Arriving in our own way

Olivia's birth story started nine years ago when her brother was born. Going to the hospital young, uneducated and scared, I ended up with a very medical birth that bore very little resemblance to the natural birth I had hoped for.

Five years later Lily was born. I returned to the hospital with better ideas of how to achieve a drug-free birth as well as a solid support team made up of my husband and a doula friend. My body wanted to birth my baby at home and kept stalling out in hospital so I ended up being augmented with pitocin. I had a blissful birth free of pain medication and felt that I had lived the experience I had been missing five years earlier.

Four years further down the road we welcomed another baby into our lives. As her little body grew inside mine, I felt an intense need for privacy. Having developed a network of friends who had freebirthed their babies, I knew that my options for this baby's birth were a homebirth with a midwife in attendance or a freebirth. As I struggled to make a firm statement that I wanted to choose an unassisted birth, I contemplated entering the care of a midwife “just in case” but I felt a strong aversion to being measured or tested in any way. Eventually I came to the realization that baby and I wanted to be left alone and I honored that message.

My pregnancy rolled along as all pregnancies do. I delighted in the growth of my baby as I measured the height of my fundus, tracked my blood pressure, and talked with my baby about our lives. I had help from friends locating my baby's heartbeat with a fetoscope and briefly with a doppler. I also asked for their help in determining my baby's position and I spent many hours playing “Guess that bump”. I had some concerns about baby's positioning but I kept telling myself that I was just worried for nothing.

I spoke with some people about our plans for a freebirth and with other people I glossed over the details, telling them only that we were planning to birth at home. I knew what our path was and I didn't feel the need to pull opposing opinions into my life. Instead I read unassisted birth stories and spent time with my friends who had freebirthed their babies, filling my heart with reminders of how wise women's bodies are.

Late in my third trimester, the pregnancy seemed to drag on and on. I felt huge, tired, and incredibly achy. As my due date loomed, I started tuning out the outside world and hiding out at home. One day I was so frustrated with the well-meaning phone calls of friends checking in on me that I put a towel over the phone and warned Liam that I would only be taking calls from him and my mother for the remainder of the pregnancy!

My due date came and went, and still I was pregnant. I frequently had contractions in the evening and I would go to bed hoping to be woken a few hours later by real labour, but I would wake up frustrated and still pregnant the next morning. I went for a couple of acupuncture appointments to see if I could nudge labour into starting. I left the appointments filled with an inner calm, and although they never triggered labour I was grateful for the readiness they created within me.

On July 20^th, thirteen days after my due date, I woke up from a night of sleep broken by random contractions that had been somewhat building since the evening before. I told Liam that he had better stay home from work that day. I was expecting to have a quick birth and I was worried that his 30 minute bike commute would put him too far away if this was the big day.

The morning was filled with sporadic contractions. Sometimes they were 15 minutes apart, sometimes 45. I kept questioning if this was the real deal or not. The four of us went out for a walk around the block to see if I could get things to really kick in and although I had to stop walking through a few contractions, I still came home in much the same state as I'd left.

Around lunch time, I called my friend Arie for an emotional pick-me-up. I had a chance to vent my fears and frustrations and Arie gave me some suggestions on what I could try next. During our conversation I laughed for the first time that day and although I hadn't had any contractions at all during the phone call I felt I was in a much better place when I hung up the phone

I pulled out the peppermint massage oil that my friend Lee-Ann had given me during my Mother's Blessing and I got Liam to give me a neck rub. We put on some upbeat music and the energy of the day seemed to shift. Putting Arie's suggestion to good use, I started doing some stair lunges and I laughed at how ridiculous I looked trying to heave my enormous belly up two step at a time. I also threw back some black and blue cohosh for good measure, switching from the homeopathic remedy I'd been using during the previous days to the herbal tinctures.

The afternoon wore on and soon it was supper time. I'd been eating now and then throughout the day and although I ate some of my supper I couldn't quite deal with eating the entire plate of food. I had to stand and sway for some of the contractions and I was beginning to believe that this was real labour that was going to stick around. I'd never birthed a baby without pitocin before and it took some effort to combat the mindset that maybe I just couldn't make it all the way through this birth thing without some medical nudging.

The time between supper and the kids' bedtime was filled with Lily doing puzzles, Nick reading, me contracting steadily, and Liam dividing his attention between us. During Lily's birth I'd spent virtually all of my contractions hanging off of Liam's neck and dancing with him but I only felt the need to do this a handful of times during Olivia's birth.

Soon it was time for the kids to head to bed. Nick was tucked away without any fuss, but Lily was quite upset that I wasn't able to snuggle in bed with her as usual. Although we'd had many talks about how I might not be able to put her to bed when the baby was ready to be born, she was not at all happy about the change in routine. Liam ended up putting a movie on upstairs for her so I could have some quiet in the kitchen to focus on the birth.

Around 10:30 I was getting pretty uncomfortable and I decided to get into the birthing pool. I'd been trying to hold off so that I didn't get in too early causing things to slow down, but things chugged blessedly along and being in the water was an immense relief. About an hour later, Lily's movie ended and she was back in the kitchen and dangling her arms in the pool while visiting with me. I decided that getting out of the water and putting her to bed would be worth the effort so I could know she was tucked away for the night, so I climbed out of the pool and went to bed with her. I half dozed and had a couple of contractions as Lily quickly fell asleep and then I came back upstairs where I knew I could get seriously underway with this whole birth thing.

From that point, things became more intense. I hung off of Liam during contractions and I started to really vocalize through the intensity. My lower back started becoming quite achy, so I would sit between contractions and then stand and sway when the contractions came. I was getting tired!

Briefly, Liam and I went out onto our deck and stared up at the beautiful night sky. I remembered how intensely I'd wanted to spend my labour with Lily outdoors and I was grateful for the freedoms that a homebirth offered me. After a bit we went back inside to the privacy of our cozy home.

As my contractions became increasingly intense I started to find that I couldn't get comfortable during them or in between them. It was time to get back in the tub! So around 1:30 I climbed back into the beautiful water and found it immediately soothing. For the next hour or so, Liam undertook the seemingly endless job of emptying the cooling water and adding hot water. He and a few cooking pots made many many trips between the sink and the pool.

At this point I was falling asleep between the contractions, something that really helped me to cope. I alternated between sitting in the pool and kneeling with my body draped over the side of the pool. The length and intensity of the contractions continued to grow and during one fleeting moment I questioned my sanity in choosing to birth so far away from pain medications.

I kept waiting and waiting for the feeling of the baby's head descending, like during Lily's birth, so I would know it would be time to push soon. Not having anyone checking my dilation was such a wonderful change from my previous births, and I knew my body was opening at exactly the rate and speed it should.

From seemingly nowhere, I found my body pushing during a contraction when I was hanging over the edge of the pool. I wanted desperately to tell Liam that I was pushing but I couldn't speak until the contraction ended. At the end of the contraction, Liam asked if I'd been pushing and I confirmed that I had indeed. He prepared himself to catch our upcoming arrival. All plans of passively breathing the baby out went out the window as my body forcefully pushed during the next contraction. My baby seemed to go from quite high up to all of a sudden emerging during what I'm assuming was my water breaking.

With one of my hands, I felt the bulge of my baby emerging and I felt the ridge of what I assumed was the amniotic sac still partially over my baby's head. Shortly after, Liam uttered the now-infamous words “That's not a head, that's a bum!” and then “Is that OK?”. I remained calm and knew that I needed to push this baby out quickly so I gave a few more good pushes and out she flew.

Liam caught our baby in the water and scooped her up. As I turned to sit he helped me maneuver around the umbilical cord so that I was sitting in the pool and our little girl was resting on my chest. She was here! Here at last! She was born at 2:45 am on July 21^st.

I held my baby's tiny body and said over and over again “I didn't think you were ever going to come out!”. The labour that seemed like it was going to go on for eternity was suddenly over and my long-awaited baby was birthed.

As we sat in the pool waiting for the placenta my baby nursed for the first time. About 15 minutes after our baby's arrival, I delivered the placenta. We tied off the umbilical cord with a braid of embroidery thread my friends had made for me during my Mother's Blessing and Liam cut the cord.

I climbed out of the pool and took a quick shower to warm up while Liam held our baby, then the three of us sat on the couch in the living room. The baby seemed to be not entirely pleased with this big cold world and her cries were loud in our house. Apparently Nick thought she was quite loud too as he woke up at 3:30 and came upstairs to see this noisy little baby. After he stopped being upset about being awake in the middle of the night, Nick was quite excited to meet his new little sister and he helped Liam and I to decide that she looked very much like an Olivia Margaret Johnstone. He also helped us to weigh her on the fish scale we'd bought and I was surprised to see that she was a whopping 8 lbs 6 oz, much bigger than my other babies who had weighed in just on either side of 7 lbs.

Things settled down after a bit and I started to get tired. Liam went into the basement to sleep with Lily while Olivia and I headed upstairs to our bedroom to sleep for a bit. I climbed into bed and curled around my tiny little baby. I dozed on and off for a couple of hours before I finally admitted that I was to buzzy with hormones and excitement to sleep anymore. I was also so very hungry and thirsty! Olivia and I returned to the living room where we sat and visited with Nick and ate breakfast. Lily woke a little while later and was overjoyed to meet her baby sister. Right away she insisted on holding and snuggling her and telling her just how much she loved her.

And there, in the passing of a night, our family was transformed. The kids fell asleep in a family of four and woke in a family of five. I brought a new life into the world without ever leaving the security and comfort of my home. And Liam and I together helped bring this little life we'd created out into the world.

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It's been just about six months since that day and I've often reflected back on it. Birthing in my home was such a very special experience. I know that following the path of a freebirth allowed me to be open to the intuitive messages from both my baby and my body while allowing Olivia's birth to unfold in a normal and healthy way despite her untraditional presentation. I feel deeply blessed that such a beautiful experience unfolded in the quiet of my kitchen and that my daughter's life was able to start with such a sacred experience.

By Kim Johnstone

Am I A Fierce Mama?

Am I a fierce mama?

Oh, you bet I am. I’ve thought about how hard yet rewarding this whole mothering journey has been. I think about all the pratfalls we’re set up for, all the false expectations of what a mother should want, what a “good baby” is, and how to go about gestating, birthing and raising human beings . . . Instead of warm fuzzy feelings, I am overcome by the deep rumblings of a ferocious and primal womanhood which has had to fight its way past many obstacles.

I am fierce because I never doubted my ability to birth. I’m fierce because I dared to question a routine ultrasound, and when the nurse told me refusing could lead to a dead baby, I told her to get my medical records copied so I could find another provider. Even as a young mother, I was not going to be bullied.

I am fierce because I found myself a midwife and planned a home birth in Midwestern America, where ignorance and persecution keeps most out of hospital births under the radar. I kept my internal flame burning as I threw up every day at work for 6 months until I took an early leave. I kept faith and love in focus as my husband lost his job and we were forced to move to a smaller apartment.

And I survived through a home birth transfer to hospital that tore away my trust for the people who should have been supporting me most. I survived over 50 hours of labor, the latter half an experience of dehumanization, coerced medications, genital mutilation without consent, the near loss of my newborn baby, and the scolding and condescension of the medical professionals surrounding me. I survived the three days before I held my son for the first time. Against pressures to do otherwise, I protected his prepuce and his beautiful, intact body.

I pumped my precious milk every 3 hours until I was ALLOWED to hold him, ALLOWED to nurse him with my own breasts, three days after I pushed him out, after he was immediately severed from me. I survived that week while they poked and prodded and gradually unhooked him from the various life support machines. I remember his defiant swatting at the plastic oxygen hood that masked his face and the precious smug look on his tiny face as they finally removed it.

I am fierce because I never doubted he would be well, and though the doctors were cautious, he did nothing but improve and gain weight. And I took him home, and loved him ferociously . . . partially to make it up to him, to try to heal the wounds of our birth.

For me, those wounds included self-doubt and hatred, undeniable and heart wrenching grief, and later flashbacks and waking nightmares. I did not value sleep as much as I valued the time I spent with him, learning his ways, listening to my deep intuitions as I should have all along. I could not resent him, or mourn a life I used to have because I nearly lost before I ever had him . . . and because a large part of me died in that hospital.

I am fierce because I began to listen to myself and my baby above all other voices. Ignoring my intuitive voice had led me to a sham of a birth which had hurt us both. I set my mind to researching parenting, the evolutionary psychology of birth and childrearing, and I wore my baby in slings and other soft carriers. I nursed him on demand and coslept. We started practicing Elimination Communication as a family. I refused any and all vaccinations for my baby, whose immune system was flawless by design and inexorably tied to our breastfeeding relationship. I could not and would not let my helpless child “cry it out” and lie to myself that it was for his own good, as my mother undoubtedly did to me.

I am fierce beyond belief because, even as my husband remained distant or took to uncontrolled raging fits which left holes in doors, I stood firm. I told him that if he lay a hand in anger on my child or myself, he would know fear. And he listened, and we talked. I am fierce because I recognized the helplessness and fear that our birth and our situation caused in the man who was supposed to be able to protect us, and I told him that it mirrored my own pain and terror . . . and that we could weather this storm together.

I survived the cold and sometimes violent withdrawal of my husband, and I saw him open the door to hope. I would not stand down, and I would not take no for an answer. I did not accept that he did not, and could not, love our baby. I weathered their bonding issues and kept on believing that they could get along and form a close bond. I watched them play together, and saw the day my toddler cried when daddy had leave for work. I am fiercely proud of my family.

I am proud I pushed my son out of my body of my own will and power, under threat of surgical knife. I am fierce because I did not let the subsequent nightmares overtake my life. I slipped many times, but I never failed to get right back up again. I wrote, I read, and I thought and cried until I couldn’t any more, and when it was time, I beat back the demons that plagued me so that I could live my waking moments without the past intruding.

I am strong. I am fierce, and now they think they can tell me to stop nursing my baby because he is too old? Or because his nursing and my giving milk will harm the new child growing within me? I have listened to the objections, and I have read my fill of research . . . but more importantly, my heart says I am healthier, happier, and more full of life and love than I have ever been.

So I will do as I please.

Because when they tell me how to parent, or what’s good for me or my babies, they do not know to whom they speak.

Am I a fierce mama?

Oh, you bet I am.

By Leslie Kung

Leslie Kung is a babywearing educator & birth activist. She writes an empowering blog http://lkbaby.com/ that all Fierce Mamas should check out!

Rhett's Birth Story

I am posting this in celebration of my son's 5th birthday. It amazes me to see what a catalyst of change his birth was, much more so than my other 2 were. He showed me that I need to birth on my own, without input from experts. He showed me how babies are active participants in their own births when not interfered with. His unplanned freebirth led me to planned unassisted pregnancy & freebirth.

This is as written & originally published 5 years ago.

Spring 2004
My husband Jesse and I celebrated our son Luke’s 2nd Birthday on March 31 and I felt relieved. I thought that I could get pregnant at any point now & my children would be spaced as I’d planned. The moment I had that thought, it seems, I became pregnant!
We had just moved onto our small farm and had enormous amounts of work to do. I was exhausted during my first trimester; the move, the work at our new house and a busy toddler who was still nursing frequently all intensified my need for rest. I had little time to think about the fact I was pregnant or to make plans for our new baby. It took me several weeks to assimilate the changes in my life.
Once I had been able to process the changes, I contacted our new midwife, Barb Scriver. Luke had been born at home so we were of course planning another homebirth for this baby. Luke’s midwife had moved shortly before we had, so we made the difficult decision to avoid a 3 hour round trip for clinic visits by choosing a different midwife. I had met Barb several times before & felt sure that she was the perfect fit for our family.

Summer 2004
I was overjoyed to learn that my friend Nancy, who had a son the same age as mine, was also pregnant and due within weeks of me! We initially became friends because we had so many things in common and I was so happy to know that the trend would be continuing. She was also planning a homebirth with Barb. This really set a positive tone for my entire pregnancy. Having Nancy to share changes and compare notes with allowed me to stop now and then to focus on my new baby. I would have found it difficult to take that time without the external reminders she provided me.
My visits with Barb are happy occasions- we decide on a “due date” of January 2 and make jokes about having a New Year’s baby. Jesse and I felt blessed to be in the familiar care of a midwife again- so few health care providers hug their clients! Barb and I mostly discuss how the changes are affecting Luke and my concerns surrounding him. Despite my plan to continue nursing Luke throughout pregnancy and to tandem nurse after the birth, he was rapidly losing interest. He was helped along by the lower milk supply and discomfort my pregnancy hormones were contributing to our breastfeeding experiences. He nursed for the last time at the beginning of August, when I was 4 months pregnant. Luke seemed ready to move on but I mourned the loss of our cherished breastfeeding relationship.

Fall 2004
I am once again grateful to have an energetic pregnancy! Once the first few tired weeks were over, I was able to complete many of the projects begun in the spring. As summer ends I am spending more & more time thinking about my upcoming birth. I read every natural birth story I can get my hands on and decide to act on a thought that I keep having: find a doula. My labour with Luke seemed long and intense and I needed a lot of physical support which was difficult for Jesse and our midwives to continuously provide. In retrospect, I know that my fear of pain slowed that labour down. I desperately want to avoid a repeat and am convinced that a doula could be there just for me, freeing Jesse to care for Luke and himself as needed.
I mentioned all this over the phone to Annemarie van Oploo. When I got to the part about wanting to look for a doula she said “Pick me!”- so we did! Annemarie and I arranged a meeting at our house to talk about the birth. After meeting her, Jesse agreed that it was a great idea to have Annemarie at our birth. At the end of the visit, Annemarie commented that her partner, Claudia Villeneuve, had never been to a homebirth. I knew Claudia from clinics at our previous midwife’s office and so I suggested to that she should be there as well. Barb had worked with our doulas before and knew them both well- we were all so happy to have such a great birth team in place! I couldn’t wait for our new baby to be born surrounded by such a joyful and supportive group of women.
With all our plans in place I began to prepare myself for the birth. I read birth stories, attended Pam England’s presentation and went to a homebirth refresher class at Barb’s office. I had wonderful conversations with Barb during my prenatal visits. She reassured me that this labour would be shorter and that my first successful homebirth had not been a fluke. We discussed my concern that my water would break long before any contractions began, as it had with Luke. I started taking vitamin C every day with hopes it would strengthen the membranes.

Winter2004/05
I have been struggling to prepare my very non-verbal yet highly visual Luke for what he might see at the birth- the traditional methods of talking and reading books are of no interest to him. At Barb’s prenatal class, she put on a video that showed the homebirth of one of her clients. Luke plunked himself in front of the TV and watched the birth with great interest. Nancy, knowing the problems I was having, laughed and pointed out that Luke obviously needed to watch births to prepare! She lent me a video of unassisted births to watch with Luke which proved to be very helpful!
We had our last meeting with Annemarie and Claudia just before Christmas. We finalised plans by candlelight- our county was in the middle of an all-day power outage caused by a wind storm. Comments were once again made about having a New Year’s baby. Jesse joked about wanting the baby born in 2005 so s/he would qualify for the provincial government’s centennial RESP grants!
We enjoyed our last Christmas as a family of 3 by sticking close to home- Jesse didn’t want to take any chances. Nancy and another friend, Chandra, had been planning a mother’s blessing for me the week after Christmas and also teased me about going into labour early and not being able to make my own party. I was sure the baby would be born the week after it’s due date and that I’d be able to attend all of our functions as planned- of course I was right!
My mother’s blessing was great- unorthodox and exactly my style. We had friends and their husbands out to Nancy’s husband’s rugby club. It was a great chance for me to relax and hang out with my friends. They all wrote inspirational messages in a ribbon-bound book for me, a gift that I will always treasure.

Tuesday January 4

I wake up from a late afternoon nap to discover that my water seems to have broken! With no contractions in sight, I phone Barb around 4:00 to let her know what’s happening. Her response- “I guess this is how you go into labour!” I am reassured by this and decide to go about my day while I wait for contractions to start. Jesse finished his work and came home as fast as he could. We spent the evening relaxing at home. I was famished and ate several snacks, each time worrying that if I ate too much I might throw up when contractions finally started. At 8:00pm, I felt the first twinge of a contraction- very light and painless. Another one occurred a while later. After that I felt a light twinge every 20 minutes or so. We decided that we should go to bed so at 10:00pm, Jesse, Luke & I all fell asleep together.
Just after midnight, the first uncomfortable contraction I felt woke me up. I breathed through several before getting out of bed and going downstairs. I settled in the bathroom with a bottle of water and the birth ball Annemarie had left. It was very helpful for working through each contraction. I was getting a nice break in between them, so I laboured by myself like this for a while. I remember talking to the baby, telling him I’d see him soon and that we were going to be working together to get him out. This is my favorite memory of Rhett’s birth, just the 2 of us awake in the warm house with winter and coyotes howling outside.
My contractions were starting to intensify so at 12:45am I called Annemarie, thinking that I would probably need her by the time she made the drive out. We chatted for a couple of minutes and she told me she would leave right away. After a few more contractions, I decided to call Barb as well. I thought I was probably phoning her a bit too soon, but she had the hose and connectors we needed to fill the pool. I figured that I would probably need her and the pool by the time she drove out too!
Shortly after that, with contractions still intensifying, I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I tried to go upstairs to wake Jesse, only making it halfway. I yelled to wake him up and he came down right away, leaving Luke upstairs sleeping. We worked together for a while with the ever-increasing contractions. We heard Annemarie arriving at 1:45, and Jesse went outside to help her bring her things in. While they were outside, I felt what I could have sworn was some involuntary pushing. I brushed it off, thinking it was obviously way too soon for anything like pushing to be happening!
Annemarie called to me from the door, saying that it sounded like I was doing great and that she had just seen a shooting star. A couple of minutes later she brought some lavender massage lotion and vibrating massage tools into the bathroom. The lavender and massage tools on my back got me through several contractions that would have otherwise been very hard to stay on top of. I began feeling restless and stood up- I really wanted to be in the pool. I don’t remember this, but Annemarie told me then that I was “getting a little transition-y”.
I do remember Annemarie telling me that the baby was coming quickly and that Barb probably wouldn’t have time to fill the pool when she got here. After settling on my knees leaning over the bathtub, I began feeling involuntary pushing with each contraction. I wouldn’t let myself believe that I was actually having a fast labour, thinking that I would be frustrated when things slowed down and it took several more hours for the baby to arrive.
The baby began moving down- I could actually feel him doing this, a sensation I hadn’t experienced at Luke’s birth. I pushed along with my body until he quickly began to crown. Jesse and Annemarie tell me he emerged very slowly, an eyebrow, then an eye and on until his entire head was out. He cleared his own mucus from his lungs and nose- they managed to get amazing pictures of this! I could feel the baby moving around, rotating his shoulders so his body could be born. Annemarie later wrote (to the baby): “It was amazing to see how much you were helping yourself to be born! Most people think that babies are passive participants in birth, but watching you would have proved them all wrong!”
He slipped out and Annemarie caught him. I asked Jesse what we had and he told me it was another boy! With help, I sat down on the floor and held our new baby. He even latched on and nursed for a minute. Rhett Nathaniel had been born at 2:41am on Wednesday January 5th, less than 2 1/2 hours after I had come downstairs. We waited for the placenta, which arrived about 20 minutes after Rhett. Barb arrived just after that, surprised and disappointed to have missed the birth! We wrapped the placenta up and moved to a chair in the living room, where Barb helped me to cut the cord and where Rhett nursed again.
Rhett and I then had a lavender bath together, during which time Luke woke up and came downstairs to see what was happening. He sat with his dad and met his new baby brother. The four of us had a wonderful chance to get to know each other during that quiet time. Barb and Annemarie did the necessary paperwork and made placenta prints for us. Claudia arrived after we got out of the bath. Rhett spent some time nursing and I got tea and a massage from Claudia. We weighed and measured Rhett, he was 8lbs12oz and 20 3/4” long.
Once we were all cleaned and fed, Barb, Annemarie and Claudia each headed home. Jesse, Luke and I went to bed for the second time that night, so blessed to have our new baby Rhett joining us!

Spring 2005

When I began to write this birth story, I was surprised by how difficult it was for me to stick to the topic. Luke’s birth story was a simple telling of facts- how we had chosen a midwife assisted birth, how the pregnancy went and what took place during labour and birth. Rhett’s story, on the other hand, demanded the inclusion of more: how the pregnancy was affecting his brother, how his dad and I took time to enjoy waiting for him and to plan his arrival and life with us. How the many wonderful friendships built through the shared experience of parenthood allowed us to appreciate a new baby all the more.
Luke was the catalyst that started the life Jesse and I enjoy now. A busy career, numerous volunteer commitments, countless playdates and time spent with family and friends are how our days are spent now. This contrasts sharply with our pre-Luke days- we can’t, in fact, remember what we did with all that time!
While Luke’s birth inspired our new life, Rhett’s had no choice but to blend into it. This is where, I believe, one of the many benefits of homebirth is seen. By normalizing birth, our midwife, doulas and friends facilitated the uncomplicated addition of this tiny boy into our family. We can’t thank them enough for their trust in birth, their encouragement and their support.
We are eternally grateful that Rhett has decided to join us. We love you, Rhett Nathaniel, we are so happy you are here!

Are you a Fierce Mama?!

You know you are! We are back after a holiday hiatus & are in need of submissions. Your writing does not need to be perfect, we will handle any editing that needs to happen. We do not edit for style at all- these are your stories & need to be told in your voices. Submissions can be sent to arieann@gmail.com