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As I was licking my birth wounds four days ago and remembering the twin birth of one of my clients I got to read this facebook update about twins born at home two days apart:

Hellena Post: Just had the most intense 3 day physical, emotional, spiritual, transformative, learning experience of my life. Birthing twin boys – Maximillian Hercules on Sat. 21 at 9.25am, then staying in labour on and off while nursing a newborn, till Merlin Redbad was born on Monday 23 at 4.05am…two unique boys, with different birthdays, different looks, and totally separate births…”

How AWESOME is this?! You don’t hear things like that! Ever! I hear of homeborn twins but 2 DAYS APART? Wow! That just blows my thresholds right there.  Hellena Post’s birth was in Australia and was attended by the Australian goddess of home breach births and a home-birth midwife warrior Lisa Barrett.

I remember asking my twin client if she knows her doc’s policy on twin births, specifically how long does she have to birth twin B on her own before the OB will start mucking things up. I wonder what he would say to this birth story. But … not really. I don’t really care what he would say. Because he does not provide a sound advice anyway.

Thank goodness for my community and specifically the on-line community. We women love to share and network and I am so thankful that we women-folk can access what we need when we need it.


Sometimes I think that doulas have the worst job out there. Thankfully that does not happen too often. I LOVE the work I do and it is a greatest honour to share in that special moment. It is also a humbling experience. I know I have it in my blood and everything around me is saturated with pregnancy/birth/breastfeeding. But sometimes, and the past week I had been thinking this, I don’t understand my job and grow frustrated.  And as this feeling peaked I came across this awesome video of a baby being born in the caul (in the amniotic sac, in the membranes, in the bag of waters, behind the veil, etc) IN WATER! How cool!!

It was made even cooler as I just came from a hospital birth where the OB AROMed my client, the birthing woman. Just before the procedure she expressed some reservations about the intervention. The OB replied that the membranes will have to break at some point before the baby is born so why not do it now to get things going, to which I replied that they don’t have to break at all and that baby can be born in the sac without the AROM-associated risks. After some debate the woman chose to have her membranes ruptured (AROM). She ran up a fever and had to be put on antibiotics few hours later.

I learned from the Navalgazing Midwife Barbara Herrera about birth in the caul and that the amniotic membranes, just like newborn boys’ amputated foreskins, stolen from their rightful owners (“donated” by omission in most cases), are a) used as a grafting tissue (truly thank you for that) and b) sold to cosmetic and big pharma industry to do what they want with it (no thanks there).

It can be quite disheartening seeing the birth rape and coercion women willingly subject themselves to, and feeling that I am not doing enough). Maybe I am feeling a bit too depressed right now with all the crap happening in my life and major life changes swirling around me tugging and pulling in all sorts of directions. I don’t know why women want to hire a birth professional to guide them on their journey through pregnancy and birth so they can NOT listen to a word that the professional says, and be surprised that they ended up with a c-section when they let the doc induce at 40wk GA and have pit and epi through out the labour.

But I should know. I was one of those women, sort of. Not once, but twice, except it was reversed.

When I was pregnant for the first time I hired a midwife who fought with me through out our prenatals. Patronized me in early birthing, interrupted my birth at the end and I had trouble birthing the placenta, and did not believe me in postpartum about breastfeeding being slightly off. I felt unsupported and not heard through out my pregnancy and postpartum.

When I was pregnant for the second time I hired a different midwife. I felt good during my prenatals and felt no pressure to do any tests and my autonomy was not questioned once, though the intended use of a doppler by my midwife during the birth was a concern for me. The birth was very different. After every contraction I was interrupted by talking, cellphones, dishes falling, door bells, testing of equipment, and requests to do vaginal exams that I had to turn down three times. Again, as my son was visibly being born the anxiety and anticipation in the people around me increased, they started shuffling things around, unzipping this and that, setting up the other, and I felt my birthing to be interrupted even more. I felt no urge to push the placenta again but this time I had to have it manually removed in a hospital.

I knew what i wanted from before I was pregnant. I knew how my body worked and my psyche. I knew how birth worked and how I was going to get it right. I did not listen to myself and surrounded myself with people that were not willing to go the distance for my birth because I wanted to ‘keep peace’ and appease my husband.

What is about women wrecking their first birth so they can finally have the third birth the way they want to, and that is not measured by the ‘outcome’ but rather by the MOTHER’s feeling of satisfaction with the process and the whole experience, and feeling that she is the most powerful woman walking on Earth and that she can do ANYTHING? Even Gloria Lemay blogs about it here.

We had Soo much fun on Sunday!!! Where you ask? Doing what?….

My son LOVES blueberries. He can eat them every day, bowl-fulls. This morning we had some blueberries topped with mascarpone whipped wit maple syrup. Than we had … more blueberries – on their own. Then, english muffins with … cries for more blueberries. 😀 I asked what the kids want for lunch … more blueberries. Two days of eating mainly blueberries and I really think they will start turning into giant blue berries by the end of the day.

Yesterday we spent the day blueberry picking. My dear friend Mandy invited us to her Mom’s blueberry farm for a day of family picking. Julie’s farm is located in Port Coquitlam, easy fifteen- or twenty-minute drive from Burnaby. I invited a few of my friends and some homeschooling families to tag along.

We got to Julie’s farm at noon and the weather was perfect … cloudy and on the chilly side. I let the kids loose to play in the large grassy area. Right away, ABoy found the largest sticks in PoCo and started slaying the local dragons. When I told him we were at a blueberry farm where the bushes were bending to the ground with the weight of the biggest juiciest berries he would ever see … he left the local population to deal with the fiery beasts on their own and started stuffing his mouth with the sweet blues.

I was amazed to see that some of the four-year olds as well as eight-year olds were doing really well filling up their parents folks. I was less impressed with my demands onto my children to start earning their keep. KGirl informed me that she is too busy doing her work. I asked what that might be and she said … “being a kid, so playing is my work.” She was in heaven with her accomplices around. The guilty parties: Lela and Makonnen, Andrew and Isabel, Megan and Linus, and of course ABoy. Alas, after they dined on the blueberries they were off to chase hummingbirds and dragonflies and play hide and seek in the jungle.

story time at Richard's

Andrew reading to Kaia and Lela while patiently waiting for sushi.

The sun came up and I started to sweat. I also became quite aware that I picked the low bushes and not the tall ones. I am quite tall for those of you who don’t know me. My back was really sore. But, I managed to pick 15 pounds of berries on my own, over some spillage and two thieving monkeys.

My friend Jane brought home-made sushi, cut into perfect size for the kids to share. Margaret made yummy vegan chocolate chip banana mini muffins, and I … just mixed some cashews with dried currants and raw cocoa nibs, and glued it together with maple syrup. Of course we all finished it with a healthy dose of … blueberries. 🙂

Julie hung out with us and was very attentive as a hostess. She even offered to feed us! Which we politely declined as to not put more strain on her household. It was enough that we over-ran her house. 🙂

We topped the loot with a dozen of free-range eggs from the next door house.

I am looking forward to the next time. I hope there will be at least one more time this summer.

I really highly recommend this little farm. Julie rocks.

Thanks to Julie and Mandy, Adam and Jane, Margaret and Frank, Nicole, and Cindy. And of course to all the kids. It was a blast.

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