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Welcome to the Free Birth Podcast, a supportive space for people who are learning, exploring, and celebrating their autonomous choices in childbirth. Together, we'll unpack truths, share personal stories, and claim our ability to birth freely and intuitively. Here's your host, Emily Saldea.
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Quick note at the top of the show here, Freebird Society has a big announcement coming up in a few weeks, and the best way to keep in touch with us is through our newsletter. Have you joined yet? There's gonna be some awesome things you definitely wanna know about. So go to my website, freebird society dot com, or my Instagram at freebird society to subscribe. Okay. We are back with part two of my birth story. I just wanna give a quick shout out to everybody, who has contacted me with such an outpouring of love. It was really amazing to put it out there. I felt super vulnerable and just have felt so held and seen and supported. It's really quite beautiful. So thank you so much. I still can't believe as many people listen to this podcast. It's just so amazing what a global community we're creating through this important storytelling of all these women around the world. Okay. So I know I left you guys with a huge cliffhanger last week, and let's just dive back in. So let's recap real quick. I had created a mess of drama based on my own conditioning and blind spots around long births. The reality is when I finally decided to go to the hospital, I actually was in transition. So I wanna be super clear. While I said in the last episode that I knew I needed to be assessed, of course, that's not really true. Right? I wanted to be because I was being pushed way, way, way, way, way out of my rational mind that I had a comfortable reference for. I didn't need to go. I could have stayed home. I would have had my baby in a few hours. Little did I know. So I left off with everyone packing, my getting dressed, feeling super overwhelmed, full of dread, and a real almost out of body disbelief that I was making this call. So we leave the house. I remember walking onto the lanai and looking up at the full moon and realizing that the lunar eclipse was happening at that exact moment that I left my house. The moon was almost completely covered. It was super eerie. There were clouds, warm wind, and a black moon. We got into the car and had pretty much the most depressing drive ever in all of history. I'm in the back of the Jeep with Johnny. He's trying so hard to stay open hearted, but I can feel his pain. And I'm just honestly sitting in my failure looking out the window thinking, I cannot believe I fucked this up. I can't believe I couldn't free birth. How is this happening? Who am I right now? If I'm swollen, I'm going to have to get an epidural to not push. Oh my God. I'm gonna drug my baby. I've completely failed. I ruined this, her whole start. Johnny won't get to be involved. She may be cut from me. This is going to affect everything. I could see how horrible it may all unfold. It really it really did feel like a nightmare. So by the time we got to the ER, it's about four thirty AM, and I am in full warrior mode. I'm still as high as a kite, but I also feel strangely grounded. It really felt like I was heading into war. I feel alert, and I'm trying hard to be in my cerebral brain. I joked with Johnny later that it felt like trying to talk to the cops on drugs, like, just tripping your face off, trying to be super grounded and act like you've got all your shit together, Just funny now, but it was not funny then. You know, Johnny had asked me multiple times, like, what do I need to know? You know, what's what's the list of things to how how do I protect you? And like I said last week, you know, all I could do was be like, blah. Like, my my mouth was just mush. But I knew inside of my head, I had the list going and and I just knew that I would be able to handle it. You gotta remember, I have never been to the hospital before. I have no prenatal records, no doctor, no proof of anything. So we have no idea how this is going to go down. And I haven't heard great stories about this hospital. So in the car on our drive, we had come up with a bit of a alternative story. One may call it a lie. We were gonna tell the staff that we had just arrived on Maui and that I was thirty eight weeks pregnant. I was actually forty weeks and three days. We were gonna tell them that we had interviews lined up all this week for midwives because, of course, we wouldn't birth alone. Right? And that we hadn't anticipated that I would go into labor so soon. So we were also gonna say that the labor just happened quick and came out of nowhere. Yeah. Right. And that I had started pushing at home, and I was getting nervous that perhaps I was pushing on a swollen cervix. And so we were coming in to be assessed. So kind of true. We have to go through the ER because it's the middle of the night, and immediately, an employee, a huge man, is trying to put me in a wheelchair. I politely decline. He asks me many, many more times and truly acted as if no one laboring had ever walked before to their room. Ah, yes. The first of many rituals that attempt to disempower a laboring woman. I continue declining and waddle behind him, pushing in the hallways and my head reeling. He escorts us to the front desk. We tell the front desk our story, that we just moved here. I'm thirty eight weeks. We were gonna interview midwives, anticipated a home birth with midwives, didn't expect to go into labor, and here we are. We've been laboring at home, but it went quick. I've been pushing, and now I think I have a swollen cervix and wanna be assessed. They hardly listen. So they give us a room right away because I'm obviously pushing, and the nurse wants me to put on the gown and go pee in a cup. I decline both. Honestly, I was pushing so hard. I couldn't have peed in a cup even if I wanted to, which, of course, I didn't because I'm not about to give them any information that I don't want them to have. Of course, I'm not putting on a gown. That's super gross. And, you know, ritual number two. The many ways birthing in captivity seeks to strip a woman of her sense of self. There's really no reason to put a gown on. I suppose unless you're planning an epidural and want to put the gown on. Right? Okay. So she wants to put me and the baby on external monitoring to which I am agreeable. I see no real way out of it. I didn't want it. It's ultrasound. You know, I had very intentionally not exposed my child to ultrasound in the pregnancy. I take major, major issue with, the lack of evidence around the safety of ultrasound. Insert plug for Yolanda and I's episode on ultrasound if you haven't heard it. But, you know, I I'm internally strategizing how to game this out. I'm playing the good girl for now because I want them to like me. I don't know how hard I'm gonna have to push back later. And it felt like declining the monitors was just way too out of scope for for what we had come in for. So Johnny and I, of course, are aware of our rights, and neither of us are afraid to advocate for me and the baby, but I also don't wanna polarize anyone too soon. So unsurprisingly, the nurse doesn't like how the baby's heartbeat sounds, eye roll. She was fine. You know, first of all, I really could hardly keep the monitors on because of the pushing and so that always makes a strip look funky. But secondly, what baby does sound good when they're in the birth canal ready to be born, you know? So the nurse gets oxygen mask out and just puts it on my head without asking me, and again, I'm agreeable. I don't like it, but okay fine. I'll play. She has me laid down and gives me the exam that I came in for. She says, I'm nine and a half with an anterior lip, and the baby is right there. Fuck. Yes. Best news ever. I ask her about swelling, and she says she doesn't feel any. I asked her if she can push the lip out of the way, and she says she's not allowed to on primary births, which if you just pause there for a minute, that makes no sense whatsoever. But okay. Whatever. I wanna talk for a second about anterior lips. An interior lip literally is just the last little piece of cervix that has yet to melt away. It really does just mean not fully dilated. Like my friend Yolanda says, all these dumb terms are just rationalizations for not waiting and shutting up and keeping hands out of a woman's vagina. Everyone who's ever dilated at some point has a last little piece of cervix that melted away or in many cases gets pushed out of the way. You know, things trend in the birth world like any industry and interior lips have been trending for a minute now. But again, I wanna repeat all an anterior lip literally is is just part of the cervix. They aren't stubborn. They aren't special. It's just cervix. Pushing sensations often start around this time, sometimes sooner, like for me, sometimes after, depending on how low the baby is. As the baby descends, the head of the baby pushes the cervix or anterior lip out of the way. Sometimes it takes a while, especially if perhaps the mom has been in the same position for a while or if the head isn't perfectly central, but it's all totally normal part of birth. So I chose a free birth so that intervention wouldn't happen to me. And then, yes, I chose a few interventions. I chose to leave my home. I chose to get an exam, and I chose to get the last part of my cervix manually pushed away. I could say this all happened totally on my terms because I have a strong sense of authority and people don't generally mess with me. But I also think a lot of it is just luck of the draw. I got a chill nurse, a decent doc on a slow night with a good team. And while I will take some credit, part of it is also just my white skinned privilege and luck of the draw that night. We all know that this could have gone a lot of different ways. Right? And then lastly, regarding my anterior lip, I e, the last part of my cervix, I one hundred percent did not need it pushed out of the way. I understand that it would have eventually gone out of the way. But in that time and place at fifty hours and in the hospital, I was like, let's do this. Please, somebody get it out of the way. So the nurse says that the doctor will be there in ten minutes. Okay. Fine. We wait. In retrospect, I'm not sure why we waited, but I guess I just had it in my head that I wanted the doctor to manually remove the final part of my cervix out of the way, and therefore, I had to wait. The nurse comes in multiple times wanting the IV fluids to get started for the epidural that she assumed I inevitably would have, and I decline. She's genuinely confused. She brings it up multiple times, lets me know that the anesthesiologist is available now, but might not be available later, and now would be the time to get the epidural started. I decline again. She even comes back in the room again with the IV bag of fluids in her hands and has me decline once more. She's genuinely confused, just like the wheelchair guy. Apparently, nobody has ever not gotten IV fluids or an epidural at this hospital. That brings up another point of sometimes dissenting in a system that works fundamentally on submission is so ludicrously confusing to the staff. It would be funny if it wasn't so completely tragic. Okay. So the doctor comes in. She asks me about where I got my prenatal care to which I say I didn't seek any from any medical providers Again confusing looks and she says well, but then how can you be sure of your gestation? And I say well, I know exactly when I conceived, and it's not that hard to figure out. It's simple math, isn't it? She looks at me disapprovingly because, of course, I couldn't know anything about my pregnancy. I'm just a pregnant woman. But it doesn't faze me. So she lets me know she's ready to examine me. I lay on my back again and I tell her to please push the lip out of the way She enters my body and quickly says okay, cervix is gone. You're complete. The baby is right here. I'm ready to deliver your baby. Before I know it, she continues with, I want you to grab your knees and pull them back towards your head. Dad, take a knee and help her. And the nurse comes on the other side to take my other knee. It was like it felt like I was hypnotized for a second. I just went to do it, not really registering what was happening. She starts explaining directed pushing to me, and then I'm like, wait. Wait. Wait. What? And I snap back into reality. I ask something like, wait. What's happening? And she says, a little condescendingly, we're going to do directed pushing now, and I'm going to deliver your baby. So now I'm, like, back on top and realizing what's happening. It just took a second. And I say, hold on. I need to stand up. She says, no. You don't understand. Your baby's ready to be born. And I say, you don't understand. I want to stand up. Also, I'm thinking, fuck you for talking to me on my back, and fuck you for every woman you've ever stood over and told them what you're going to do while they lay spread eagle on their back with your fingers inside them. Ugh. So Johnny, of course, quickly goes to help me stand up, and the staff is all standing around super confused as if no one has ever dissented in their entire careers. My sister gets the hint and suggests to the room that we all take a moment to talk, and the doctor and the nurse, super baffled, leave the room. I'm back on top. Whatever funk I had been in is totally gone. I'm clear and fully in my power again. I look over at Johnny with a shit eating grin on my face, and I go, so you wanna get out of here? He doesn't skip a beat. He looks at Alexandria and Allison and says, hell, yeah. I do. Let's roll. He tells the girls to get our stuff together. The doctor and the nurse walk back in as I'm putting on my sandals. I turn to the doctor and say, doctor so and so, thank you so much for your help. Truly, I'm going to decline being admitted, and I'm going to go home. But thank you. You've really helped me in my time of need. The doctor, yet again, super confused, and now I'm sure frustrated says, I don't think you understand. Your baby is ready to be born. Also, we don't like the way your baby looks on the monitors. You need to stay. I'm super calm. I get it. This is nuts to her. But I'm also overjoyed that I'm complete and that everything's all good. I got the validation I needed, and I'm a hundred percent back to being confident and ready to do this. I respond. I totally get it. I'm so grateful for your help, but we're going to leave. And she says, but your baby could be born in the parking lot. I remember thinking, yeah, that would be preferable to hear with your scissors and machines. They've already set up, you know, that delivery tray that just has all the many ways that they can fuck with your birth. So then the doctor says, but where will you go? And I say home. And she says, well, who will deliver you? And I say, well, me. And she says, do you have any experience? And I say, not exactly. And she says, but don't you understand how dangerous that is? And I say, well, that's debatable, but I don't have time for this. I imagine you want me to sign your AMA, so please go write it now. I have to go have my baby. So the second she leaves the room, I have my first real push with no cervix and, oh, snap. That feels different to be blunt. It went from being in my ass to in my asshole. Y'all know what I'm talking about. So I look wide eyed at Johnny and he helps me get my underwear on. I forego the pants and Alison leaves to go find the car and get it ready. I walk out to the nurse's station and I'm pacing in front of the nurse's station, like a wild animal, waiting for the doctor to finish writing the AMA I'm growling and pacing like a wild woman yelling at them to hurry up about ten nurses are jaw dropped to the floor. Just staring at me. The doctor comes over and tries to verbally read to me all that she has written out, which consists of the many varying ways I could kill my child by leaving the hospital. I say, yep, yep, yep. Got it. Got it. Yep. Totally. Okay. Cool. All right. We gotta go In retrospect, I'm not sure why I was willing to wait and sign their AMA. I didn't need to, but I guess it was like kinda throwing them a bone because I knew I was doing something super nuts to them. But I do have to hand it to the doctor. She looks at me with very real concern in her eyes and says, this is completely against my medical recommendation, but I can't stop you. So if you need help, come back. We'll help you. My heart swelled with gratitude in that moment because I didn't expect that kind of rational kindness because I can imagine how hard that was for her to say, because in spite of how insane we must have looked to her, she was decent and didn't bully me because that could have gone a bunch of different ways and it went the best way because she could have called CPS or exaggerated the situation or just been shitty, but she wasn't. It was a real woman to woman moment. I'll always remember it. So I signed the AMA. Johnny grabs my hand and we fly out of l and d. I'm walking as fast as I can, stopping to push when needed, being loud and wild. It was pretty funny, actually. It was just about to be the staff changeover. So new nurses were coming down the halls as we're searching for our way out. You know how confusing hospitals are. We hadn't paid attention when the guy had let us into l and d, So we had no idea how to get out of there. So we were like kind of scrambling around. I'm sure we looked absolutely insane. And it was funny because with the nurse changeover, people were coming into the hospital, seeing me push clearly pushing my baby and people were going, go that way, go that way. L and D is that way, which of course we were intentionally walking away from. It was pretty funny. So we're laughing and hightailing it out of there. It seriously felt like we were escaping prison. We finally find the ER exit doors and step into the warm wind and the starry night outside. It's now about maybe five forty am. We were in and out of there within an hour. Johnny looks at me and says with a huge smile, well, it's certainly never a dull day with you, my love. We laugh and get into the car. Allison has put towels down in the back of the jeep. The vibe is totally different now. The windows are down as Allison races us through Kahului back up the mountain. We're crying and laughing. I'm pushing in the back with sheer ecstasy. The eclipse is done, and now the bright full moon is back, shining down on us with no clouds around. My only complaint, and I'll never forget it, were the eleven speed bumps as we enter into our neighborhood in Pukalani. It was hilarious and awful all at the same time. We're home in about twenty minutes, and I waddle up the stairs to my nest. It's on now. I'm home. Everything is right with the world. I get to my bedroom and drop to the floor. The girls are relighting the candles and putting new fresh trucks down on the floor. I'm on my knees. We all reground. I had made it clear to my team prior to the birth that I wanted a three foot halo around me when the baby came, meaning no one, not even Johnny, to be in my immediate space. I believe it to be the safest for third stage, and I wanted to experience the most primal of instincts unfold as my baby was born. I didn't want anyone touching me. I didn't want any bright lights. I didn't want anyone going, oh my God, it's a baby. Right after the birth, I wanted silence. Everyone honored my space and kept a good distance. Everyone felt very grounded and present and relaxed. For the next forty minutes or so, my body pushes. I feel safe, calm, totally present, unafraid. In between the pushing, I talked to Suniye. Sometimes I leaned on Johnny who was nearby. Sometimes I'm on all fours. It was epic. Time was slow, but I was the definition of present. I knew I was safe and that my baby was coming and everything was good. I could feel her coming, lower and lower. It was happening. It was really happening. This was it. I could feel some of her head come out, not all of it, but some, and wanted to see. Allison passed me a mirror and I look. I see the first part of her head staying out of my body. I'll never forget that, how real it made it. It was incredible. I'm yelling and blowing horse lips and trying not to give in to that intense pushing sensation. I know I wanna protect my perineum as best as I can. I'm chanting. I trust you. You're so smart. Take care of me. I'll take care of you. I trust you. I trust you. She births her head from my body. Wow. Nothing can prepare you for that, nor could I ever explain the sensation, but the closest thing I could say is it felt like passing a brick. I don't know why I thought the head would have more give, but yeah, there was none of that. No give whatever that even means. It was like fire raging through my body. Good fire, safe fire, necessary fire, nothing you can do about it kind of fire, but her head was now out. And with it comes a puddle of meconium. I feel a spike of awareness. Meconium, you know, is to be expected with this long of a labor. I assure myself pushes come, but her body doesn't. It feels like time is standing still. I feel her head and it kind of just felt like blood and mush, but then I find her ear. I relax. It's really a baby. I ask Johnny if he will catch her. I no longer want my three foot halo like I thought I would. I want Johnny close. The meconium and the delay of the birth in the body has made me slightly nervous. And I want Johnny behind me with an extra set of eyes. He assures me there really is a face. The energy is calm and patient. We wait. At one point, I even tried with a push to see if I could pull her out a bit, but no way. And of course, I'm not gonna force anything. Ten minutes later, she finally rotates her shoulders. What a marvelous feeling. Johnny can see her head twisting outside of me and I can feel the restitution happening on the inside. Thankfully, I knew what that was and what was happening and I'm so happy and in complete awe. We're close now. I'm in a runner's lunge. Johnny tells me her mouth is opening and she's blowing little bubbles. Next wave and her body slips out like a little fish. She flops out with a huge splash. Johnny barely catches her and passes her up to me. I remember looking down at her as I brought her up asking, is it you, Suni? It is. I knew it was you, Suni. She's completely stunned. Doesn't make a noise. Her head is blue, her body white, floppy body. But I'm completely unworried. I've seen this before and it doesn't surprise me. I'm calm and just talk to her I rub her back kiss her face Suck some stuff out of her face Talk to her sweetly A couple minutes in she starts to make some gurgly noises that sound very wet So I turn her upside down and drain her a bit She's coming around. You can feel it in the room. More noises than some coughs and sneezes. She's clearing out her fluid. She's here. It's my SUNY A. I knew it would be her. And she's finally here. Johnny comes and sits next to me. Alexandria starts giving me water. I ask how my bleeding looks a few times because I feel amazing and a part of me is wanting confirmation that this really is happening so perfectly. Alex assures me the bleeding looks great. I finally sit back off my poor soul and knees and we all gaze at my little baby. Soon we get into the bed and she latches right away. Johnny, Soonie and I are absolutely covered in blood. It was the bloodiest birth I think I've ever seen. Not in a scary way. Just it was what it was. Johnny comes next to me and we all hang out. The placenta comes about two and a half hours later. I squat over a bowl and tug it a few times, but it just wasn't ready. So, okay. No rush. I felt good. I actually never had any afterbirth contractions. Not that I was cognitively aware of. I just felt a little uncomfortable and tried it and it came out at some point around two and a half hours. The cord was short. A gush of urine follows the placenta. It was like Niagara falls. I'm so happy that the placenta is out because I'm dying to shower and get the blood that's now drying on me off of me. Allison takes the baby and the placenta and Johnny and I go to the shower together. I feel amazing, grounded, and happy. We get clean and crawl back into bed. The girls leave around noon, and we have a wonderful, relaxed day with Suniye. At around twelve hours postpartum, we decide to cut the cord. We had intended to keep it attached in lotus birth if that had felt right, but she clearly was hating the cold cord on her leg, and it just felt unnecessary. She felt done with her placenta. Kind of a funny note here. I realized when it was too late that I had never taken the time to explain to Johnny what exactly Lotus birth was in terms of the herbs and how we would treat the placenta. As I had said in the last episode, Alexandria had diligently sat and handpicked off rosemary from the stem for hours because I had wanted to treat the placenta with some dried, rosemary every day. But Johnny just saw a big bowl of rosemary and thought that he was supposed to just pour the whole thing onto the placenta. So while I was still in the room, he had taken the baby and placenta with the help of my sister into the kitchen and had rents the placenta and put it in a bowl with all of the Rosemary. It was really funny. So he came back with the baby and the entire room reeks of Rosemary and I see what had happened. So I just laughed and took it as a sign that we probably wouldn't keep this situation around for too long. So around hour twelve, we did a cord burning ceremony. It was really beautiful. It only took a couple minutes to burn through and it was just us three. Suniye was calm. Johnny and I both held the beeswax candles to burn the cord together. We played mantras and gave our thanks to the birthing goddesses that kept Suni and I safe. And we cried and loved each other now as a family of three. So that's my story. It feels good to share. I think it's worth mentioning for any pregnant women listening that the two things I wish I had had and didn't think to have was a knee pad and soft wash cloths. A knee pad, meaning like the thing you would kneel on to bathe the baby or to garden, like almost like a kick board. I spent many, many, many hours on my knees and they were so swollen and they really hurt, but there was nothing I could do about it. We had piled up some yoga mats for the actual birth, which I then bled all over and ruined. So next birth knee mat. And then with the soft washcloths, I didn't even think about it, but we were just using these low grade Costco packs. And I had had those in play for over twenty four hours because I was so hot. But without realizing it, I kind of had rubbed my face raw with those washcloths. And by the day after the birth, my face had peeled like a sunburn. So yeah, soft wash cloths would have been a major plus. I also wanted to mention that I did two ritualistic things in the weeks following my birth that I felt really helped complete the birth process for me. One was our own version of the Mexican midwifery ritual called closing of the bones. Traditionally, that involves quite a bit of things like a steam tent and oil massage, etcetera. But my sister and I just took every scarf and rebozo we could find in the house, filled a basket of sage, Palo Santo, rose spray, oils, special stones, flowers. And we went outside midday and threw the basket in the grass with a blanket next to us. We did a short meditation and then laid seven of the scarves out on the blanket and I laid on the scarves, which would represent the closing of the seven chakras. My sister played a gorgeous version of the sunyye mantra, and I laid in the sun with my eyes closed. Allison prayed and talked to every chakra as she closed them, speaking to each part of my body that had opened for my child's passage into the world. Tears poured out of me as I joined in thanking my incredible body and for reliving my birth through giving attention to each energy vortex of my body. It was simple, sweet, and super special. The other big thing that I did was about a day or so before the full moon following her birth, she was born on the full moon, so just under a month later, my mom was visiting us, and I decided I wanted to hike into a sacred valley on the island and give the placenta back to the earth. So on a misty, foggy day, Johnny was wearing our baby. My mom was carrying frozen placenta and, three or four of us rather walked deep into the mountain side until I found a place off the path that felt right. I got down on my knees and dug into the fertile soil, past the earthworms and made a huge hole. I held the placenta for the first time since it had been in my body, said a silent prayer of gratitude and placed it in the earth. It was really special. As we walked away, I felt a huge wave of full completion. I didn't choose to consume my placenta. A lot of people have asked me about that. It was covered in meconium, first of all, and, you know, I would have I would have used it if I had needed, if I didn't like my bleeding or was feeling, you know, shaky or lightheaded. But I really felt good and just didn't, didn't feel called to do it. And then once I saw it covered in meconium, I was like, okay, that can just go in the freezer. So I had an incredible postpartum. I'm now thirteen weeks postpartum. We stayed on the island for the first ten weeks following the birth. The first night following the birth, we three all slept for nine hours straight. No nursing. We just slept. It was wonderful. The second night they fell asleep and I laid there totally tripping. I was having these huge feelings of creative and sexual energy pulsing through my body. I was seeing gorgeous visuals in the dark, having epiphany after epiphany, writing stuff down and seeing all this beautiful art in my head. It was really powerful and beautiful. And I didn't know that that could happen. By the third day, otherwise known as the weepy day, since that's the day your milk most typically comes in after a physiological birth, I got a text in the morning from my friend Rachel asking if I was sobbing yet. Almost arrogantly. I said, Nope, I feel great. No tears. And literally forty minutes later, I was a puddle. It was so cool. Waves of emotion were coursing through my body and my breasts were swelling and milk began to drip from me. It was the most raw and open I've ever been. I just laid in bed with my baby and wept. And then the next hour, I would be a totally normal human again. And then the next hour, I would be crying, crying, crying. It felt so good. I knew it was my hormones, and I knew all was well. I couldn't stop thinking about how if I had started my labor in the hospital, I would have definitely had a c section because no one lets you labor that long. Or how if I had been with a licensed midwife, she would have transferred me because my waters had been open for well over twenty four hours with no significant progress. I cried knowing that if I had stayed at the hospital for the birth of my baby when they saw the meconium and the delay of time after her head was born. They would have cut my vagina and pulled her out. They would have cut our cord, our connection, to not only each other, but to all of her vital blood waiting to pass to her. They would have taken her away and done deep suctioning, and God knows what else. We came frightfully close to all of that. I couldn't stop thinking about how many women experienced their third day postpartum also having to process trauma and violation that happened against their bodies and their babies. I wept for every mother who had ever been disrespected. I cried for every baby who had been forced from their mother, who experienced a violent interruption and was left with gaps in the hormonal bond that is meant to occur. I had so many flashbacks to the births I had witnessed in captivity and just cried and cried and cried in a whole new way for the violence that is perpetrated every day on our women and our sweet children. I cried because just a normal, happy, healthy, well supported postpartum experience is intense enough to integrate and how painful it is to know how deeply we have betrayed our race at the hands of this patriarchy. In the days following, I felt incredibly sore, raw, and my vagina hurt like crazy. I did get a mirror and look at my vagina from the outside as I wanted to know what was going on and to keep an eye on the situation. Let me say this. Don't look if you aren't ready to handle it. Not joking. It looked crazy. It was so swollen and open. I really couldn't tell what was what, and I wasn't about to go digging around inside. But I did see that I had torn right at the v of the bottom of my vaginal opening which further validated my need to be laying down as much as possible with my legs together. By week four, my vagina did look completely how it had pre baby and my body felt great. Not that this is the goal, but I really did feel back to how my body felt prior to pregnancy by four weeks, except for my breasts. Obviously they were a whole nother experience, But I really do contribute that a hundred percent to the fact that I spent three weeks laying down. I let everyone wait on me hand and foot, and I didn't even think about leaving the house, even when I felt stir crazy. When I did get cabin fever, I just went and sat or laid outside and let Johnny carry everything to me. You know, everyone had said, keep everything warm, close-up the house, keep your body warm, drink warm foods and teas, stay bundled up, no ice or cold things, but that just wasn't for me. Yes. I was obviously in Hawaii and I am a naturally warm person. I remember on the second day, the baby and I were both sweating. We were so hot and I was trying to follow this guideline everyone speaks of of staying bundled and no wind or warm foods. And finally I was just like, I can't do it. We need wind. We need fresh air. We need to be naked. I went and flung the French doors to the lanai open and we stripped off my robe and laid in the wind. And it felt amazing. From that point on, we were naked, fresh air, wind people. I eventually did try ice on my vagina and it was a godsend. I wish I had done it sooner, honestly. It seriously saved me and felt amazing. I had been using pads the first few days because I just thought that that's what you do, but they felt terrible. And then I remembered the concept of free bleeding, and I didn't use another pad. Because I was already staying home, I just laid a towel out on the bed or the couch and was naked one hundred percent of the time for weeks. Baby was either naked with me or in a diaper. If a friend or family member came over, I wore Thinx underwear and a light robe and then got naked again the second they left. I know that sleeping naked overnight helped my vagina heal tremendously. We have slept together since our first night and I wouldn't and don't think I even could have done it any other way. I sleep naked and she's in a diaper and we're touching in some way throughout the whole night. Not only is this the most romantic, intimate, connective thing I've ever experienced, but it's been really helpful in building this psychic bond between us. She doesn't have to do more than a wiggle in her sleep for my body to wake and know that she's hungry. We also all sleep really well. She and I used to wake twice in the night to feed, and now it's just once. And otherwise, it's a full night of sleep. Of course, Johnny loves it too. It's contributed hugely to us feeling like a super bonded pack. I suppose the last thing I wanna mention is that neither Johnny nor I had an immediate experience of love and recognition with our baby. Baby. So many women say things like, the baby came out and I saw their face and I just knew they were mine. It was love at first sight. I already knew them, etcetera, which is incredible. And I so did not have that experience. Though I had had this relationship with her spirit for so long, her in physical form felt quite strange. I remember on the fourth day or so, Johnny quietly says to me, hey, m. I'm having some bad feelings. Like, maybe I shouldn't be having. I said, okay. Well, what are they, babe? He says, I don't feel love. Like, I like her. She's cute, but like a puppy. Like I could, you know, give her back. I laughed and said, Oh my God, me too. And that lended itself to a wonderful and intimate conversation about how perhaps the sacred postpartum time isn't always about being in love with your baby, but maybe it's more about falling in love with your baby. We both trusted that the bonding would and was occurring and it was okay for it to look however it looked. Every day it grew. Every day there were moments when one of us would look at the other with tears in our eyes and say, oh wait, I think this is love. I think I might be having feelings of love. We kept it light and supportive. And of course, now at three months, we couldn't imagine, you know, life without her and all the sweet stuff that people say about their kids. But it was certainly a process. And I didn't really notice how bonded I was to her unless it was tested, meaning because she had stayed with me almost a hundred percent within my auric field for weeks. I didn't realize how it felt to have her not near me until it happened When my mom took her for a walk so that I could get some work done after an hour, I got all itchy and weird and was like, I need to touch my baby right now. It really hasn't felt right to be away from her for more than an hour or so. And even then, it just feels weird. It feels weird having her in the other room. I guess that's primal bonding at its essence. So, like I said, it's been thirteen weeks. The three of us haven't been apart for more than an hour or so. And Johnny starts his job here in Boulder next week. As I think most of you know, we had spent years saving up and planning for this long checkout time so that we could pull this off and have lived off our savings the last five months. But now it's time to join the world again. We, we spent a lot of money to do this and have this ideal scenario, but what else is money for? I mean, I wouldn't I wouldn't have changed a thing. I'm so grateful that we knew to honor this time as best as we could, and the whole thing really was just gorgeous. And now we're settled here in Boulder and loving it. It's a really wonderful place that definitely suits our lifestyle quite nicely. So thank you so much for listening to my story. And as always, I love to hear from you. You can find me on Instagram under free birth society. You can email me directly at free birth societygmail dot com. Com. Also, we have a huge announcement coming up next week. So if you aren't on the newsletter yet, you should get over there and join us so that you can be one of the first to hear about what we have going on this year. And with that, season one is ending. Crazy enough, I released the first podcast episode exactly one year ago. I'm gonna take a break for May to gear up for season two and to work on some other projects that Freebird Society has going on. Love you all. See you in season two. That's it for today, everyone. Join us next week for another episode of the free birth podcast. Thanks for joining us, and remember, your body, your choice. Lots of love.
