during which psychedelics and natural birth were weaving themselves into the fabric of society in such a way that governments and medical complexes everywhere were feeling really fucking threatened. We’ve all likely heard of Timothy Leary, but the story of Stephen Gaskin, professor of creative writing and semantics turned psychedelic thought leader, and his wife, Ina May Gaskin, self-taught independent midwife, speaks to the deeper nuances of this time beautifully. 

Ina May is well known in the birth world for co-founding The Farm and writing the books Spiritual Midwifery and Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth, both of which contain powerfully psychedelic birth stories. Along with a crew of other self-taught midwives, Ina May witnessed and supported the births of 11 babies in a bus caravan for the Astral Continental Congress speaking tour her husband was leading in the interest of calling in a spiritual and social revolution. 

This photo depicts the first Astral Continental Congress van birth as witnessed by midwife Ina May Gaskin. The photo, titled “Power Pilgrimage,” is a part of the award-winning BIRTH UNDISTURBED narrative series created by British photographer Natalie Lennard.

In the year 2022, we still want to free our minds, our plants, our bodies, and more. So long as we have access to people who know people, the concept of legalization is really nothing more than a small hurdle that many of us simply walk around to get to our destination. We grow our own mushrooms, we synthesize our own LSD, and we birth our own babies.

Yes, we birth our own babies. Doctors don’t “deliver” them and real midwives don’t “help them out.” Sovereign mothers birth their own babies with their own bodies thanks to a divine synthesis of hormones and internal desires made real. When allowed to do so freely, without observation, interjection, or shaming, the process of bringing our babies earthside unfolds as the most epic of all psychedelic trips. This is the way birth was designed to be. 

When birthing, a mother’s hormones are released in such a way that she is able to enter an altered state. Oxytocin, the “love” hormone that is also released during love-making and other potent moments of bonding, flows freely, creating what are known as contractions or surges. The beta-endorphins soon kick in, serving as a “painkiller” while creating feelings of pleasure and euphoria. According to Dr. Sarah J. Buckley, renowned obstetrician turned freebirthing mother and author of the book Gentle Birth, Gentle Mothering, these beta-endorphins can reach such high levels that “the laboring mother can transmute her pain and enter into an altered state of consciousness.”

Stated another way, “The mother reaches a point in her traveling where it is time for her to go alone. The endorphins released by her body during her embarking have begun to change her consciousness and she enters, more deeply, the realm of the altered state. She travels to the edge of her normal reality, parts the Veil and goes beyond. The Veil is my nomenclature for the curtain that separates ordinary reality from the deep altered state.” 

This quote comes from one of my most favorite independent midwives, Whapio Dianne Bartlett, director of The Matrona - a foundation that offers transformational programs in the realms of birth, healing and wisdomkeeping. She has a beautifully psychedelic way of explaining the different aspects of a woman’s birth journey, which she describes as “The Holistic Stages of Birth.” These aspects perfectly parallel psychedelic journeys - especially those that involve mushrooms.

OUR BIRTHRIGHT TO JOURNEY

As a birthkeeper and mother, I know all of the above to be true. A birthing mother always leaves this world and enters another when she hits a certain stage. When birthing in a comfortable and familiar setting, ideally at home or out in nature, the mother is able to sink into that altered state and allow her body to experience the journey of birth in her own unique way. And yes, it is absolutely possible for a mother to journey so profoundly and intuitively that she experiences her birth as blissful, orgasmic, and completely out of this world. It is possible for any mother; she simply has to choose it, and pay close attention to her set and setting. 

This sentiment is echoed by radical birth thought leader and mother of nine, Yolande Norris-Clark, whose newest offering, PORTAL, provides women with a blueprint for a blissful, transcendent birth. “Any kind of birth demands an altered state of consciousness,” she shares. 

“This is not optional. Birth is biologically engineered to create that altered state of consciousness from within, from the mechanism of your body/mind/psyche. If you’re being harassed and agitated and your nervous system is being constantly enervated by stress in any way, that sympathetic nervous system process that is intrinsic to birth is going to shut down, and you will experience birth not only as intense, hard, and painful, but it’s also going to be far more likely to be prolonged, and even to stop. It’s very challenging, in my experience, to be calling ourselves into full presence when our bodies are being violated.”

On the other hand, when a mother is allowed to journey through birth in the way she wishes, where she wishes, and without the presence of “authority figures,” there is nothing standing in the way of her transcendence except her own ego, doubts and fears - all of which she can work with both before and during her birthing time. River Shannie, a mother who birthed her son freely at home in the presence of only her partner and daughter, shared her psychedelic birth story with me, and it beautifully represents all of the above:

“I went on the deepest trips of my life during Nuala and Griffin's births. [I remember when] the DMT of birth was beginning to kick in. I experienced a flashback to a psychedelic experience I had in the past. DMT is one of the chemicals released by a woman's brain when she gives birth. It is a hallucinogenic tryptamine that occurs naturally in many plants and in our brains. The realms I accessed during my children's births taught me about the wildness and the power within me. That same wildness and power is within us all.”

She continued: “I felt the presence of the beings from my past psychedelic experience. I was happy they were with me. I had learned from them last time and I welcomed the familiar feeling of being comforted by their presence… Then, I centered myself. I suddenly flew away from irritability to a blissful state of altered consciousness. I was making my way deep down the path of labor with sensuality, courage, and glee.”

Yolande addresses DMT in PORTAL, even going so far as to explain how to maximize your body’s capacity to produce this chemical. The presence of DMT during birth (and orgasm and death for that matter) is yet another testament to the ultimate truth at the center of life itself: birth is meant to be a pleasurable, transformative, transcendent, psychedelic experience of love; one that is meant to give human beings a spiritually connected beginning to their life on land.

“There is a reason that scientists believe that the mother’s brain, as well as her baby’s, produces DMT, ‘The God [Spirit] Molecule,’ during the birth process,” Yolande shares. “The purpose of birth is to connect us to heaven. Birth is the zenith of orgasm. It’s sheer gorgeousness, and it’s made for our thriving.”

Man or woman, can you relate? Those who have engaged with psychedelics and plant medicine are familiar with the concept of journeying through altered states of consciousness, and many understand that intentional journeys often complete themselves in such a magnificent way that the traveler feels blissfully reborn. A lesson is learned, a wisdom is unearthed, a body is rewired, a mind is set free. They have experienced what is known as a Hero’s Journey. They completed a cycle, one in which they willingly took themselves into the deep below, made a discovery of some kind, and then traveled back up to “reality,” where they share their tale of triumph. 

Mothers have been birthing with this understanding for all of time. Up until men took over the birthing realm, women were often honored post-birth in the same ways warriors were when they returned home from battle. It wasn’t until midwives were burned, banned, and regulated at the hands of the church and their friends, the male practitioners of scientism, that birth was moved into the hospital - a place where everything spiritually profound is ritualistically removed from the process altogether. Women have been routinely drugged and abused ever since. Their memories of how to birth outside of the system have been systematically beaten into oblivion, and the sanctity of birth has been severely compromised for far too long.

Our deeply depressed society is evidence of this, and Stanislav Grof, the psychiatrist who developed holotropic breathwork and noted the undeniable similarities between LSD trips and birth/rebirth, concurs. Birth trauma leads to serious psychopathologies, according to his research from the 1960s and ‘70s. It sure is a good thing we have psychedelics to help everyone process said birth trauma. If only we’d facilitated the psychedelic birth that was their birthright all along; then maybe they could have avoided a fear-based life of disconnect and suicidal ideation. 

In the same way we must free birth from institutionalized captivity so as to prevent inflicting more birth trauma upon mothers and babies, we must be very, very careful with the ways we choose to “legitimize” psychedelics. Thanks to the trending miniseries titled How to Change Your Mind, we know that psychedelics are currently being studied in clinical settings with clipboards and machines that go ping. 

Dr. April Bolding, co-author of one of the more popular books recommended to expecting mothers titled Pregnancy, Birth, and the Newborn, addressed this in a speech she gave at the 2019 Portland Psychedelic Conference (a speech that can be found on YouTube for those interested). Medicalizing psychedelic trips is in nobody’s best interest, and the boundary between research and a complete rebirth takeover must be maintained. Psychedelic journeys of all kinds, including birth, are meant to take place in familiar, comfortable settings, and/or nature.

THE INTEGRATED MOTHER

From this point onward, birth must be treated like a sacred psychedelic journey; the one in which we are the vessel that creates the means through which Source presents itself. Our naturally occurring chemicals are the compounds that activate our unconscious realms, elevating us to new states of being human. Just as you wouldn't numb yourself for a psychedelic trip, women shouldn't numb themselves for birth. The experience is intended to help the mother transcend her current level of creativity, life experience, endurance, and overall self mastery. It is meant to reveal a new version of herself, the one that can mother intuitively and with confidence. 

Psychedelic itself means “soul-revealing.” Birth absolutely and obviously does this, and in more ways than one. The mother, of course, is cracked open and her highest self is revealed. A new version of her Earthen self is then born and revealed as a result. Her baby's soul is completely centered in his or her human body upon being born, and thus it is revealed. 

Upon deeper contemplation, it is almost as though the creation of the baby within the mother is the seed of the psychedelic medicine itself. The baby contains the spark of life just as a plant does. His or her energy field becomes one with the mother’s, continuing in this way for the duration of the entire pregnancy, birth, and the first three to six months postpartum. This is by divine design, and, when encouraged and supported, mothers and babies can essentially experience a year-long psychedelic transformation that expands their minds, opens their hearts, and prepares them for life in its entirety. 

Those who journey with mushrooms and the like experience a post-psychedelic afterglow and integration period, just like a newly reborn mother does in the hours and days after naturally birthing her baby. Even the baby is having a psychedelic adventure post-birth, as it has recently been acknowledged that an adult’s brain on LSD functions in a similar way to that of an infant. Infant brainwave states are wildly special, allowing them to simply live in a dreamstate.

“Mothers have taught me that it is not appropriate to interfere with this important stage of birth (the return, the immediate postpartum),” Whapio states. “This is an incredibly high and holy moment and if we truly understood birth and the ramifications of returning from an altered state…the re-integration…we would protect the privacy of the mother and baby at this time more than any other.”

When understood in the context of psychedelic sciences, birth - which creates a naturally transcendent synthesis of hormones within the human body - can be seen for its potential and benefit as opposed to solely its inherent risks. Psychedelic plants and pharmaceuticals simply mimic what birth has been designed to do all along. This is why the plants and the fungi are calling us back. They are here to remind us of our true nature, to elevate our relationships with ourselves, each other, and our shared cohesive environment. Nothing is separate. Birth is not separate. Birth is an act of creativity, love, embodiment, and ecstasy. It is fear alone that introduces pain and discomfort and disconnect from Source and intuition, and it is a lack of reverence for mothers and birth that breeds the fear.

When choosing how, where, and with whom to birth, a mother should look to the ways in which a person plans for an intentional psychedelic trip. She must avoid anything and everything that is unnatural and invokes fear. She must prepare for transcendent bliss, and settle for nothing less. This is her birthright. This is her baby’s birthright. The generations that came before us and that will come after us deserve all of this, and more. Every birthing mother can be the catalyst for profound healing in her family and the world at large if she simply surrenders to the psychedelic birth experience that is built into her and her baby’s cells. It is theirs for the taking, and it is guaranteed to be the trip of a lifetime.

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The Free Birth of Metzli Jo ☾ Part IV

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The Free Birth of Metzli Jo ☾ Part IV

Read Part III

THE AFTERWARD

Metzli was SO slippery, and not one spot of vernix remained on her skin. After looking her over and assessing her state (which was perfect), I tried to sit down so I could hold her more easily and begin to nurse her. My tailbone, however, did NOT want me to sit down, so I tried to lean back against the bed in an uncomfortable upright position, suddenly remembering that we needed to get Lorelei and Isla in the room to meet their sister! I told Ryan to call to them as I looked into Metzli’s eyes, her beautiful face pressed against my breast as she stared right through me and into my soul. It truly felt like (and still does feel like) I am her and she is me. I also know this to be true. She was an extension of my being, and I had known her for a lifetime.

I cannot quite recall the first thing I said to her, as badly as I want to. I believe it was, “Hi Metzli, you’re here! Welcome to our family,” but I really can’t be sure. I remember Lorelei and Isla running in and sitting to my right, in between me and their dad. They put a Beanie Baby on me and gave me a blanket for Metzli. I will cherish this blanket forever - I’m sentimental like that. We all looked at Metzli in awe. She was so happy, and she immediately latched on to my nipple - perfectly too. It was so nice to already have experienced breastfeeding so that this part was mostly a breeze. I was surprised at how strong and ferocious her nursing was, though. Just minutes old and already so full of life and instinct. My nipples could tell that she was more than ready to be here. She was ready to THRIVE.

I told Ryan to take pictures, so he did, and then my parents arrived. They couldn’t believe how fast Metzli was born (four hours of active labor!), and they were so excited that everyone was healthy and happy (but of course!). As much as they supported me and my plan to free birth, they were still fucking terrified that something awful would happen. I couldn’t have been happier to ease those fears by proudly showing them my beaming smile and my beautiful baby, on my bedroom floor, my body covered in blood, amniotic fluid and meconium. I felt the most natural, wild, and HUMAN that I’ve ever felt in my entire life.

Eventually I was ready to get horizontal in bed, eat a snack and drink some water. Someone (my mom, Ryan?) helped me up from the floor and guided me into bed, placing a sheet over me for warmth. I kept Metzli latched and close the entire time. It felt good to lay back and rest. As happy as I was to have finished the immediate birth process, I missed having her inside of me, safe and warm and contained.

A few moments later I felt a renewed sensation of pressure and discomfort and warmth with my continuing contractions. It was my placenta waiting to be released. Ryan went and grabbed a bowl, then came to catch my placenta as I encouraged its release. He then placed it in a container in the fridge - we were going to have it made into capsules later, and also use a portion for placenta smoothies. He said it was crazy to hold a placenta in his hands, and that it felt heavier than the baby. I do regret not holding it myself, but I was so enthralled with my child, with all of my children, that no part of me cared about sentimental curiosities outside of their magical existence in that moment. Holding Metzli as I continued to feel into my body and monitor my bleeding was first and foremost anyway.

My dad went with Lorelei and Isla to get me a snack and some water. I asked them to go to the lemon tree and pick the birth lemon that had accompanied me through my pregnancy journey. This lemon was giving birth to another lemon, and it grew and grew as I grew and grew. This was the perfect moment to join together and celebrate LIFE. This lemon was squeezed into my water and presented to me with some crackers as I had requested. This was followed by a “Happy Birthday” serenade and homemade Frozen-themed ice-blue cupcakes to celebrate Isla’s birthday, as it had passed midnight and she was now five! I stayed away from the cupcakes so as to help my body adjust a bit easier to not being pregnant, but everyone else really enjoyed them. I kind of regret this now because they seriously looked so good. 

And, oh, how beautiful my newborn child was. Her features were so tiny, yet prominent, her hands so small and yet strong, her hair so dark and soft, her feet as precious as could be. Her skin was pink and flakey, taking on the appearance of dryness. She was definitely ready to be born; she chose the perfect time. Holding her in those first moments felt like my life’s purpose had been handed to me, and it was made of the most delicate crystal. This is how I felt with all of my babies. It felt like holding literal angels in my hands, angels that I created a physical form for. Angels that I was tasked with being a spiritual guide for. With Lorelei and Isla, I did not know that I could live up to that task. But with Metzli, I knew that I could. Her sisters showed me that truth. It was evident in her beautiful baby body that she was made for this world and would be an integral part of its rebirthing.

After some time in bed I felt a strong desire to rinse off in the shower and get warm and dressed. I wanted to be cozy in bed with my family, and the cold, limp umbilical cord kept sticking to my leg and bothering Metzli while she was trying to settle and nurse without distraction. Lorelei remembered that I wanted to ask Metzli if she was ready to have her umbilical cord cut, and make sure she knew what was going to happen. So we spoke to Metzli and felt it was clear that she was ready to have her umbilical cord severed, just as I was. After boiling the metallic rainbow scissors in water for about ten minutes, I clamped and cut Metzli’s cord, and she didn’t seem to mind at all. She was peacefully nursing in her sleep, happy to be on my body. I didn’t mind either; I was ready to be unbothered by its stickiness. 

When I got up to shower, there was a decent amount of blood in the bed (we had prepped for this with layers of extra sheets and shower curtains). Isla remembers it still and my mom was worried, but I knew from my studies that blood always looks like more than it actually is, and to base any concern primarily on the mother's behavior and ability to stand. I remember dripping blood on the carpet, bathroom floor and toilet as I moved my way to the shower. There was a big blood stain on the carpet where I had birthed Metzli - in spite of the chucks pads and towels that had been laid down.  We had to drain the water from the unused bath so that I could get in, and while I waited I prepared for my first post-birth urination. The anticipation of a potential burning sensation was intense.

I sat on the toilet to pee and felt that it was the moment of truth. If there was no burn, then it was pretty much a guarantee that there was no tear. I held my breath and peed, and it didn’t hurt at all. Not one fucking bit. Yes! I was so happy. One less thing on the checklist of things to look out for, plus I felt validated in the choice to trust my body and let it open in the way it desired so as to birth my baby. My trust that I would stretch and open was not misplaced. After this win, I thoroughly enjoyed my shower, and then felt an urgency to get dressed and hold my baby.

Those initial moments of separation felt very to the point, and then very strange. I did not want to be disconnected from my baby at all, though I did want her sisters to have a chance to hold her and meet her and look into the eyes of a newborn baby. They each took a turn with their dad’s help, and I got to see the photos afterward. Everyone was so happy and radiant. The energy in the room after a blissful birth is like NOTHING I have ever experienced before. It is otherworldly.

The pad process took a bit of time. It involved an adult diaper and extra large menstrual pads placed just so. My mom helped me by retrieving the clothes I wanted to wear and making sure I stayed standing in the bathroom. I felt alert and well, and I knew that there was no concern to be had. I once again took hold of my new baby, and Ryan got to work on laundry and stripping/making the bed anew. He cleaned the entire house within an hour or so while my parents helped with Lorelei and Isla. We were very grateful this was the case when the morning came. There is nothing like waking up to your beautiful, brand new baby in a spotless house cleaned by someone other than you!

While all of this was going on, I sat with Metzli in the glider that we had set up in the living room and began nursing her. There was immediate nipple pain. I knew then that I was really in it for it with this baby, and five months later at the time of writing this, I’m still proven right. Her latch was and is stellar, but her suck remains to be very intense. There was no eliminating such a strong, innate desire to commit to life via drawing in the gift of her mother’s milk. Coping with this intensity has only made me stronger.

In those moments sitting with Metzli in the glider, there was a lot of noise surrounding us. The were still awake and very excited, asking a lot of questions and exuding an intense energy. It made me tired. I was ready to be quiet and to sleep, as by now it was somewhere around 2 or 3 a.m. Trying to recall how I got into bed and at what point the girls themselves were taken to bed and who did it is impossible. I think I asked my parents to help, but I don’t remember. My only memory is that Metzli never detached from my breast. She nursed through the night and we both remained in a half sleep of sorts.

When the next morning arrived, the girls came and climbed into bed with us and admired their sleeping baby sister. I snapped a few photos and wished Isla a happy birthday once again. We decided to still have her party that day since the baby had been born, and Ryan would have just enough time to get everything together and make it to the park to celebrate. We gave Isla her present while I nursed Metzli in bed.

My sister asked if she could come to my house with our grandma and parents to meet Metzli and make lunch. There was no pressure, but I thought their company and pre-party help would be really nice to have, so I said yes. I stayed in bed nursing until they arrived. Then I ate what my sister prepared for me - my favorite Thai food - while my grandma held Metzli and told me how proud she was of Ryan and I. It was a special moment, as it should be. Everyone was so amped on the fact that the birth went well, and we were all riding that oxytocin wave with Metzli’s every sleepy exhale. I shared the story of the birth with them and we admired how precious this baby was. She was so tiny. We had weighed her that morning and she was 7lbs 6 oz, just like her oldest sister was at birth. Holding her felt like holding the tiniest, most delicate gift from Spirit, as though I had been entrusted with a delicate baby angel who was sent to help us change the world.

After Isla, Lorelei and their dad left for Isla’s birthday party that was being thrown at our neighborhood park, I wanted my baby back, and I wanted to lay down in bed with her and take a nap. I was TIRED. So I did just that! Nicely, but unapologetically. My sister, mom and grandma cleaned everything up from lunch and quietly left for home while I slept and nursed Metzli. I remember everyone returning home from the party a few hours later right after Metzli woke up. There were so many presents and bags to go through, and it was all a bit hectic. Lorelei and Isla wanted to show and tell me everything, and Isla was so exhausted and a bit grumpy.

That night, Ryan and his three daughters read their first bedtime story together post-birth. Metzli fell asleep in Lorelei’s arms, and Lorelei fell asleep leaning back against some pillows. The book was a collection of Frozen stories that Isla got for her birthday. She was so happy and stoked on remembering her birthday fun that she managed to stay awake. It was a sweet ending to our first full day as a family of five. My body was very ready for rest, and my bed felt like such a safe haven. Sleeping only a few feet away from where Metzli was born felt like sleeping on sacred ground. I loved being in the energy the space was holding for us.

Birth is a family event, not a medical event. One must only open their mind, their heart and their arms to receive this knowing. Together, through allowing birth to unfold undisturbed, on its own terms and in an environment of love, we will create a New Earth for this and all future generations.

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The Free Birth of Metzli Jo ☾ Part III

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The Free Birth of Metzli Jo ☾ Part III

Read Part II

THE BIRTH

With every contraction, I buried my face in the pillow I had asked Ryan for and made the loudest, wildest, most full-bodied guttural sounds that have ever emerged from my throat. I did not recognize myself, but I loved myself. I was happy to meet the Kaitlin that had been waiting so patiently within my bones and muscles. I welcomed her with open arms, and we became one. The sounds continued to pour forth and I moved my body relentlessly in ways I could not picture, but felt intuitively to be necessary. With every 10-second break I removed an item of clothing and took a deep, focused breath of air. I was in it, and I was deeply connected to my baby and my purpose. As the contractions would build, I would dive back down to the ground, my face in the pillow, my chest and arms pressed against the ground, my bottom half sometimes up in the air with knees on the ground, sometimes in more of a downward dog position. Whatever my body wanted to do I allowed it to do. I followed its lead, for I trusted that it was guiding Metzli into the portal. In fact, Metzli was all that I could think about.

With all of my clothing removed and my long wild hair pulled into a bun so that I could focus, I remember moving my body in circles and chanting her name: “Oh Metzli, Metzli, Metzli... Oh Metzli, Metzli, Metzli.” I spoke with such focused sincerity, and I remember Ryan joining in at one point as well. I screamed, “I want her out!” to let it be known that yes, this is what I wanted, and this is what I am here to do.

The more Metzli descended, the more I was ready for her to emerge. The urge to push was like a necessary function. If I didn’t push, the force of the contractions could be felt in my lungs and chest more than my pelvis and portal - a sensation that carried carried the energy of resistance, which I absolutely did not resonate with. Perhaps this is because I have a short torso, perhaps it was because of how Metzli was positioned. Either way the answer to the question presented by my body was to push downward with all of my power. It was as though my body was asking, “Can I actually do this?” Each push was an emphatic, “Yes, you can.” I also felt very supported by a maternal, wise energy that had surrounded my body. I have no doubts that this energy was another kind of an answer, an answer to my bedside prayer for help from my grandmothers and aunties.

When my eyes closed and I vocalized with each and every wave of pressure that pushed Metzli downward, I visualized a lava-like presence within me, waiting to erupt. Rather than feeling afraid of it or intimidated by it, I became one with it. I had the realization that what I was feeling was OF me. It was not outside of me doing anything to me, it was something being facilitated by my own body. No part of that scared me or made me want to leave this experience. I wanted to accept it as truth, and I wanted to assimilate this power into my being. In so doing, I knew I would birth my baby. I felt focused and determined, albeit no longer part of this three-dimensional world. I was evolving past the limits and boundaries I had lived within prior. I was doing the bravest thing imaginable. I was paving the way for Life. 

Because I became so loud at this point (Ryan even somehow allowed himself to shush me so that I didn’t wake our older daughters, but quickly realized he shouldn’t shush a birthing woman), Lorelei, my then-seven-year-old firstborn, woke up. Throughout my pregnancy I envisioned what it might be like to have my daughters by my side as I worked to bring their sister forth. The agreement was that no matter what time it was we would make sure they were there to see her when she was born. Because everything moved so quickly, there wasn’t really space to think about whether or not I wanted to wake them so they could see birth in all its glory, or if I wanted to just call them in once Metzli had officially arrived. This didn’t bother me because I trusted the unfolding, and I knew that their witnessing would be facilitated in whichever way was best for them, for me and for birth.

Seeing Lorelei’s face straight ahead of me in the doorway moments before I birthed her sister was so perfect. To see my oldest daughter and experience together something we had been through once before, though numbed and muted, was powerful. I am glad that this was the moment she woke up. Before her arrival in the doorway, I noticed that there was something deeply sexual about birth when it was taking place in the presence of my husband and me only. His witnessing of me in my truest and most vulnerable, yet powerful, form did something that I can’t quite explain. It felt like we suddenly were able to see each other so clearly. I knew I was safe in his presence, that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me or our children, and that he was also going to give me the space I needed to do what I needed to do. If our children were there in the room, his attention would have been pulled. I’m glad that they were peacefully sleeping as those few hours passed and Metzli descended to the point of crowning.

Lorelei said that when she heard my screaming she thought I was fighting with Ryan, (which says a lot about how the pregnancy went! - no shame, surprise pregnancies can take a toll on any sane person), so she came to see what was going on, saw me in labor, and then went to climb in bed with Isla and wait for Metzli to be here. I remember her looking at me and asking, “Mom, are you in labor?” and I told her "yes" as a contraction began and I started howling once again. She said she was going to get her sister and I told her to wait, but she didn’t hear me. I didn’t want to have to explain anything to them or answer any questions. I could feel Metzli and I on the very edge of birth, and I needed to be present in my body, not outside of it. Lorelei told me later that in that moment she decided she would rather wait in the other room with her sister, not be in the room with me in that state. I think she picked up on my needs and followed suit. The vision of them lying together snuggled close as their dad held space for me to labor in the other room sends shivers through my body. It is the epitome of being a family to me, and the epitome of being a child - pure wonder, inner knowing and a deep connection to life.

After Lorelei had left the doorway and I completed the contraction that had started, I told Ryan, who had been grabbing towels and underpads at my one-worded requests, to text my parents: “Girls are up. Baby is coming.” They had agreed to come over and watch the older two daughters during the active labor part of birth. I dove into the ground once again and Ryan ran behind me. He said he could see Metzli’s head starting to crown, and I sure as fuck could feel the burn of this, so I moved into a bed-leaning lunge and felt between my legs. It was her warm, wet, soft, squishy little head that I felt with my own hands. I remember what this did to my breathing. It was as though I was choking on the holiness of that connection - I held my breath so as not to change a thing. Feeling the top of my baby’s head while the rest of her body was still safe within my own was pure fucking magic, and I knew that I could birth her in minutes. 

My vagina was so stretched and the burn of it was so intense that I was convinced I was tearing. I tried to feel the top of my yoni to see if it was in fact tearing. I couldn’t tell and there was no stopping what was happening and another contraction was coming on regardless, so I moved out of the lunge back to my hands and knees, and pushed with the strength of a hundred mothers to help Metzli’s head pass through. I didn’t push hard because she needed me to. I pushed her hard because that is how intense the moment felt; it was what was being called for. Ryan told me to keep pushing even though my contraction was over. He later said this is because Metzli’s face looked really squished and he was worried something was wrong. I tried to push as soon as he spoke these words but I was not contracting, so nothing happened. I then realized what he was probably seeing based on the many births I had seen, and was instantly reassured. Babies always look like they’re being choked by the birth canal when only their head has emerged. My intuition sensed perfection, and I allowed myself to pause and hold space with Metzli, for in just a matter of moments she would be in my arms. These were our last moments physically connected as one, and so I prepared my heart.

“You need to catch her,” I told Ryan. He readied his hands, and I stabilized my body on the ground.

The next contraction came and I pushed again. I felt her shoulders stretch me wide and then the intensity of it all released, some time around 11:47 p.m. Life force had moved through me to carry my daughter into her father’s hands. Ryan said there was a flood of amniotic fluid and blood as she flew out. We think that my waters released after she had engaged in the birth canal and therefore all of the fluid was held in like a dam until her body was completely released as well. Metzli contained all of that vibrant energy that moved her down and out of my body. I turned around, very conscious of the cord between my legs, and saw her wriggly, wet, bright pink body fully stretched out, and her wide open eyes staring up at the ceiling. I was in such awe of all that was happening that I couldn’t quite navigate the motions needed to get me up and over the cord so I could hold her to my chest. Within a few seconds, however, I did figure it out. Taking a lunge position again, I held her first away from me to tune into anything I might need to do to help her breathe. She looked pretty surprised and I could tell she was trying to breathe through her nose with slight difficulty (like, truly negligibly “slight” but noticeable to one looking closely). I wasn’t worried, but I sucked the fluid out of her nostrils just in case she needed me to. It tasted like the ocean. 

Read Part IV

Sneak peek of future Metzli, playing in the ocean.

The song Metzli was born to - “Akaal” by Ajeet and Trevor Hall.

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