Birth Story

This first photo below was taken in a room in my home that I had prepared for months with love and care for a beautiful home birth. I had art, affirmations and a birthing pool ready to go. What I didn’t have was any clue that in the days to come, I’d wake up, 39 weeks pregnant, with a feeling...a knowing, a hunch -that for whatever reason, I should go get my blood pressure checked. So I tried to meet with my midwife but North Shore traffic was at a complete stand-still, so I turned around. She encouraged me via text to listen to my intuition, so I made a doctor’s appointment and headed towards town. As I drove, I found every excuse I could think of to go to town- random groceries, etc- since I couldn’t justify what I was doing. My blood pressure was always perfect- always. And it had just been checked two days ago. When I got to the Dr. I was told it had skyrocketed. I was sent straight to the hospital and it kept getting higher. Bloodwork was done. Platelets were dropping and I was diagnosed with preeclampsia- a disease that’s apparently the number one killer of moms and babies since the beginning of time. It looked as though I might have a stroke. My body was having a reaction to my own placenta. The only cure was delivery. Can you imagine my shock and resistance? I swore I was going on a mere grocery run and blood pressure check. I swore I was going to have a beautiful, all-natural birth in the quiet of home. Instead I was in the hospital, being told I had a life threatening disease, surrounded by strangers. Thankfully, these strangers- Doctors, nurses, midwives- were the most respectful team of wise women. They treated me with love and respect. They dealt with me prolonging the whole process to have more time to think. Every time I questioned or resisted their advice, they told me, “You are the captain of this ship Mama. You call the shots.” They knew I hadn’t wanted drugs, induction or them. And they honored those feelings. They told me it wasn’t my fault. They let me steer. But when Buddy’s heart rate had a four minute deceleration, I saw the truth in their eyes. They asked me if I’d like to continue with induction. I think I shocked them all- not when I said “no,” but when I said that I’d instead like a spinal tap and planned c-section. This was as opposite as it gets when it came to my dreams of birth. Yet when I made that decision, I felt empowered and strong and warrior-ready. These women graced me with the knowledge and support to lead this journey and as we prepared together for the biggest moment of my life, we locked eyes deeply and shared a mana and a bond so strong- a “got yo back girl” vibe so powerful that it lit up the room. The buzz was tangible. I remember the speech the Dr. gave to her team about moving safely but swiftly due to the baby’s decelerations. I remember the nods, the eyes- that all pierced right through me saying “You’ve got this.” I remember Justin’s beautiful blue eyes, wet with tears as he told me how much he loved me and how strong I was. I remembered my sister’s speech earlier that day when I confessed to her that I had wanted my natural birth to be my rite of passage into motherhood and how I was giving that up. “Listen here,” she said. “I have never seen you more present ever or more willing to dig as deep as you have to make the best decision every step of the way for your baby. Welcome to motherhood Kimi because it’s never going to stop from here on out. This is your right of passage and by the way- you, breaking open your own body for the sake of your child is not giving up. It’s stepping up.” The medicine kicked in. I couldn’t feel anything. The blue sheet was up, I couldn’t see anything. But I could hear like I never heard before. I heard everything. Every word, every moment. Every time they paused. I listened harder than I ever listened in my life. And then -I heard their breathing simultaneously change. Some let out a sigh, some a happy gasp, it was a split-second chorus that became one breath -and I knew it meant victory. Then I heard the most beautiful sound in the world, my baby’s voice. His cute strong little cry. Tears rolled down my face. We did it together. Buddy’s middle name is Na’au. Literally, na’au means “gut” it’s that region of your abdomen and where he exited my body safely and entered this world. But spiritually, it means that feeling, that knowing that place where the answers live deep within you. Your intuition, higher-self, the compass that is there to guide you. I’m so happy that I listened to my na’au that day and so grateful that I was surrounded with a team who honored my process, helped me navigate and allowed me the space, support and empowerment I needed to meet my baby.  It was the most powerful moment of my whole life.