Kyla May’s Free Birthfeatured
Pregnancy was surreal for me. I found out I was pregnant on Mother’s Day at the age of 24. Not fully understanding the reality of what precautions I needed to be mindful of, two weeks into pregnancy I was still riding bikes on mountain trails until I took a spill, luckily only inflicting my legs and palms of my hands with bad scrapes. That’s what brought the reality of “protector of incubating life” into focus.
Taking pregnancy more seriously, I stopped smoking cannabis, the occasional tobacco, glass of wine, or sips of mescal. Lapidary work and electroplating copper were put on hold because of the toxic fumes I may be exposing myself to. Awareness of the effect my environment could have on me grew further after diving deeper into exercise, stretching, and breath work. Forfeiting coffee, instead indulging in a daily chocolate drink concoction and herbal teas, helped me to nurture myself. Having been hyper aware of nutrition for some years, as my needs changed I began aligning with what I felt. My intuition was stronger than ever.
Nutrition became my number one intuitive experiment. If I noticed that my clarity of mind, or energy levels, or anything at all was changing in my physical state, I would weigh my diet and consider what should be added or removed. Following making a decision on something that needed to change, I did research to see if my feelings were right. They always were. Of course, this research opened up many new insights to the physical changes my body would be making for the next 10+ months, throughout the journey of pregnancy and postpartum.
Intuition was my guide. It always had been a deciding factor in my day-to-day life but now I really trusted it. Following what I felt when it came to my physical nourishment did me good. So, I trusted my intuition and made decisions purely on its guidance time and time again throughout my pregnancy; making time for my feelings and their needs too. A born multitasker, I am one to have “many irons in the fire”, but now I had to listen to my body’s intuition when I was more tired than I “should be” at the end of the day keeping up with “my normal”. Making the change of throwing a mandatory bath in the mix a couple times per week, created the space to make time for conscious relaxation and connection with my mind, body, (and growing baby).
One month later, on Father’s Day, my partner sliced his pinky open, severing the tendons. The next few weeks were filled with multiple three-hour round-trips to and from Santa Fe to meet with his surgeon and subsequent checkups post surgery. Complications arose, followed by another surgery and prolonged physical therapy. The responsibility of tending to my partner, cleaning the house, cooking meals, running errands, and paying the bills fell solely on my shoulders for the next five months. Having no time for myself anymore, intuition guided me to start waking up before the sunrise for personal hours of meditation and journaling, which kept me sane.
When I experienced an exaggerated emotional response to an assumed situation, I had to check myself. Honoring how I felt, time was taken to connect with where my feelings stemmed from, accepting the responsibility if I traced the emotional outburst back to my own unsettled needs. Snapping at my partner because I felt annoyed at the inability to find “peace and quiet” when he was “asking too many questions” was due to an imbalance within myself, not because he actually did or said anything offensive. A foggy mind, explosive emotions and an unexpected feeling of true disturbance, something within me needed to be addressed. Moments like those made me slow down, yet again, and dive deeper into my body’s knowing. I was no longer in balance, hormones maybe? How could I balance them and find peace again…
Meanwhile, my job as a sales clerk in a crystal shop kept me tethered to reality. Crystals at my disposal to study and meditate with and social interactions provided an escape from my responsibilities allowing me to “ground” myself. As my belly grew larger, so did my discomfort in being on my feet for prolonged periods of time. Luckily for me, the owners of the crystal shop approached me about building them a website, and I had the experience to help them. Handed a laptop and a support bubble, what started as a part-time endeavor between customer interactions at the shop, turned into a full-time web-development position in my own office at the crystal back-stock warehouse, later transitioning to working from home which I maintain doing to this day. “Grateful” only begins to describe the appreciation I have for their support during this pivotal time in my life.
For months I didn’t do research about the actual act of giving birth. Not even really think about it, absolutely “in-the-now” about bringing balance and harmony to my body as it was in constant flux creating this new human being, and to my mind as I managed multiple disciplines. But then my partner asked me about it, and I didn’t know what to say. Contemplating it, the feeling of my body’s strength was overpowering. My body was physically made to do “this thing”. Thoughts in my head encouraged that since I was maintaining balance within, I could maintain balance without as that moment came. My intuition was strong, my confidence was strong, and my body was strong. My body knew what to do. I just felt it. But I couldn’t explain it…
Doing my best to explain how I was feeling to my partner, I came to realize that he saw what I was feeling in the expressions on my face more than my words were making sense. Finally I admitted to him that I didn’t want to go to the hospital and that I wanted to have a home birth. He felt me and he knew it had to be and he was fully supportive. We soon reached out to the local midwifery and sat down with three midwives, bombarding them with questions… They were warm-spirited and bubbly but definitely had an idea of what a “right” birth looked like, and I just remember leaving with the feeling that their suggestions for nutrition were things I was either already doing or it didn’t align with how I felt. With nutritional intuition being my newfound strength, it wasn’t practical for me to accept their help. Long story short I couldn’t rationalize spending so much money to be told that my instincts were right.
Searching for a different path, I began researching. Being new to town, with no family and not too many friends because I primarily function in town as an introvert workaholic, I didn’t have many people to lean on or compare stories with. Not feeling totally in sync with the midwives I had met, I made an appointment at the local woman’s health clinic. With strong feelings that I may not find someone I feel comfortable with to be my midwife and already about 5 months along, I went in to get a checkup on our progress. Hearing my baby’s heartbeat projected loudly on a speaker was breath-taking, humming along so strongly. Shortly after, leaving with a referral to the main hospital for an ultrasound and some awkward feelings from having fingers shoved into my vagina. “It’s procedure to make sure all is well”. I shrugged it off and went to get the ultrasound. All was perfect.
Unconsciously haven given up on finding a midwife I followed up with two more checkups at the Women’s clinic. Each time I waited four times longer in the waiting room than I spent in the exam room, and each time I left feeling like I wasn’t getting any info; they just kept taking notes. About 7 months along now, I had another ultrasound (even though I felt it would be harmful, I felt the risk of potentially missing some complications early on could outweigh the short ultrasound) and had the technician print out my baby’s gender and put it in an envelope. With conflicting feelings of wanting to be surprised by the gender, but not totally sure, I had her print it out. The little sealed envelope was put into a cupboard in my house, just to taunt me, for the remainder of my pregnancy (no, I never caved!!!). A few weeks later I went back for another checkup at the women’s health center and waited almost 40 minutes in the waiting room before saying “wtf am I doing” under my breath and leaving. No help there…
Using any and all leads, I reached out to a highly recommended midwife and invited her over for a consultation with my partner and I. It went well, but again, she had a clear vision of how birth should look, and came with a package of precautions she was by law required to follow and a timeline projected for a “healthy birth” that just didn’t settle well with me. My intuition talked me out of it and so did the price tag, so I never followed up with her. Completely understanding that midwifery is a career and pays the bills, I tried to justify the prices, but in the back of my mind I couldn’t shake the feeling that birthing my baby shouldn’t cost so much money.
Broaching the subject of free-birth with my partner, he came to a hesitant and obviously worried agreement to support my decision. With my due date in January and our home up in the snowy mountains it would be at least a 40 minute drive to the nearest hospital. I knew the risks. I also knew how I felt about sharing such a profoundly intimate moment with someone whom I didn’t know and whom didn’t know me, and having them tell me how to move through it. Strong opposition to the idea screamed in my cells. We did all the research and then some. What happens inside the body as the birth process happens, the stages of birth, the risks and complications, postpartum precautions and placenta birth, cord separation, the medications, the alter indications, to the stretches and alternative DIY everything. Ordering my birthing tub was the officiating action, (and fairy lights, of course, because putting them in-between the tub and liner made it such a dreamscape).
After months of research, the only comforting bit of information I stumbled across throughout the internet was a video documentary of a woman having a free-birth, with the intention of “orgasmic” birthing, which introduced me to the concept. Just reading and listening to a story of an empowered woman believing in a pain-free birth, doing what her intuition told her to do and seeing that it worked out for her not once, but FOUR times (despite complications with every birth) really gave me confidence. Trust in my intuition was so profound by then that I knew I could do it. I could trust my body; knowing all I had to do was have the mental strength to stay relaxed and release into my body’s signals and involuntary movements. That’s all the research I did, I was ready.
Eight months pregnant, getting any sleep was an outright accomplishment! Not being able to sleep on my stomach or my back, my hips would hurt so bad. With the weight of my belly pressing in on me, even with the big cloud of snake- pillow propping me up in every which way, I would wake up every couple hours to something going numb and the tingling fire devouring my hips and lower back. My intuition told me to do lots of yoga and smoke some cannabis before bed for the pain and to help me sleep. So, after reading several concise studies on cannabis and fetal development, the medicine helped me through that last month’s nights, undoubtedly.
One morning I woke up and just knew, contractions were starting. Staying in bed, my wonderful husband brought me the most epic smorgasbord of snacks ever. Knowing it would still be a while, I asked for books, books and more books before sending hubby off to work with not-so-subtle insistence. When he got home I came downstairs and sat on my yoga ball to stretch whatever felt like needed it, meantime lots of movement was going on in my belly. He blew up the birth tub, set up the fairy lights, fixed the liner and even rigged up a “handle” out of Romex wire (scraps from his job as an electrician) from an overhead viga, ironically resembling a noose for me to use. While filling up the tub (slowly but surely) we blessed the space and set our intentions, calling in my ancestors to provide support and love. Sunset. Darkness. Contractions are now strong, but irregular. We decided I should rest in a bath and I dumped all the dried roses into it that had I managed to collect over the growing season. After lightning candles and an incense, then intentionally surrounding the tub with my favorite crystals, I got in the bath and enjoyed the last sweet intimate silence with my baby belly. Feeling tranquil and comfortable, I literally fell asleep so relaxed.
Hours must have passed because I woke up in lukewarm water. Getting out was a slow process but when I finally got out and up, WOW that next contraction was so much stronger than the last I had consciously experienced. Has my water broken? Idk. Walking into the living room/ birthing room, admiring my giant belly and mentally thanking hubby for getting the fire rolling so strongly, I looked over at my lover passed out on the couch. He deserved it, I let him sleep figuring he’d wake up soon enough when I started getting louder with the contractions. Setting myself up on some towels and propping myself up with pillows, the time passed. Soon that’s exactly what happened, he woke up to me really feeling the strong and frequent contractions and he helped me transition to the birthing tub.
On all fours, I just surrendered and released into the contractions. Hubby has great taste in music and proved to be an excellent DJ, setting the mood with a wonderful background playlist. He helped me calm my breathing and made sure I was comfortable, getting me water to drink and a cool towel on my neck (by now the house was about 80 degrees although it was in the teens outside or possibly colder for all I was aware of). Breathe, release, breathe, release. I felt the head, but it was smooth and felt like a bubble…I slightly panicked and pushed, FINALLY, my WATER BROKE!! (This is the only part I regret, forcing that moment sooner than needed, for my baby could have been born in the water bubble-amniotic sac!!) Okay, so it wasn’t the head… Relief washed over me that the squishy thing I felt wasn’t my baby’s head. This overwhelming feeling of relief brought my awareness to my mental state. Forcing a smile and refocusing on my breath, I slowed my heart rate. I could feel the head crowning now, more of the soft flesh revealed in unison with the growing pain of the experience.
Many moments crossed where I felt I couldn’t do this and actually exclaimed such things, but hubby kept saying you can, you’ve got to, reassuring what I really already knew. But my, how it hurt. I could tell he was terrified at how this could end up, but calm and patient nonetheless, likely by necessity so as to not ruin me. He said he could see the head, and see hair now. I reached and surely felt this. He was anxious to catch the baby, something we had anticipated, but rather insisted I do it, encouraging me of how far I’d already come in my strength. With a final push I did just that, I couldn’t believe it, I had transcended a barrier of the physical and the spiritual, coming back into my body now with a tiny life in hand, slowly, silently, rolling over into a seated position in my holy tub of Amrita. Settling into place this tiny life began crawling up my body ever so delicately. All was still. Time had stopped save for the space in our birthing waters. Hubby swears still he saw milk roll off of my breast as I began again to breathe and this Tiny Life mustered his first few gasps of breath himself. “It has a penis!! Honey, It’s a boy!! WE have a boy!” Hubby exclaimed in a loud whisper.
The clock had begun ticking again and Theodor, nameless and mysterious then, released his first cry, the most delicate voice of the angels imaginable. Our keeper of time, our beloved dog Cronos, barked the most sentimental sound, both in defense and curious love for what was going on behind the mysterious curtain now blocking him from his normal bedroom. Thank goodness hubby thought to take pictures!
Ten minutes later, okay how about that placenta. Hubby helped me back over to a fresh bathtub so I could relax, holding my new little guy. Just lying there comfortable for a while, mesmerized looking at my little alien, so exhausted. Thirty minutes or so pass and hubby gently reminded me “placenta”, so I got up on my knees and gave one push – woosh, tub full of blood and placenta out!! Yay. (I really feel like that thirty minutes, sitting peacefully still, helped it detach naturally). Okay, it was a lot of blood, but it was in a tub of water so it probably looked worse than it was. Looking down into the tub I was shocked by how large this organ was, but even more astonishing was that the cord between baby boy and the placenta was literally a foot long. We were so connected I was stunned. Putting the placenta into a glass bowl, my ghost of a husband with his flushed face and concerned mind, carefully walked me back into the living room. We sat down and prepared to separate the cord.
Waiting until the cord turned completely white and gray, we just sat there in admiration (and acute concerned observation on hubby’s part) as I got the hang of suckling new babe. Baby was a natural, but also new to the concept so I kept having to “re-introduce” the boob. With all the many methods of separating the umbilical cord, I had chosen the method of “cord burning”. First I carefully tied the little crochet bumblebee cord tie that my thoughtful mother-in-law sent to us around the cord about two maybe three inches from baby’s belly (it dries up and falls off naturally). Next, having prepared a piece of cardboard wrapped in aluminum foil to act as the barrier between baby and flame, we placed it on the other side of the cord tie and patiently together held candle flames to the cord on the placenta side for over twenty minutes, in awe of the peaceful separation.
What an experience, we were glowing in the aftershock of the moment and proceeded to fall asleep cuddling on the couch together, dog and cat too, the whole family. It felt so good. Cuddling the tiniest, 6lb cutie was the sweetest thing I’ve ever had the honor of sharing with another soul.
Theodor Ezra Cannon, was born during the perihelion, and his unfolding personality made me reflect back on that fact many times.
The next couple weeks I barely put him down to do anything, even carrying him around like a little bundled football when I had to cook for myself after hubby went back to work (he was so tiny it was easy). Gratitude again washed over our family when some friends visited, blessing us with some baby accessories and some prepared meals to ease our burden of newfound responsibility. The continued support we received from extended family was pretty overwhelming, due in a large part to receiving so many packages because everyone was out of town.
Only two weeks after Theo was born, COVID-19 pandemic began. Trying to socialize and connect with other families has been a radically different and isolating experience for us, yet we have been blessed to have maintained a pretty small circle of friend families despite the times. With the pandemic, it didn’t feel right to take my delicate little being to the hospital for a checkup, and those feelings were reinforced by my experience with the Women’s health center. Little man has yet to see a doctor and he is now two years old. We have been monitoring his growth with loving eyes and promoting his progression gently, although he moves mountains in his own will. We are leaning towards “unschooling” or as we like to call it because we aren’t anti institutional “free schooling”.
In retrospect, many risks were taken. Some very foolish, such as the fact we were alone up in the snowy mountains closer to probably 50 minutes away from the nearest hospital. Also, I would never do that to my husband again, putting the weight on him to be the sole witness or helping hand in the event that a life-threatening complication did arise. For him, next time (if it happens) I would put up with having a medically trained body in the vicinity, or rent a place close to the hospital.
All in all. We are so happy and blessed with that miraculous experience and memorable bonding we enjoyed in a pure and tender place, just our little family.
I am sharing my account of my experience of pregnancy and free-birth so that women and families out there have more first person birth stories to pull information from. I know I appreciated it when I was pregnant and curious. Trust your intuition ladies, whatever it may be telling you.
Much love,
Kyla May Cannon
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