I can't sleep.

It's nearly 12am and here I sit. Holdyn is asleep beside me after a long time of getting him to sleep. He is teething, and it seems to be effecting his going to sleep as easy as he had been. Even "wearing him down" to sleep takes some time. Alas, he sleeps.

So, my brain is fixated on the birth of a new baby, a baby born at home. A baby who safely made it's way into the world without the use of intervention, without the use of a sharp knife because it's life was in danger.

I am not going to hold back. I am jealous, and I am sad. I am trying very hard to just be happy that this baby lived, and happy that this family is not having to live in the dark shadows that we lived in (and that still linger, even though you can't tell by looking at me).

The truth is that I am terrified for any family that I may know, or hear of that is considering having their baby at home. How can I not be right? At the same time, it is not my place to say anything, but I can write about my terror here. I can pour it all out here onto this page for you to read all about how it feels to have your innocent little baby die, and specifically perhaps because of homebirth.

There is also something else that I hadn't really thought about too much because maybe I have tried to turn a blind eye is the way other new mothers see me. If they don't already know about my dead child and they find out are they then cautious of me? Does it make them uncomfortable every time I talk about my daughter and how she died (the circumstances that may very well caused her death?). Am I too bold to speak out against homebirth? Seriously, can you blame me? I don't give a fuck if I scare people with what I have to say about this. I am eternally pissed off that my child is dead perhaps because of this fucking decision that I made. I know that I have gone off here about this before, oh well, I don't fucking care! Here it is again, the shit that is the baggage that I will carry with me until my time comes.

Here is what homebirth looks like to me:

Homebirth = Emergency C-section = Dead baby.

OR

Homebirth = Death.


Perhaps some might think me crazy, you know, I'm that woman who's baby died. Who still talks about her dead baby all the time, and it's weird.

Maybe I am a little crazy, but who wouldn't be after having their baby die? Just because more than 2 years has gone by doesn't mean that I am healed of her death. It doesn't mean that I stop thinking about her and what happened, no, the pain is less but I carry it with me ALWAYS. The pain is ALWAYS there, it lingers and hovers over me and continues to entangle itself around my heart.

I am forever mama of a dead baby, a babylost mama.

Yes, I am that mother, the one who thought she made a wholesome "choice"...and now I am the women who every time I hear of a "successful" birth at home I feel as though I have been slapped in the face. I can't help this, it is just how I am reacting. It's just hard to hear the news, it makes me feel a lot like "I am the only one" who's birth ended in tragedy. It's defeating and it hurts. The jealously mixes with anger and I feel like I could explode.

Still I am thankful for those who "succeed" and have a living child. I think they are the lucky ones, and I only hope that they realize really and truly how lucky they are, and how easily it could all be so very different.

It is very hard for me to not speak my mind when it comes to most things. Ever since I met I.na M.ay at the conference in May, and heard her speak about you know what I have been feeling a sense of anger, but also jealousy.

I cannot deny that every time I hear of a "successful" homebirth that I piece of me feels jealous, and also a little hurt.

If only I could just be OK, with the fact that just because the world stopped for us when our "homebirth" ended in tradgedy, that for many others the world has gone on and so many other babies are not dying as a result of a choice.

It's just not that simple for me. Still, I sit here, feeling jealous, envious and my heart hurting for those that I know who have had the luck to succeed in the births of their children at home.

Am I being hypocritical? I don't think so...but so much was stolen from me because of what happened to Birdie.

Not only did I lose my child, I lost my innocence, I lost who I used to be, I lost my ability to trust my body (for a time), I lost my heart, I lost my soul.

I feel heavy today, heavy with loss, heavy with sadness and although I DO NOT regret the manner in which my beautiful miracle baby was born...I do feel a little sad that I will never know what it is to push a baby out of my body.


I am sad, I am angry and I am MAD AS HELL that my baby girl is not here.

Then there is he, who is asleep beside me, quietly breathing...in and out...in and out. His heart beats, his chest rises and falls, he is here, he is alive.

My Nearly 9 Month Old Miracle (Part 1)

There are really and truly no words to express how deeply I love my son.

Since the day of his birth, I have been blessed to spend and every hour of every day with Holdyn. To be able to witness his life in every moment is something that I cherish so very deeply. To be a constant witness to his milestones, and to the simple nature that is he is, this is all I want from life right now. I have been given this beautiful gift, this miracle, this sweet and already empathetic child and I cannot even think to be without him for more than a few minutes. (might sound hard to believe to some, but I just can't get to that place that says it's OK to leave him for an hour or 2)

Everyday is such a blessing. Everyday, I awake to my son beside me...to his bright, beaming beautiful smile that says, hello Mama!

Sweet, sweet Holdyn.

His personality is strong. A very serious boy, a very tender boy, a happy little boy who gently rests his hand upon my breast as he nurses. He is just so beautiful, I am so damn smitten with him that it makes me cry.

He is my light, he is my guide. This little child of mine is guiding my new path in life. He guides my way as his Mama and friend.

I love being able to watch his delight in life. He loves nature, trees, flowers...birds. I am proud to share in his fondness of these things. I hope that the wonder of nature to be an ever present and continuous interest in is life.

Sweet, sweet Holdyn.
My dear son, I love you so very very much.

Holdyn is ON THE MOVE!!!

At just about 8 1/2 months old, Holdyn is on the move. He is nearly crawling now, as you will see in these pictures.

12 Copies Of "Your Best Birth".....or A Giant Bitch Slap To My Face.



I have much to say about this (right now Holdyn is sleeping in the sling so I can't type too much), for now I just had to post that I mysteriously received 12 copies of "Your Best Birth" in the mail today...why? I have no clue. I will tell you though, it feels like a giant slap in the face, 12 times over.

Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth
Your Best Birth


OUCH!!! That fucking hurts!!!

I don't (personally or via blogging) know who the sender is (though I know what her name is, and what her address is via the packing slip) or why these were sent to me. I don't know what to do with them. I could read the book right? I know it will make me angry, so I don't think I want to go there.

By the way, there is no chapter about stillbirth via homebirth.

AND how did this person get my mailing address?

My Beautiful Boys

Photo Essay