My little girl- my middle child, recently turned three. To honour that, here is her birth story, the first of many to come on Sacred Whisper Bellingen.
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| On Jaiya's birthday, we took her to feed and connect with a friend's horse, at her request. She also went canoeing, ate cake, and discovered the fine art of using a walkie talkie. |
Was it all for this? To travel through four
years of healing from Bodhi’s birth, delving into my soul to nurture those
broken parts of me; ten months of wonderfully delicious pregnancy, setting
intentions, connecting with my baby and nourishing both of us on; and many
blissful hours of early labour - just to come back to this dark place? Surely
it cannot be.
It is late in the afternoon, and I am labouring
hard. My pulse beats robustly with the strength and intensity of this pain,
this task. I find myself no longer saying I can, embracing and being present
with each expansion, using my voice to ride with the sensations of birthing. I
lose myself.
I am pleading now, please take me to hospital,
please give me pain relief. I cannot bear the physicality of this experience
anymore, and this is now reflected in my mental and emotional being. I feel
desperate, empty. I feel like no one in the room is truly hearing how bad this
is for me. I believe deeply that I cannot do this, and that no one else shares
this belief is the ultimate loneliness for me. That aloneness, these travails,
brings me straight back to Bodhi’s birth. Transcendent trauma. History
repeating.
Most of all, I
feel a sense of betraying myself for harbouring these feelings within me.
Before this, in
the deepest hours of night’s darkness. Two nights ago, I labour overnight,
after many days of surrendering to the ebb and flow of a body and heart
approaching labour. I realise the truth that this ebb and flow- the
contractions that would come and go, the mental readiness I felt, or not- was a
mechanism that would ensure that once I truly did enter labour, I would be
undoubtedly ready and would embrace it with all of my being.
That first night
of labour is bliss. On a physical level, I could actually feel the opening of
my womb with each expansion. It was not a painful feeling at all, but a
pleasurable one, and even in those early hours, as it became clear that yes,
this was labour, I felt the peak and rhythm of each one, like a wave. A few
seconds before each one, I would feel a tingling, like excitement, and energy
spiralling into me. I felt alive in every cell and totally inward.
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| The sacred life within. Pregnant with Jaiya, body painting whilst flooded in a couple of weeks before she was born. |
With each
expansion, my mantra was this:
I am opening in sweet
surrender
To the beautiful baby inside
my womb
I am opening in sweet
surrender
To the beautiful baby inside
my womb
I am opening
I am opening
I am opening
I am opening
Bodhi wakes and
lies with me, I hold him as I labour. Zai lights the fire, it feels to me like
he is standing guard. Then we all sleep again.
The contractions
stop at dawn and return two nights later. Again, bliss. I do reiki on baby and
me, speak softly to reassure her in the midst of the fear I sense she holds. I
see her clearly in these dark hours, a vital and lovely newborn girl, red and
healthy.
Feeling completely
whole in my energy system, and that of my little baby, we journey on. With
every expansion I felt the energy of the universe spiralling into me, and then
dispersing back out. It was ecstatic, expansive, open. Incredible.
I have created the
perfect birthing nest- dark, private, warm and quiet. By candle and firelight,
in my bed bedecked in muslin curtains, as my family sleeps and the wind howls
outside, I labour.
This birthing
continuum- the sacred cycle from calling this baby into my womb, through
conscious conception, a pregnancy filled with yoga and art and stillness and
love, and into the bliss and tribulation of labour and further through into the
baby’s emergence into the world- has brought me into alignment with the pure
woman who lies inside. The archetypal woman in all of us, Great Mother,
Ever-loving partner, Creative consciousness and being.
Part of this
initiation lies within Bodhi’s birth, and perhaps more importantly, choosing to
do everything to heal those wounds rather than allowing them to remain stagnant
and hurt me more. Part of the initiation comes from moving to Bellingen, and
the energies of transformation and growth that both this land, and the
community I find myself within, moves within me. Some of it comes from my work
with women, and the psyche. But all of this is just the path- the initiation
truly springs from the seed inside all of us, the feminine energies who yearn
to grow.
As the sun rises,
again my contractions leave. We journey down to the farmer’s markets. I feel
Birth still dwelling beside me, and before long I am rolling with the waves of
blissful expansions again. This is transcendent.
I start to feel an
altered sense of reality. Like I am much, much taller, and feeling dizzy. I see
people in the crowd. All these people from the community that I am so connected
to, this beautiful community, this sacred land, the band playing a song about
the pureness of a beautiful day. For a little while I dance. I am at the centre
of it all. And at the centre of me, my baby.
The expansions are
coming swiftly now, so we retreat.
Later, the
sensations now painful. I sit in our hammock, rocking gently with each
expansion. I chant a few long oms with each surge and stare out over the valley
and the ridge; the beautiful verdant green landscape that grounds me and
reminds me of the web of life I am part of. At the end of each expansion, I
whisper Om Jaiya. In between, I
listen to the sound of Zai chopping wood such an earthy, homey sound that
reassures me of the natural process I am in, and fills me with love and
gratitude for my ever-loving man.
Later again,
retreating from the expansiveness of the veranda to the shower.
In my dozy, trance
state, I notice two daddy long legs spiders climbing up the shower wall, trying
to avoid the stream of water. I feel a connection to these spiders, and an
incredible compassion for them.
I also remember a
conversation that I had with my doula some weeks ago- that birth is a verb- the
“giving” part of giving birth is the most important way to help birth flow
easily. If we as women can be focused on what we are giving to our baby- the immense
act of love, and allowing ourselves to go through such a challenging, painful
event- as well as keeping the love flowing from us to our partners, children
and others in the birth space- we will be less engaged with the physical pain,
and come from a frame of mind more apt to deal with it well.
So those spiders
mean a lot. At this moment, that’s where my love flows. One by one, I let them
crawl onto my hand, and place them safely on the window sill, where they can
continue their creation of intricate webs and whatever else it is that spiders
spend their time on in peace.
Later again,
surrendering to the intensity and immersing myself in the relief of the warm
birth pool. As the intensity begins to bear down on me again, I look up at the
ceiling of the yurt. On one panel, in the knots and natural patterning in the
timber, I see a goddess in woman form, with two circles of light at each hand-
her children. I am that goddess woman, mama of two children, one being born as
I watched. That goddess looks over me all afternoon- it was now well past
midday- and I fix my gaze on her many times as the afternoon ages.
I am aware of Zai,
Bodhi, my doula and midwife moving around me, but I begin to feel further and
further away from them. And I feel myself begin to disintegrate, an urge to
scream and complain about the pain, a rebelling against the process.
Was it all to come
to this? All my preparation, my healing, my intentions are lead to this, and
still this outcome, this trauma.
I cannot accept
this.
Is this the
surrender and letting go I never truly could conceptualise before this moment?
The course is set now, there is nothing I can do but endure.
But there is
something. I can bring myself back into strength, mentally. I know when I look
back on this birth, this is the moment I will most regret or celebrate- that
point in time where I could lose myself forever in the trauma, or whilst
acknowledging it’s message about the strength of my labour- the very strength
that comes from me- is equalled and
countered by the strength of who I am at my deepest core.
So I start in a
small way. On finding myself shaking my head with the onset of the pain, I
instead nod.
I say yes.
I smile.
I stop myself from
complaining verbally, and instead harness that energy back into my toning.
I connect with my
baby, rub my belly.
And things begin
to shift. The greater part of me, the wise woman, the ancient, rises above the
part of me that is already done in and cannot go further.
And in the stage
of bringing my baby down, I witness an amazing transformation in my body. The
urge- the full engagement of my body into pushing moves so powerfully through
me that I have no fear when it takes a little longer than expected for her to
crown. Still great pain, and tiredness, and a rushing pulse, and perhaps most
acutely discomfort from kneeling on the soft bottom of the birth pool for so
long.
I can feel my baby
now, when I reach a finger up, she is right there. Right there, just an inch or two from my vulva. My baby, so close.
And then, the
feeling of the stretch of the vulva and perineum. Not as intense as I would
have thought. I can feel the expansion, but the pain is lost in feelings of
love and anticipation.
The head emerges
halfway but retreats back in again. Zai holds my hands. The head emerges again
and remains out. My midwife says the baby will now turn and the shoulders will
come out one at a time. I feel the surge approaching.
This was it- the
moment of truth. Shoulder dystocia, all my fears around having a big baby- all
of this was about to either happen or not. The moment of truth, in experiencing
and exploring this fear and the meanings of it, the most significant moment of
my pregnancy and perhaps my life.
I summon all my
strength and open to birth’s path. This was it- the moment I was pure woman,
pure mama.
The expansion
begins to fade. I reassure myself, the shoulders sometimes take a contraction
or two to come out. It is not an emergency yet. I am totally in the moment, not
fear.
“Keep going!” The
midwife exclaims from the mists of the fading expansion. “It’s just the body to
go!”
The moment of
truth- the shoulders were born with such ease I didn’t even realise it!
A second of deep
surprise and back into my womanly giving. I push, so hard but at the same time
so effortlessly, and feel the most amazing, vivid, shifting feeling ever- my
baby emerges completely, slides out of my body, and into a world surrounded in
light.
The sun has set.
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| A most amazingly perfect moment in both our lives, and the photo that captures me better than any other. Birthing Jaiya at the yurt in Kalang, 2011 |
And then, I take
her through the water and into my arms. Oh
my God. My little one, my little baby, here, alive, with me. She looks
straight into my eyes with a look of awe and surprise.
She is here. She is
here. All there is, is her. The weight of her, the slippery feel of vernix. Her
presence.
“You’re here,” I
whisper. “Welcome, little one, your birth journey is over.”
It is Bodhi’s
presence I am first aware of outside of the sacred cocoon of baby and me. He
comes to my side, amazed, looking at the baby. A minute or less has passed
since the birth, and baby has not yet cried or taken breath.
“The baby needs
you to call him in, Bodhi” I say. “You stroke his head; tell him how much you
love him.”
Bodhi reaches out
and strokes the wet hair of the baby, whispers, “I love you.” The baby squirms,
and then starts to cry. Loud, lusty cries, which I speak to soothingly. “It’s
okay, you’ve had such a big journey. You are here now, you are safe in mama’s
arms, I am your mama.”
The baby cries on
until I offer a breast, and she latches on easily. I invite Bodhi into the
pool, and swiftly he takes off his clothes and jumps in. I am holding my two
little one, mama in bliss. Baby suckles easily and lovingly.
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| Little Jaiya and her milky friends, an ongoing relationship! |
We soon discover,
to my delight, she is a girl. A moment of surprise for the others, because
despite my visions and intuition, I had expressed that I thought she was a boy
after birth.
In a quiet,
private moment by the fire, Zai and I name our little girl Jaiya Indali Samara
Cambray.
In the hours and
days that follow, the birth settles into me. At first I feel battered, drained
emotionally and physically, raw. But at the same time, euphoria as I spend
hours gazing into Jaiya’s eyes. This love and bond that is blossoming opens the
path for euphoria of birth- that I come to experience the full and complete
satisfaction of birthing my baby lovingly at home, birthing after a caesarean,
at forty two weeks to a ‘large’ baby. I had conquered so many demons and
listened to that inner voice that told me to simply trust, love, and birth.
The story weaves
itself into my psyche.
In the weeks that
follow, I have reframed the disappointment I held in myself for the way I
experienced transition as gratefulness for the complete disintegration and
reprogramming of myself that happened therein, and deciding not to choose the
path of trauma as in Bodhi’s birth, but to uncover untold wellsprings of
womanly strength.
This birth is the ultimate resetting. I completely
countered and brought to an end the belief and pattern that I do not bring my
intentions to fruition in my life. I birthed with the deepest authenticity to
my beliefs about birth as initiation, as an act of love, as natural and sacred.
I see in myself a greater sense of self confidence, as a greater presence as a
mama.
My little girl has
gifted me all this. And I love her, so deeply, and so completely. Om Jaiya!
Do you have a birth story you would like to share on Sacred Whisper Bellingen? I intend to make this website a repository for the honouring, celebrating and exploring of birth stories, both the positive and the negative, in the context of all that birth can be for us, as mothers, babies and humanity. Email me at sacredwhisperbellingen at gmail.com to share!
© Sammi Cambray/Sacred Whisper Bellingen 2014
Sammi is a holistic doula and birth counsellor, and the publisher
of Sacred Whisper Bellingen
Ph: 
0418 950 793
0418 950 793 
