02/27/2026
8 years ago, I realized who the f**k I was
I birthed my second baby, my son, at home. On my terms.
I roared him earthside with my downstairs tenant wondering wtf was going on
I remember the sounds that came out of me . Not pretty. Life moving through my bones.
No one owned that moment but me.
I was told not to do it.
I was Told it wasn’t safe.
I was Told I didn’t know what I was doing.
I was Told I was irresponsible.
I remembered my first birth. Sabotaged. My sacred rite of passage ripped from me in the hands of an unnecessary medical team.
It fuelled me.
It reminded me that my body is not weak.
It reminded me that I was not broken.
It was a deep remembering that birth is not something to be managed.
The body is sovereign.
It is wise.
It knows.
That birth cracked me open in ways I’m still unfolding from.
That day, I didn’t become a mother.
I became a woman who would never abandon her own knowing again.
Happy birthday sweet sweet boy. I’ll love you until the end of time in every lifetime. Thank you for making me the Mother I am today.
Xoxo
Kristin
birthwithoutfear
