Wild & Free Birth Wellness

11/09/2025

Oh, the time I was facing federal and felony charges for practicing midwifery?
Sure. Let’s talk about that.

I spent tens of thousands of dollars defending myself against something that never even happened.

I was accused of crossing state lines to attend births — a felony and federal offense.

Here’s the truth: I live in a state that doesn’t regulate midwifery. Our borders touch two felony states. So families seeking VBACs, breeches, twins, or full autonomy cross into Pennsylvania for care.

That’s always been normal. Until another midwife — over 1,000 miles away — filed a false report.

Do you know what it feels like to look out your window expecting to be arrested in front of your kids?
To sit before a board — the Attorney General, OBs, licensing officials — while they dissect your practice, your website, your posts, your life?

They asked me about hotels, Airbnbs, and surveillance footage that didn’t exist. Trying to catch me in something.

It was like living in a Lifetime movie.

Almost two years later, I finally got the letter.
Case closed. Unfounded.
And it named the complainant.
Another midwife.
Over a thousand miles away.

The letter ended with, “Your response was considered.”
Thanks.

My “response” was defensive and expensive.

No wrongdoing.
No charges.
Just trauma, debt, and a permanent file with my name on it.

That’s what a rumor can do in birth work.

This is bigger than me.
This is the persecution of midwifery.
The persecution between midwives.
And the state’s obsession with controlling who’s “allowed” to support women in their own homes.

This isn’t just politics — it’s constitutional.

& We need federal protection for traditional birth rights.

For the families whose homes are sacred.
For the parents whose autonomy is God-given.
For the midwives who risk everything to preserve that sacred work.

Because if the state can decide who may attend a birth—
the state already owns the body that’s giving birth.

And the powers and principalities know that.

Read on in the comments and tell me your thoughts.

11/05/2025

11/05/2025

As I was driving through the autumn colors today, winding along the backroads of Michigan, I found myself reflecting on how sacred this season feels — not just the changing leaves, but the rhythm of birth and new beginnings. 🍂
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Every prenatal or postpartum visit feels like a gentle reminder of how beautifully God designed this journey of motherhood. Each drive gives me time to pray over the mamas I serve — to hold space for the unfolding stories, the transformations, the tears and laughter.
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When you hire me as your birthkeeper, you’re inviting me into one of the most sacred seasons of your life — and I don’t take that lightly. Each month, I sit with you for slow, intentional visits that unfold in whatever way you need most. Sometimes we talk birth logistics. Sometimes we talk faith, fears, or family. And sometimes, we just breathe together in the quiet. 🕊️
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You’ll also receive education through Fearless Birth Sanctuary, a space I created to help women step boldly into birth informed and empowered — so you can make confident decisions, rooted in truth and peace, long before those moments arrive.
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Beyond our monthly visits, you’ll have unlimited text and phone support, a lending library, and my full calendar blocked off from 38 weeks until your baby arrives — because your birth deserves my complete presence.
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And then comes the postpartum season — a time where so many women are forgotten, but I refuse to let that happen. You’ll receive 6 hours of postpartum doula support, fully customized to your needs. Maybe that means a nap while I fold laundry, cooking you a warm meal, or simply sitting beside you while you process your birth story.
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Each visit is a moment of nourishment, a reminder that you don’t have to walk this path alone.
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Your childbearing year should feel deeply supported, restorative, and sacred — because you deserve that kind of care. 🤍
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I have just a few spaces open for 2026 births, and I’d be honored to walk this journey beside you.

10/18/2025

It’s been a really big week — one that’s left me feeling both tender and deeply grateful.

On Tuesday, our littlest wildling turned 7 months old, and I stepped into the sacred labyrinth of birth with a beloved client. The contrast of new life and deep reflection wasn’t lost on me.

On Wednesday, while quietly supporting that mother through her own transformation, I found myself smiling through the memories — remembering, laughing, and simply thanking God for this life. Because October 15th marked 10 years since my sweet husband, Ben, was called home to be with the Lord.

I was 26 then — a widow, a mother of three little ones, just trying to find my footing in a world that no longer made sense. And now, somehow, I’ve been without him longer than I was with him. Our babies — who were once 5, 2, and 5 months old — are now 15, 12, and 10. Time has both flown and stood still all at once.

I’m endlessly grateful for this life — for my husband, Norman, who stepped in and chose us, chaos and all. Together, we’ve added three more beautiful souls to our wild tribe.

On Thursday, October 17th, another sacred story was written — a precious baby brought earthside with so much grace, faith, and strength. My clients were warriors, leaning fully into God’s perfect plan.

Now that I’ve had a moment to reintegrate back into my own family, I feel a deep sense of peace washing over me. I remember Ben with so much love, gratitude, and awe. Ten years feels like both a lifetime and a breath.

All I can say is thank You.
Thank You, God, for carrying us through the refining fire. For protecting, shaping, and redeeming us. For never failing, even in the darkest nights.

And thank you to our village — to those who remember every single year. Who reach out, who hold space, who remind me of how far I’ve come when I can’t see it myself.

Ten years later, there’s still grief — but there’s also immeasurable peace, radiant joy, and a heart overflowing with gratitude.

08/19/2025

Mother the Mothers.

Birth is magical. Being invited into the birth space is an honor that never loses its wonder.

But the real transformation isn’t just in the moment of birth—it’s in the before and the after.
The hard, sacred work begins in the prenatal season—where a woman prepares her mind, body, and spirit to bring forth life.

And it continues in the postpartum season—where she rests, heals, and learns to nurture her baby while being reborn herself.

Our foremothers knew this. They carried the wisdom of the village. They cooked, cleaned, tended the household, and mothered the mother so she could focus on what was most important: nourishing new life and allowing her own transformation.

In so many cultures, the grandmothers still mother the mothers. But here, many of us are rediscovering what was nearly lost.

The village is growing again. It may not look like it did generations ago, but it is being reborn through women choosing to break cycles—choosing to support one another, to lift each other up, to create the kind of postpartum care we long for our daughters and granddaughters to inherit.

We are bringing the village back.

08/12/2025

My daughters and I had the honor of attending a home birth together — witnessing life enter the world in the most sacred and raw way. Side by side, holding space, praying, supporting, and honoring the work of birth. This is what the village looks like.
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This is generational wealth — not in dollars or possessions, but in presence, wisdom, and legacy. This is the revival of what our foremothers knew: that women belong to one another in these holy moments. That birth is not meant to be endured alone behind closed doors, but witnessed, supported, and held in love.
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We hold quiet space. We protect the energy in the room. We know birth is holy ground, and we tread lightly.
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We offer sips of water and spoonfuls of honey. We speak in whispers. We dim the lights. We protect the mother-baby dyad—keeping them together, untouched, undisturbed, unrushed.
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We don’t forget about the father—he, too, is shifting, softening, and being reborn in his own way. We honor his presence, his strength, his tears.
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We cook a hearty post-birth meal, warm a nourishing drink, and serve it to the mother with reverence. We wipe blood from her legs, walk her gently to the bathroom, lay out chux pads, help her dress in cozy clothes made for skin-to-skin and feeding her baby.
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We tuck the mother, baby, and father into bed, and we close the door behind them—guarding that sacred golden hour as if it were holy… because it is.
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I want my daughters to know the sounds of labor, the strength of a birthing woman, the rhythm of steady support. I want them to remember that we don’t just talk about support — we show up for it. We live it.
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We are not meant to do this alone. And the more we return to each other, the more healing will ripple out for generations to come.
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This is bringing back the village. ✨

08/11/2025

Homebirth emergency - is it what you think?

At home:

– Decels? I reposition mom, left lateral, call EMS before we’d need them.

– Baby crowns, no restitution. Shoulders not stuck, but not moving — PAC pull was the best move for this dystocia.

– Baby out to mom’s chest. Slow cry, great tone, fat pulsing short cord. Pinked up in our hands.

-Ems arrives with no job to do, and is sent away happy they didn't have to deliver a baby.

In hospital:

– Same decels? Likely whisked to OR for “emergency C-section” before pushing.

– If not, second alarm sounds for shoulder dystocia.

– Mom flat on her back in McRoberts, four-step sequence, maybe an episiotomy “just in case.”

– Cord clamped & cut instantly.

– Baby to warmer, then NICU “for observation.”

– Mom left with surgery or stitches, separated from her baby.

Birth isn’t just where — it’s how it’s handled.