The Birth of Spiral-Moon

I wrote this post on Spiral-Moons birthday, the 14th of October last year, and I thought it was a wrap.  I had it all ready to go in the afternoon, and then I read it to Currawong, as I always do before I publish anything.  And at that particular time, he was feeling so raw and tender, and so sentimental for our days in Peterborough around the birth of Spiral, that he went on an impassioned rave about how special and amazing that birth was, and how I didn't go into near enough detail about it's beauty, and I couldn't publish it till I'd re-visited it at a later point, and filled in all the gorgeous details.  

So I put it away and forgot about it.  As you do.  With 7 kids and in the middle of life and living.  And just last night, the subject came up again, and I pulled it out and read it and he loved it.  A bit less tender and in a different space, it was a story that was ripe for the telling, and as a bit of a preamble to the post I'm working on at the moment about birth, and more particularly sex and bonding in birth.  As a response to public interest, written in my own words.  

Here you go then.  This is the story of the birth of Spiral-Moon, written and meant to be launched on the anniversary of her 6th lap around the sun.......posted belatedly.

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About this time six years ago we were all busy falling in love with a newborn Miss Spiral-Moon, my fourth baby. After my previous births - two hospital births and a home birth that hadn't quite been our families ideal - I wanted a fairly hands off birth, and was focused on the bonding period afterwards. And we were living in our own house for the first time, and taking full advantage of our privacy by enjoying a thoroughly sexual pregnancy.  She'd been born around dawn at Peterborough, in the most beautiful home/water/lotus birth we were ever a part of.  

After being scared off by the very narrow paradigms of the local hospital, we were gonna free birth, except for a very magical and long time midwife Rosey Smart-Vaher, who drove the 250 kms just to be there, and knew when it was going to happen, and would have just sat in her car as the backup if we'd asked her to.  But I was so glad she was there to be with and shelter us with her knowledge. 

The night she was born, I danced with my mum while she giggled about how she'd never seen me do THIS in a birth before, and later sat in a warm birthing pool in a room I’d covered with photos from my life, my loves, and my previous births and children.  I’d spent lots of time sitting there during my pregnancy, sending love and strong birthing energy to the me in the future who would birth in that room.  The whole room smelt of a powerful bush essence, that will forever take me right back to that room, and candles burnt for the whole joyous night.  It was a real time out of time.  Endless and timeless and like all the best aspects of late nights in my adventurous past.  Convinced this was going to be my last birth, (Ha!  Only half way there!!) I was determined to try every birthing position and aid I could think of, and my mum and I were the only ones awake, in a house exhausted by a day of gentle birthing.  

My mum and eldest daughter had taken the kids to Steamtown, so we could test-run sex during birth for the first time. It was more innocent and shy and philosophical, an approach recommended from the fundamentalist christian books I'd read that were reclaiming birth from doctors AND midwives,  and claiming that babies came out best the way they went in.  Also age old advice given to any woman wanting to bring on birth, as engaging in either sex, or a drive on a bumpy dirt road.  Currawong had loved it,  I was distracted and elsewhere, but it was fun nonetheless.  And all day little preparations for the birth that was slowly beginning were made.  The clothes, the blankets, and the hot water bottle to keep them warm, the rabbit fleece jacket I’d spun and made for her first garment, and the red leather pouch with umbilical cord holder that I’d made for our first Lotus birth.  And the surgical equipment and supplies that are stock and trade of a midwives tools, were boiled and ready to be used.

Towards night the expansions started stepping up and we all slowly filled the bath.   Everyone drifted off to sleep, and left me and my mother alone for hours to dance, and talk about birth, and I took odd moments in the birthing pool.  When the expansions really started hotting up, I called ‘CURRAWONG!’ through the house, and he was dressed and at my side within seconds.  Everyone else woke up too, and I lay back in the warm pool with my ears underwater and listened to the sounds of my body.  At one point I quipped “Not quite like the best sex I’ve ever had….” as a reference to sexual birthing and my desire for it.   Everyone laughed.

All during my pregnancy I’d worried about scaring my two younger children with my birth cries.  And so as I started to want to make noise, I toned, and I hummed, and I chanted.   Aware from the reading I’d done that the openness of the throat related to the openness of the cervix, I opened my mouth a lot like a Tibetan throat singer.  The noises seemed to come from the depths of my toes, and something about the controlled way they were coming out, helped me feel more powerful.  And the little ones said later that they weren’t scared, cause it sounded like I was singing.   The adults thought I’d sounded like I was channeling an elder…….

And then came transition.  The zenith of birthing pangs.  The most intense that it was going to get.  The most extreme test and initiation my body has ever gone through.  And I was laying on my back in the water, holding onto Currawongs arms as he stood behind me out of the pool, staring into his eyes, and telling him I loved him.  Over and over, as my body knew that it was full enough to burst, and gathered energy to start the quick process, to push her from my womb.  In that seemingly eternal moment between the body being ready to birth, and the actual push getting together to make it happen, I told him I loved him, and his tears of awe dripped onto my face. 

A few pushes and she was out, bouncing down to the bottom of the pool, and then rising to the surface, with her arm in the air like superbaby.  I raised my head from the water, and Rosey tapped my thigh and said “Your baby’s there…” and I picked her up myself, and held her to my chest, and knew right then and there that nobody knew what gender she was, and it was up to me to find out, and I could do it whenever I wanted, and take as long as I liked.  The feeling was euphoric.  I’d birthed her in warm water, chanted and toned her out, loved my man while it was happening, and then been the only person to touch her as she came earthside, and the one to find out what gender had been added to our family.  I don’t think I’ve known a more powerful, fulfilled and elated time in my life. 

Griff had woken up before she was born, chose to sit the birth out in the lounge, and then was at my side in an instant the moment she was born.   Lilly went in and out of the birthing room while the birth was happening, and was there for the actual birth, but had been able to regulate her own capacity for dealing with what was going on, by instructing my mum where to go.  Mum and Jess were in the room, and so was the shining Rosey.  Dawn was rising through the heavy velvet curtains, and starting to outshine the candles and tealights round the room.  The placenta was born, I got out of the pool, ate some food on the lounge, and had a quick shower, before heading into the bedroom to nestle in, say hello, have a huge cuddle, and meet the placenta laying still and cooling in a colander in a container on the bed.

A bit later, when the bliss was calming, Rosey took us on a guided tour of my placenta, of how it would have looked to Baby Moon (which is what we’d been calling her from the moment we knew she was there) while she was in her sac, and how it all would have sat.  You see, half the genetic material that’s created after the egg and sperm get together make the baby, and the other half make the placenta.  Your placenta is like your babies twin.  That keeps it fed and eliminated and protected and company…..  It was quite a magical experience.  And the first time I’d consciously met one of my placentas.  We washed it and dressed it like a loved dead body, and were amazed to watch that as it slowly died, Miss Moon slowly came awake.  The slowest out of all of my babies.  And she fully came awake and ready to engage with the world, on the 7^th day when her cord came away, and she was lotus born.  

Which is also when we had her birthday party, and a big pink placenta cake that the kids still talk about.  Balloons and presents for the other kids, party food and our magical midwife just happened to be there too, and our bonding was cemented as we all knew more love than we’d ever known before.

Weeks after she was born, I finally got my way and called her ‘Spiral-Moon’, for the spiral of hair that whorled round her third eye from the moment she was born.  People had freaked out about the name, and told us that it was negative, and that’s when we started to realize that the energy shift in us all since the birth of Spiral-Moon, had literally moved us to another place, where we fell out of attraction with a whole mob of people we’d been satelliting around for years, and fell into attraction with a whole mob of new and incredible people.  She changed our lives.  Her birth changed everything.  I felt like I could take on the world.

Months after she was born, the local newspaper printed an article about her birth, comparing it to the birth of baby Jesus in a manger.  The local journalist was surprisingly savvy bout home birth, as his partner was an activist, and he’d even read an obscure Michel Odent book that I hadn’t.  It was quite a rap for homebirthing. 

And every morning for the first year of her life, Griffyn would come into our bedroom first thing, to kiss her and say good morning and welcome to the day.

And now as she turns six, Miss Moon is still changing our lives and encouraging us to evolve, and has the most magical stories that flutter round her all the time.  When she has an impact on someone it’s huge.  She’s incredibly deep and sweet girl frilly all within moments.  And just yesterday morning she was starring in her very own musical, unaware that I was listening, and spent half an hour in her pink princess dress, singing about finding a shoe from the shoe box.  She’s the most loyal and true friend a person could ever ask for, and has a magical imagination that could take anyone on a journey, no matter who they were. 

I’m so glad you decided to come on down and turn our toadstool upside round Spiral-Moon!  And teach a powerful lesson about just how amazing a birth can actually be.  Thank you so much for showing us what a completely perfect birth for us actually feels like.  

Trust birth? Well mostly..........

A little while ago on Facebook, when I was talking about the search for a home, a midwife, and a doula, a woman asked me why I wasn’t considering freebirthing.  As she pointed out, I’ve got more experience in birthing than a lot of other folks around, and have thought very deeply about it all, so why do I feel the need to have a midwife?  The question really sat with me, and I wondered why myself.  I’ve always had a tremendous respect for women and families that freebirth, and for the last 4 births Currawong and I have tossed around the possibility of freebirthing……..but it never really materialised into a realistic proposition for me.  But I’m really glad the question was asked, as ever since it’s been sitting at the back of my brain pan, tumbling around with all my other thoughts, and it’s been an interesting journey following all the threads that come from it. 

In my toolkit of experiences, I’ve had a few run in’s with homebirthing midwives that were less than empowering, and a few with doctors and hospitals as well.  I’ve read books from the Christian fundamentalist right wing about unassisted birth, and how midwives, doctors and all other birth workers just get in the way of what should naturally be a magical experience shared by the mum and dad alone.  And I really related to what was written.  When the books drew attention to the observation that many women focused their oxytocic love, thanks and bonding on the midwife, rather than their mate, I could really see what they were talking about.  There’s so many birth stories I’ve read, where women talk in loving and glowing terms about their midwives, and all their other family members kinda take a back seat to the show.  And there’s a lot of intervention that some midwives get into that is totally unnecessary and just gets in the way, like giving internals, and cutting cords quickly, and catching the baby and ‘giving’ it to the mamma.  And after having a less than positive experience with homebirthing midwives, I really got into this way of looking at midwife led births for a while…….only to get pregnant again, cleanse a lot of my negative juju about midwives by meeting one who listened to me rant and agreed with me, and then was present at our birth in the most unobtrusive way possible, and gave me the gift of ‘catching’ my own baby.  I then went on to become a bit of a homebirthing and midwife advocate, till Balthazar came a long and introduced me to the blessings of western medicine.  And of course in my most recent and publicised birth of twins, Lisa was an integral, necessary, and much loved part of the process, and I definitely had a lot to say about her in my writings.

And while I know the statistics of caesareans in hospitals is incredibly alarming, and I get the whole interventionist dance that often leads to caesareans, as well as the scare mongering that happens from doctor folks when homebirth or natural birth is suggested…..I’ve had some really empowering, respectful, and peaceful births in hospitals too.  My main beef with hospitals has been their overwhelming attitude that birth is fraught with danger, and that birth belongs in the same corridors as deathly illnesses, physical trauma, great sickness and slow death.  I’ve got a bit of a problem too, with how the trend in hospitals at the moment is to separate mamma’s and babies, and that whole invasive separation they do with cleaning, testing, jabbing needles etc.  Kinda doesn’t really aid in a gentle welcome, compassion for a little being who’s been living in a controlled, peaceful and watery womb, and bonding.  Also, how it’s really hard to feel safe and cave like, and tap into a woman’s mammalian brain, in the sterile and bright environment of a hospital ward.   But then again, if a woman is really afraid of birth and what might happen, maybe for her a hospital is the safe place that she needs to be able to fully relax into the birthing process?  Afterall, even though much ado is made of interventionist practices in hospital, there are still a huge amount of women who birth naturally and without drugs in them.

To be brutally honest, I don’t think either camp has all the answers, or even all the questions, and I think that both homebirthing midwives and their supporters, and hospital birth workers and their supporters are two halves of the same whole.  Very antagonistic and despising of each other halves, but halves nonetheless.  And while they’re stuck in this anti each other and polarising dance for the soul of birth, a lot of women, children, families and individuals on both sides of the track are being overlooked, seriously neglected, and damaged in the process.  On the one side we have the birth trusting, all women have been beautifully designed to birth naturally, and by the way we’ve been doing it for thousands of years, so hospitals and doctors should just get back in their boxes, and take their hands off birth, and leave us all to do it peacefully at home approach, that also makes a fair deal about the scaremongering of doctors and obstetricians, and how a lot of their ‘facts’ are lies.  And then on the other side we have the medical approach that points to the harm that can come to unprepared women and families facing an emergency situation at home, and perhaps a long way from a hospital, as well as some of the dangers that can be faced when there’s an un-regulated body of birth workers attending births at home.  There’s also the body of information they hold about the dangers of birth, and how fraught birth HAS been in our history.  Yes many women pushed out babes on the fields and kept going, but a lot of them experienced babies getting stuck, and dying, and cords around necks stopping them from being born, and a hundred other possibilities that can and do happen even in these days of improved diet and hygiene and birth trusting.  But unfortunately, it’s the mainstream medical model that has the weight of the government and legal practitioners behind them, willing to send the horses of the apocalypse after homebirthers, and resulting in an unfairly balanced war effort on behalf of the hospital birthing scene.    

And the result of this antagonistic polarising dance in my opinion anyway, is causing many a casualty in the self esteem and bonding of families and birthing women across the board.  Unsuprisingly, with the amount of kids bounding around us every time we’re in public, a lot of my conversations with people we come across revolve around birth and kids.  And I’m really saddened that a lot of women respond to my stories with half ashamed accounts of how they weren’t brave enough to try birthing at home, or they tried and just couldn’t cut it, or they used every drug they possibly could because they were so afraid, or they didn’t have any option because their pelvis was too small, or they had health complications, or they had a natural birth and it traumatised them, or they suffered post natal depression, or a million other reasons why they didn’t give birth in either the wholistic, alternative accepted manner, or the hospital, mainstream accepted manner.  And these women all take it onto themselves, as their own fault, as their own body failing them in birth, as their inability to birth ‘properly’ being all their own doing, as an experience that happened to them that was less than they hoped, the result of which, can put some serious bricks in the wall of their lack of self esteem and body confidence, which then leeches from their parenting confidence, and sense of connection with their families, and becomes part of the general body of stories around birth that go unacknowledged from either side of the polarised fence, as it doesn’t fit appropriately into their accepted picture of what birth is.

I see so many women and families in pain around their birthing experiences, that I’ve taken to saying something like this to them….. 

“Ya know what darlin?  There is no ‘perfect’ birth, birth just is what it is.  Every one is different, and every birth is perfect if you let it be, no matter whether it was at home or in the hospital.  And we haven’t been designed perfectly to give birth, cause we CHANGED OUR DESIGN!!  When we decided to grow our frontal lobes and walk upright we changed our design from the less problematic mammalian birth canals that were straight, and we turned them into this twisty birth canal that can really cause problems.    And babies had to be born a year premature, which meant they couldn’t walk like all the other mammal babies, so mother nature had to create a tricksy system of oxytocic rewards if we held them to us and fed them when they were hungry, so they weren’t eaten by dogs or stolen by other tribes.  You just need to be true to yourself and do what feels good for you, cause that’s all that counts really.  Trying to birth or parent in any kind of way because that’s what you’ve been told is ‘right’ is never gonna work, cause it doesn’t carry the weight of your belief and life experience.  Don’t let anyone tell you what to do, and listen to yourself and your new baby whose instincts haven’t been convinced otherwise yet, and all will be fine…”

Or something like that anyway. 

Cause the biggest casualty in the war over birth is birth itself.  And it is a war, and quite a vicious one at times.  Nastiness and personal attacks are hurled by both sides, personalities especially associated with either camp singled out for horrific attention, and it seems that no-one’s getting the law of attraction proven by quantum physics, that you get more of what you focus on!  And my own personal experience that you become what you hate is also coming into this equation.  No one is winning anything, except for long drawn out battle plans being enacted, and a lot of energy being spent on the fight.  And a whole lot of people are losing, their integrity, their passions, their experiences being validated, and their sense of self worth.  Sometimes it seems to me that the fight just takes up too much space.

In an ideal world, both halves of birth would come together and hold hands instead.  Doctors and obstetricians would study their own sciences, especially that of Ethnopaediatrics and the beautiful works of Dr Sarah Buckley, Leboyer, Michel Odent, and all the others who’ve championed gentle and welcoming births, and provide birthing centres all over the world that allowed lesser and greater influences of homebirth and hospital birth depending on the blend required by the families that use them.  And homebirthing midwives who feel drawn to the trade, will work co-operatively with them in partnership and backup, so that all the potentialities of birth can be dealt with effectively and cohesively.  And the women and families entering the mysterious world of birth will have equal access to all the different perspectives and possibilities available, and have free access to whatever option works for them, based on their life experience and deeply held beliefs.  And imagine what we could do with all the energy focused on this war if the war dissolved!!  If the polarity that exists melted into a whole, there would be no ‘taboo’ subjects left anymore, so women walking into birth for the first time could explore the possibilities of natural caesareans for example, and alternative forms of pain relief, and maybe, just maybe, we could also focus our attention on what happens AFTER birth, a largely ignored realm in many birthing circles.  We focus on the conception, the pregnancy, the hormones, the birth and all it’s possibilities, but what happens after?  What about the importance of bonding?  The exhaustion many women feel after entertaining family hours after birthing? How to fold cloth nappies?  How to deal with sibling rivalry?  How to deal with the issues of step parenting?  How to address problems that occurred during the birth and set up patterns that aren’t life enhancing?  How to ‘unlearn’ survival skills that we’ve been taught by our parents that don’t help us survive, and in fact may be really stuffing us up?  I can think of worlds that we could be spending our collective energy on that would be far more rewarding than the argy bargy between hospital and home birthing.

So to get back to the original question, I guess that on deep contemplation, I’d have to say that I trust birth implicitly metaphysically, but not completely physically.  I’m aware of the things that can go wrong, and that HAVE gone sideways for me in my experiences, and when I’m in that intensely vulnerable and ‘elsewhere’ state of engaging in the age old dance of birth, I really like someone around to hold my hand, and who I know will cover my back.  Someone who isn’t Currawong and my family, who are caught up with their own experience, but who is there to just focus on me and the baby inside me coming out safely.  Someone who knows enough about the intricacies of birth to be able to fix any solvable problems at home, and also to get us the hell out of there and to a hospital on time if that’s what is needed.  And I’m so greatful for the folk that spend years in university learning how to help me and others when we really need them in hospitals, as well as the midwives who dig into the past to find old ways of birthing, as well as making alternative information available as well.  I’m greatful for all birthworkers really, and see the value in all their work and ideas.  I just wish it was something that they and others could see mutually and in themselves as well.

But that’s just my perception of birth, and the best way to do it, and when it comes down to it, I’d argue for anyone else’s perceptions till I’m blue in the face, cause that’s what it’s all about to me.  The combination of all our experiences and perceptions are equally valid and enhancing if taken that way, to the whole.  And if we put em all together and respect them all, we have a really healthy blueprint for the evolution of us all and our consciousness so we can USE those frontal lobes we traded easier births for, to help our planet and ourselves move beyond this warring and fighting over who’s right and wrong that happens in every sector, and move into an evolution of love, respect, peace and freedom for every single thing in the universe.  I’ll keep dreaming it up………

How to work towards an empowered caesarean Part 3

This is the letter I wrote to Flinders Hospital, or more specifically, the people present at my caesarean.......


Friday, 5 December 2008

Flinders Medical Centre
Att:Names of the 11 people present are kept out for reasons of privacy

Dear people.

On the 28th of November, my partner, daughter, and 2 midwives came into Flinders after giving a homebirth a serious but safe go, and you all assisted us tremendously by performing an emergency Caesarean. As it happened, there was no way in the world that a homebirth could have happened, as my baby’s cord was around his neck, and he was ‘leashed’ high in my uterus by the placenta. If we were living in a place without medical facilities, the chances are that my baby and I would have died without this procedure. For which you have my deep and profound thanks. And I honour the work and study that you all have done, that enabled you to perform this process quickly, safely, and with such wonderful respect and people skills.

As you may have noticed from reading my birthing plan, I was a bit of a homebirthing nazi before this experience, and as with a lot of humans, I had to have a different experience that affected me directly, in order for me to change my judgements and opinions. Incidentally, I’m also in the process of writing a book about birth, sex, and death, that I now believe would have been seriously one eyed and unbalanced, had I not had this experience.

I don’t know whether you all would be aware of it or not, but there is a large body of information on homebirths, ‘freebirths’, and other birthing alternatives, coming from alternative midwives, blogs, the internet, and books. Believe it or not, ( I was quite surprised! ) some of the largest advocates of unassisted births are members of the religious right, who believe that doctors, midwives, and doula’s all get in the way of how God intended babies to be born, which is into their fathers hands, after the mother and father helped the baby come naturally into birth through sexual acts. And yes, you could have knocked me over with a feather when I stumbled on that particular sect of birthing lore as well!!

I also read a lot of Sarah J. Buckley, a Queensland doctor who has had 4 homebirths and 2 lotus births, and has published many essays on the natural hormonal process of birth. She highlights how as mammals, we have a cocktail of hormones within us that is released during the birth process, if we behave as other mammals behave, and find a dark, quiet, unobserved spot where we feel safe, and keep out of our logical brains and trust to our mammal instincts. And I read a book about Lotus birth by Shivam Rachana, a Melbourne midwife.

There’s also Grantly Dick-Read, the father of the ‘natural birthing’ movement, and Leboyer, who championed reverence around birth in relation to the baby’s needs, and Michel Odent who started the water birthing movement, and writes often about gentle birthing. Not to mention the more well known authors Sheila Kitzinger and Janet Balaskas, who write about active birthing and taking an empowered role in birth Deepak Chopra also has a lot to say about gentle natural births, and has even created a birthing centre in America, where lots of work is done pre birth, during the experience, and afterwards, to create a conscious, gentle experience.

And of course my beliefs have also been shaped by my personal experiences. My first daughter was born in Katoomba hospital with a midwife, my personal doctor and my mother, and was a birth reflecting my little amount of knowledge on natural birthing. My waters were broken, I had pethidine, and it was a shock. 9 years later after meeting the love of my life we decided to birth in a hospital because we didn't know much about the options. I lounged in the spa bath, had my partner, mum, 2 support friends and the midwife on duty, we played music and the midwife thought we were having a party more than a birth, I had a bit of gas, and when I was only 8 cms dilated the midwife went off to get her machines and prepare for a birth she thought was going to be a while longer, and while she was out of the room my son's head crowned (he was born in his sac) and was born before she got back in the room. The first thing I said was “That was so easy”. With my 3rd birth we decided to try a homebirth, had a totally easy and natural birth in a birthing pool in my mothers loungeroom, with 3 midwives and my other children around. Knowing now how well I birthed, when my 4th child was on the way, we bought a house in Peterborough and were going to have an unassisted birth, but before my 4th child was born I met Rosey, and she kept in touch and offered me support. Now Rosey is a magical midwife, and after her 30 years of experience she has a large amount of instinct and intuition, so when I went into labour she already knew, and was most of the way on the 250 km drive to our house. She came into our birthing space and made everything safe and had all contingencies catered for, calmly and knowledgeably held the space for us, and when my daughter was born into the birthing pool, she gave me the huge gift of letting me be the first person to collect my baby from the water, which was incredible. As I sat there just having birthed, holding my baby in my arms, it occurred to me that I was the one who would find out what gender my baby was, and I could take as little or as long as I liked. It was incredible. We didn't leave the house for a month as we had a 'baby moon', we performed a lotus birth, and the oxytocic wash of love and bonding that surrounded our family was one of the most amazing and transformative events of my life.

My birthing knowledge has also been influenced by the incredible dedication and advocacy of local midwives, notably Rosey Vaher and Lisa Barrett, who are constantly trying to make options, possibilities, and realities available for local women, that encompasses both medical and homebirthing options, depending on necessity, reality, desire, and ability. These two women more than anyone else I know, are trying to make the paths between the medical and homebirthing models easier for their clients and everyone else involved, and to bring the focus from what either the medical or homebirthing fraternities believe to be ‘true’, to what is right for the family, mother and child, in every individual situation. I was fortunate to have these two women at the homebirthing part of this birth, as well as with me at the hospital, and they ensured my safety, as well as informed me of my realistic options when it became clear that this baby wouldn’t be born at home. I originally only booked Rosey to be my midwife, but when it became clear that this baby was in a breech position, and may have even been two babies, we asked Lisa to be a part of our homebirth as well, to ensure complete care, safety, and two valuable opinions. To have the continuity of Rosey being at home with me, and then being allowed into theatre made the world of difference as well. As someone who understood what was happening medically as well as knowing me personally, she could translate the events in a way that kept me feeling informed and acknowledged, and continues to do so as part of my after birth care as well..

As you may well imagine, in a lot of the books I’ve read about birth, Caesareans are described as traumatic and often damaging to both mother and child, as well as vastly over performed by a litigation fearing medical establishment. There’s much made of the possible complications and negative side effects, as well as a medical institution that only considers the birth in it’s medical terminology, and not the spirituality, confidence, attitudes and well being of the mother and child before, during and after the event.

And also as you may well imagine, as I was on my way to Flinders for what I guessed was going to be a Caesarean, having painful contractions out of the water that I love to birth in, into the ‘den of iniquity’ as described by much of my reading, I was absolutely terrified. It seemed all my fears had been wrapped up into one experience, and I was to face them all at the same time.

Imagine how incredibly grateful and overjoyed I was to encounter people smiling at me from the minute I came to Flinders, and how thrilled I was at how quickly the whole process was enacted. At the professional, informative, and respectful attitudes I came across in all the health professionals we dealt with, and how incredibly relieved I felt when the pain was stopped and it was nowhere near as bad as I’d thought it would be, in fact, not bad at all. Everyone of you who was in the room was friendly, told me exactly what you’d be doing, treated me gently, respected my wishes in all the details, helped me to have a lotus birth, told me all the details I needed to make an informed decision, and were graceful as you went about your jobs. For which I again want to offer the hugest gratitude I can muster.

And I’m also profoundly thankful that this experience happened before I went about publishing my book, as there is obviously a huge role and place for western medicine in birthing emergencies, and I realise now I had huge judgements about it, that would have been damaging to many women who went through similar situations to mine, and who would have been hurt and felt judged by my hardline attitudes. I was a homebirthing nazi, and now I believe I have a more well rounded opinion about all birthing options, and how we can access them and remain empowered, informed, and conscious.

I’m deeply grateful that my son and I are alive, and it’s thanks to you all that we are. And I realise now that I did get the perfect birth that I was after, but just not in the way that I thought it would be before it happened. I feel empowered not belittled by my experience, and I’m finding it interesting bumping up against attitudes similar to what mine were about Caesareans in the broader community. I intend to continue to tell my story to any who are interested, and describe the process and all of your actions in glowing terms. In my circles, Caesareans are often described as failures, horrific events, and in saddened tones. People don’t quite know what to do when I say that I had a perfect birth, and that the experience was amazing and empowering. As an unexpected and wonderful side effect, a few women who previously thought there must have been something wrong with them for their need to have a Caesarean, are reconsidering that notion, now that an ‘earth mother’ homebirther like me on her 5th birth had one!

As you're probably aware, there's a lot of debate at the moment about midwives and homebirthing, and I hope that you'll all keep in mind this story, as you enter discussions and decisions about homebirthing midwives and women's and families choices in birth. Having the continuous care of my homebirthing midwife also coming into the hospital with me, definitely eased my mind and helped me feel safer. And I'm certain that being left to a naturally induced labour, and spending a large amount of the birthing time at home, helped this experience to be a positive one, rather than the disempowered and horrific experience that many women feel on having a caesarean.

Also, in the year since my caesarean, I've found out some interesting things, mainly because for the first few months I experienced a mild form of post natal depression. Now I'm aware that what I'm about to talk about may be a very different paradigm of reality than what you all work within, but with the advancements of Quantum Physics and all the information coming to light about how much a person's thought affects their reality and physical health, I ask you to suspend cynicism and just go with me on this one for a minute. When I got sick of fighting with my partner and feeling perpetually angry and wondering why I'd birthed babies for years and never experienced an after period like this before, I self diagnosed Post Natal Depression from the Edinburgh Scale, and then started seeking treatment by alternative practitioners. I was fortunate to find Russel Smith, and Ayurvedic masseuse, and Andrea Hart, an accupuncturist, who between them pieced together the story for me. As Russel informed me caesareans by the very nature of the cut (there's no judgement in this by the way, I understand that it's the only safe place to cut, and I KNOW that this operation is neccesary and life saving), cut through a major meridian in the body, and the results of this, produce symptoms incredibly close to post natal depression. And I found this information further fleshed out by Andrea Hart, who told me that where the spinal goes in, is a place that accupuncturists never go near, as that point is one that locks off all power to the lower body. Again, no judgement in that statement, as power and sensation in the lower body need to be dulled to perform the operation, but the effects last longer than those of the anasthetic. And again, the effect on the body and psyche of these points being cut and having needles in them, are the same as the effects of postnatal depression.

I felt instantly relieved on finding this all out, as I could stop blaming myself for being an lesser mother than I had been, and realised why it was all happening. I also found their treatments helped me tremendously on the path to healing, and am now completely recovered. As accupuncturists are now covered by medicare to be present at births, (funny that this comes at a time when homebirthing midwives may not), this information may be handy for you when dealing with women who are having or have had caesareans and aren't feeling tip top.

Incidentally, I've also recently discovered Ethnopediatrics, and am supported in my beliefs of co-sleeping and attachment parenting as being biologically kind on my babies since reading about it. Some of the nurses in my convalescence in hospital had a bit of a hard time with me not letting my baby go or putting him in a cot It's worth a look at this new science, and very fascinating reading....

I'd best stop before this letter becomes too much of an epic, but I just want to say again, thank you all for being there, and for your thoughfullness, respect, and for giving me and empowered caesarean. From the bottom of my heart, thanks.

Hellena Post, Currawong and family.

How to work towards an empowered caesarean Part 2

On the afternoon of the 27th of November I went into gentle labour, and hung out with Currawong slowly getting ready, resting between expansions, and being gently sexual. Later that night it hotted up and I felt like the baby/ies were gonna come before my midwives even got there. I made Currawong call everyone over, and wake two fellow community members to help him cart water for me. I was riding the expansions like I'd ride an orgasm, and my whole family and midwives and two community members were holding space for me in a totally honourable way. My waters broke while I was in the birthing pool, and the plug popped like a champagne cork against the pool. But I could only get to a certain point, which felt to me like it was just one step behind transition, and could go no further. My beautiful midwives gave me the time and space to come to my own conclusions within safe limits, and also gave me many suggestions about how to birth a breech baby, which it still was, not having miraculously turned at the last minute. It was a beautiful time, a fellow community member stroked my face in the pool and told me that I WAS the goddess, she also fed kids and made sure that everyone was ok. My mum was there gently in the background giving me her rock like support like she always has. All my kids were looking forward to meeting their new sibling. I faced one of my fears – to have expansions out of the water – and found it wasn't that bad. We hung a rope from the ceiling and I bounced on a ball, we walked around outside and did the labyrinth in our back yard. For the first time in my birthing history I masturbated through expansions, and found that this helped a lot. I also got into some raw sex with Currawong hoping this would help things along. My midwives were there the whole time, checking me and my baby/ies, making sure everything was safe.

At around 11 in the morning on the 28th of November, I finally faced the fact that my baby/ies weren't going to come at home, and we had to transfer to hospital. You know how in hindsight things make so much more sense than you thought at the time? Well for the first time in our birthing history Currawong had made a bed with a plastic sheet underneath in our magic bus, and all that was left was to pack a bag and go. That trip down to Flinders hospital was the longest and scariest of my life. Another fear faced. To have to transfer to hospital and be driven whilst in childbirth. One of the midwives came with me to hold my hand while Currawong and my big daughter sat in the front and drove, and another midwife met us there and stayed with my big girl while Currawong and my hand-holding midwife went in.

And from the moment I walked into the hospital, everyone just smiled at me. The front desk person who had been warned I was coming told me how calm I looked and was surprised I'd been in labour for the past 19 hours. Everyone in the halls smiled at me, and we got swept straight away into a room where they gave me gas and found out what details they needed, took off my birthing plan to read, (HA! Oh to have been a fly on the wall when they read THAT one...), and got me ready for the hospital process. The head obstetritian just happened to be available, and this tall strapping fella who reminded me of one of my brothers gave me an ultrasound and described to me respectfully and gently everything he was doing. He told me that I had just the one baby, and that the cord was around his neck with a high placenta, and that the only way he was going to come out into the world without dying was to have a caesarean. It was just as well that he hadn't engaged in the birth canal fully, because the pull would probably have strangled him. By this time I was so profusely greatful that the end was in sight, and that I couldn't have done it on my own, and that they were all THERE and being so sweet to me, that I just thanked him again and again, and everyone else who I came into contact with. Thanked them for being there, thanked them for studying so hard so they knew what to do, and thanked them for helping me. On this amazing slide through the hospital system, I also just happened to be there when the surgery was available, so we went straight in, and I found myself in a room full of smiling people who all introduced themselves to me and told me what their role was. The paediatrician shook my hand and told me that if all went well he wouldn't be touching me or my baby, to which I gave him profound thanks, and the anesthetist looked like a total dude. I thanked them all in as many ways as I could think of, and I think they were a bit surprised (especially after reading my birth plan) at how effusively greatful this strapping hippy earth mother type was being. I even managed to crack a joke when my spine was having a needle put into it and he told me it would feel like an ant bite. “What sort of ant?” I asked in a droll fashion. They all laughed. While all this was happening, the head obstetritian was in the corner on a computer googling 'placenta, lotus birth', and getting ready to be part of his first lotus birth, no questions asked, and no judgement given. My midwife was allowed in which I found out later was NOT the norm, and they seated Currawong next to me and told him he could look at what was happening if he wanted. The midwife who was with me told me later that I'd got the Gold Card treatment, and that she'd never before seen a caesarean where the staff were wanting to stand so close to the mother. I had a hospital midwife behind me, stroking my hair while it was all happening.

Another fear faced – having a caesarean. It was freaky. Made so much less freaky by the respectful and gentle attitudes around me, but freaky nonetheless. From the moment the anasthetic hit me I shook uncontrollably, teeth rattling in my head. Most of it is a bit of a blur because I was so totally focused on the person inside me and when he was going to be in my arms. There was a sheet between them and me, and to this day, the most traumatic part of the whole experience was hearing him cry, and not being able to touch and comfort him instantly. Still. Because I was having a lotus birth, they only held him till my placenta was out, and gave him straight to me then, which was only about 3 minutes, and by all accounts a HUGELY shorter time between birth and arms than most other women having a caesarean experience. And when he was handed to me I only had one arm with which to hold him as the other was strapped down with a drip, and he was laid across my chest with his head on my lips. After gusty screaming during the separation, he laid face down with his hands by the side of his face, and settled down to almost sleep, as soon as my lips touched his head and I murmured a welcome to him. And he didn't leave my arms except for when Currawong or my family held him for about 6 weeks afterwards.

And I'm positive that this experience was so positive BECAUSE I'd birthed as much as I could at home powerfully, sexually and spiritually, doing the labyrinth and the rest and BECAUSE I didn't know what the outcome would be before it happened and I walked into the experience open hearted and expecting the best ( I may have been tempted to book in for a caesarean if I knew before hand that it was the only way he was coming out ), and BECAUSE I'd written such a kick-arse birthing plan before it happened, and BECAUSE I trusted in my body and my life experience and surrendered to the experience. All these factors combined just picked me up on a big beautiful wave that bore me through the whole hospital experience.

Healing took a long time. Gone forever were my illusions about caesareans being an 'easy' option. I went into the hospital a vibrant young woman, and came out middle aged. I had less patience than usual, felt like I'd gone back to my teen years in terms of insecurity and having a low body image, and things that I'd usually let slide made me ravenously angry. In lots of ways I was depressed, insecure, and low. About 5 months down the track I self diagnosed Post Natal Depression from the Edinburgh scale, and at least felt like I had somewhere to start in making it right.

I sought a consultation with Russel, the Ayurvedic Masseuse, and he explained to me that my major meridian had been cut, which resulted in symptoms very close to post natal depression. He also said that the scalpel being steel was a conductor, so whatever energy the surgeon had, or mood they were in, was left as a memory in my body. He gave me a massage and showed me how to arch my fingers over the scar to heal the meridian. And then I was fortunate enough to meet the beautiful Andrea Hart, acupuncturist, who happens to be one of the few acupuncturists in the country who knew about how to heal caesareans, as she'd had one herself when learning. She went on to confirm what Russel said, as well as add to the meridian information the knowledge that where they put spinal needles in caesareans, is a place that acupuncturists never go near, as it locks off the power to the bottom half of your body. Sessions with her helped to restore my 'chi', as well as repair the damage done by the spinal and the cut. I also sought a few sessions with a psychologist, who showed me some ways to help heal my head. But I'd have to say that the best healing occurred when 4 of our children and my mother got whooping cough, all moved into our house, and all needed love. Currawong and I were going through one of the roughest patches we'd had in a long time before whooping cough hit. And realised that whooping cough was all about love and we had to put our fighting in our back pockets. We noticed that the kids got sicker when we fought, and that old saying 'fake it till you make it' proved true. By the time whooping cough was over we were in love again, and because the fear had been so strong, other issues like post natal depression paled into insignificance. On Balthazar's first birthday I realised that I was back to my old self, fit and strong again, and all the issues around a caesarean had abated.

We sat around our home with the people who were at our birth and talked about what had happened, how we realised that the caesarean had taken over Balthazar's birth story, and we hadn't talked about the powerful birthing at home. We reclaimed our home birth, and when Currawong was crying and talking about the most intense part of Balthazar's birth for him – which was driving me safely to the hospital – a tree branch cracked and broke outside our house, and it felt like the experience was released. We realised that we'd all been enriched by the experience, and learnt so much that the whole birth became a valuable nugget of learning. Some of my deepest birthing fears had been faced, and we were all stronger and wiser for the experience. Thank you Balthazar, and thank you my beautiful and strongly loving partner and family, and thank you to our community......