In June of 2015, I received a positive pregnancy test result in a Starbucks bathroom on a trip to Toronto. I should have been starting my moon cycle that day and just out of curiosity and boredom, I found myself slipping into a drugstore and buying a chocolate bar and a test. I couldn’t believe my eyes as that familiar excitement swept over me…I was vibrating with happiness and hope! As I left the coffee shop, I immediately called JP to share the news. I was walking down the busy streets on a beautiful day shouting, “I’m pregnant!” to the smiles of strangers strolling past.

Needless to say, he was elated. We were just too happy to let fear creep into our thoughts in those first few days.

That first trimester would prove to be an emotional roller coaster for me. I cried, a lot. I was scared. I also felt very alone in my experience. Most of my friends and family reacted with cautious and cordial well wishes and it was like I could sense their dread. I know Sage’s death was hard on many people in our lives, but their withholding of genuine excitement felt alienating to me. I cried at my friend’s wedding to a mutual friend who is a birth worker and I felt so silly and out of control. But she was supportive and loving and offered compassion. So did Vivianne, of course. Turns out, she was also expecting a baby! She was roughly 3 weeks ahead of me. I was aware of not wanting to lean too heavily upon her, as she was going through her own experience.

I was at home in Canada during this time, but we were going back to Japan at the end of August, roughly at the beginning of my fourth month. I spent this second trimester and most of the third in quiet consciousness. I walked every day, but I didn’t do anything too strenuous. I practiced gentle Yoga, but there were a lot of days that I let myself nap or take things slow. There was only one time when I convinced myself that I was miscarrying, but other than that I faced my fears and choose to trust in this experience. Part of that trust, was resolving not to seek any outside medical care throughout my pregnancy, birth or afterwards. At the time of this publishing, Selah is almost 3 years old and has never been to a doctor. She is thriving beautifully. In this pregnancy, I had shed another layer of illusion. I assumed full responsibility for the choice to create life and accepted all the beauty and pain that could come with it. Ultimately, there was nothing that an ultrasound or test would do for me, as I believed in the natural order of birth and yes, even the natural order of death. Trusting myself through this process has made me a much stronger and in tune woman. I was generally happy and very healthy, but I worked very consciously through my fears and demons.

I was expecting this baby to come in February or early March, somewhere in the midst of the hockey season and playoffs. I was left with a big choice. To birth in Japan with JP, or to go home and have Vivianne and Maggie there, as well as loving friends. JP’s schedule was pretty gruelling at this time, he traveled for long stretches and could have been away a lot around Selah’s birth. I felt that I would be more alone there, then at home. It was a very difficult decision, but I ultimately chose to go home in my 36th week. Szerafina came with me and we nested back into our little home in the city. My friends and sisterhood were amazing! I was nurtured and so well taken care of. Friends came to visit, helped me freeze meals, brought freshly baked bread and just spent time with us girls. It was a desperately harsh and cold winter, but we remained cozy. I loved our Saturday mornings at the farmer’s market, buying a fresh chicken almost every week to roast and turn into broth. I ate lots of nourishing soups, stews and curries during that time.

We had a Blessing Way almost immediately after I arrived back in Canada. A combination of a welcome home and ceremony for me and my baby. This time, it was held at Maggie’s house, and I consciously chose a combination of women that were both my good friends and those whom I admired as being strong voices in my community. A few of them, I only knew as acquaintances. I called on them, as sisters, to surround me with a higher level of strength and solidarity. I collected the group of women around me that I would need to call on in the following weeks and months postpartum. There was a completely different energy surrounding this blessing. It was empowering, uplifting, funny and supportive. It was everything that I needed, going into this birth experience.

The days rolled by and I felt so great in my body. So light and energetic, limber and strong. I knew that my belly was smaller than it was with both Szerafina and Sage, but that didn’t worry me. I ate lightly because I didn’t move much, being stuck inside due to the ice and snow. I had an amazing friend who took care of Szerafina sometimes during the week and also made a film of my birth and postpartum period. ‘Renalda’ was amazing. Her bright and cheery disposition was everything I needed. She often came over in the evenings to keep me company and let me cry freely, never letting me feel ashamed or uncomfortable for expressing my emotions. JP’s team was in the playoffs and there was a good chance that he’d win that year, meaning that he wouldn’t return home to us until the end of April. I was convinced that I’d give birth on or around his birthday, March 3, 2015. I secretly always wondered what it would be like to birth in the company of only women…I imagined a cozy haven of warmth…

The night before my birth process began, I was talking to a friend on the phone bragging about the abundant energy I was experiencing. I’m going to be pregnant forever! I laughed. I was staying up late into the night, which was a rare thing for me as I really enjoy going to sleep early. I had no indication whatsoever that I would be holding a baby in my arms the next night. I even talked to Vivianne who was going to attend another birth and was checking in with me to see how I felt. “Amazing!” I said, “go ahead and don’t worry about me.” Looking back, my bedtime routine was a little different and certainly gave me an indication that something was up. I usually don’t wear makeup, but on this night I crept downstairs to slice up beetroot to dab on my cheeks and lips. I was doing this in the mirror in the bathroom upstairs and I felt a little silly, but I relished in this girlish indulgence. I crawled into bed beside Szerafina and went to sleep. I awoke the next morning to dull sensations, something similar to braxton hicks that were rhythmic and continuous.

I panicked a little. I wasn’t ready!! My house was messy and my friend was coming to tidy up my dreadlocks and I just plain wasn’t prepared yet. I called JP and he said something that annoyed me, which should have tipped me off right then. I called Vivianne next and she said to see how my morning progressed and to call back at lunch hour. Renalda came to take Szerafina for a few hours while I sat in my living room getting my hair done. It was a really lovely way to pass this early phase of labour. I was still in denial, asking her to stop working so that I could go to the washroom multiple times. I was emptying my bowels and passing some mucous.

Maggie arrived around 2pm as I was on the living room floor on my hands and knees, still not really believing that this was ‘it’. ‘Oh! You really are in labour!’ she exclaimed, probably because I was so non committal to her on the phone. Slowly a few of my close friends came by, offered massage, began cooking, filling up the birth pool, and puttered around in a quiet haze around me. Like an elephant in labour, I felt the safety and security of my women creating the outer circle yet giving me lots of space to feel unobserved.

**

Fully embracing my sensuality in the soft light of the blue winter dusk, I rocked and undulated in the warm water of the birth pool, holding tight to the firm inner handles. In between sensations I lifted myself up over the rounded edge, allowing my back and shoulders to breath, and the weight of my body to be supported by the warm cocoon. When I felt the ocean wave coming to sweep me clear of thought and tumble me deep into the depths of birth’s lair, I’d sink low and deep into my squat, moaning with a pleasurable knowing. This rhythm was strong and good, deep and sublime.

From the far corners of my subconscious I sensed my sisters floating around the periphery of my space, like faery godmothers keeping busy with important worldly things that I needed not think about, and protecting the sanctity of our cosmic dimension and altered state of consciousness. It felt as if there was a magic spell enveloping my whole house, so that anyone passing by on the icy streets was made to not even look in our direction. Inside, everything glowed and sparkled with peaceful warmth. Light whispering, giggles, nursing baby and the heavy feet of my five year old princess pacing her way delightfully from my birthing lair to the women’s circle downstairs.

Aware of the pressure building in my exquisite body, I delicately reached my fingers into the familiar space of my yoni, feeling as I have so many times before. I only made it a tiny way in, before the tips of my fingers were electrified by the bulge of the cull of waters and my baby’s head within it. What encouragement and strength I gathered from this simple touch, as if my baby transmuted a force field of energy right through me, directly into my veins and into the depths of my very soul.

I looked up at my wise woman and firmly declared what I knew. “She’s right here! Her head. I think. Come and check, too.” Feel what I feel, confirm I am not dreaming, I gift you with a spark of electricity. She nodded her head. She smiled. She lay sweetly on the bed before me to nurse her 3 weeks old baby to sleep. I looked up at my other woman, caressing my back as a lover would, fully enthralled and committed to me. Every touch saying, “that’s right…go deeper…yes…that’s right…let it go.”

I rose with the next crescendo of energy moving through my body, lifted my torso out of the water and came to my knees, allowing my head to roll back as I give the gentle push and shift that I knew was needed to release the blessed waters that enveloped my child. The pressure gave with a great rise in pleasurable intensity, a loud and affirming ‘YESSSSS!’ escaped my lips. She’s coming, I’m coming, it’s all coming, this cosmic being is being birthed into reality after months of prayer, turmoil, fear, joy and the entire melting pot that it is to carry life. I completely surrendered with the final surge that took me away while my body burst open to allow this gorgeous creature to swim free.

‘God HELP me!’ I yell, for she is ALIVE and I can feel her vitality and life force electrify me, and I am in a peaked state of utter bliss and power.

I gently lifted my daughter out of the water and held her to my breast. She looked up at me, eyes wide open, as blue and vast as the oceans of my heart. My 5 year old daughter exclaimed, ‘A sister! It’s what I wanted!’ with pure, giddy excitement.

And so she came to be, a symbol of power and might, of all that it means to be feminine and strong.