Beloved Birth

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A walk to get things moving. No signs of labor at this point in the day, all sunshine and smiles.
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Around 11:30 pm (maybe?). Labor began at 9:30, and all our people made it here just in time.

img_1285 img_1288 img_1291 img_1293 img_1294 img_1296 img_1300 img_1303 img_1304 img_1308 img_1316 img_1317 img_1328 img_1333 img_1334 img_1337 img_1341 img_1344 img_1347It’s been three weeks since our baby decided to make his way into the world, or rather since his mama pulled out all the (natural) tricks to force him out.  His birth, as intuited,was lightning fast and firey. A three and a half hour labor. It was intense and powerful. Yet beautiful and calm. Our team of midwives, grandmothers, husband, and friend, made the atmosphere lively in just the right amount. Big brother slept peacefully upstairs (with the help of grandma) through the whole thing. Which to this mama is amazing and kind of unbelievable due to the lioness roaring that took place. Truly I think I roared this baby out.

Born into the water and caught by his mama, David Aiden Weisman entered this earth on the night of the full Cold Moon. His name means Beloved Fire. He was 9.7 lbs of love (he’s more now). The experience of this birth, being home, being supported and loved all the way through it, was incredible, empowering, and like all births, unforgettable.

We are in extreme gratitude to our midwife, Erika Beecher of Seven Hills Miwifery. Her care was and is astounding. Thank you for holding space for all that this birth meant to us, and for ushering in our baby with grace and love. Also a huge thank you to Cailin Duram, friend and photographer, who is responsible for all of these beautiful photos (except the selfie at the top). We are so grateful to be able to look back at this experience and remember it with joy.

Birth is always beautiful. We are grateful that this birth turned out exactly as we’d hoped for, that mom and babe are healthy, and that birthing at home is possible and safe in our neck of the woods as it should be everywhere.

Waiting…

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Well here we are in the middle of November. All of my good intention to be on this blog more have been well, just that, intentions. Something about this year, and this process of growth and change that I have been undergoing, this pregnancy, have all just led me to be very internal. And that’s ok, sometimes that’s just what we need.

Life has been settling a bit these past few months. I wound up going back to work very part-time, until a few weeks ago. We have been busy with our co-op group, and making the slow adjustment to realizing we will no longer be a family of three. Oh, and we have been fully in the three-year old zone, with all that entails.

Now, it feels like we are as ready as we are going to be (aside from a few last-minute items we need for our home birth). We are in the waiting zone. I will be 37 weeks pregnant in a few days, and this baby will be here… SOON.

The emotional trajectory of this pregnancy has been so charged, and so nuanced, with so many learnings and so much inner work being done. Our family has grown incredibly in the past year, and not just in numbers. Our relationships have deepened, in a way I could have never predicted. The path through infertility brought us to some dark places, but the light within each of us has held steady, and is soon to shine at its full brightness again.

This time of year is so magical. I’m not religious per say, but I grew up in Catholic school, and I consider myself to be a spiritual being. The dichotomy of darkness and light is so easy to feel right now, in so many ways. The earth plays out for us a deepening towards darkness, only to come out on the other side. And unfortunately we are seeing this in our society and culture as well right now. I can’t and won’t say much about it, except for that in the past year my deepest learning has been to trust. Trust in the light, and move towards it.

Now I am preparing myself to move towards the light of my baby, of birth. I am preparing myself for that all encompassing inward journey. That fiery transformative right of passage.

We can not know what is in store for us. So in all things, but mostly in ourselves and the transformative, ever-changing nature of the universe, we trust.

Since I do not know what my birth and postpartum has in store for me, I do not want to make predictions about when I will be back to this space. But I DO want to wish you and yours a beautiful, and light filled, holiday season. And I DO want to say, that I’ll see you when I see you, and until then you’re in my heart.