YOU Cannot Heal If You Aren't Doing This...and a Story

You cannot bring new life into your life any other way than through the body

Contractions started around 5:30am. I was birthing at home, so there was no rush, no need to be anywhere. I remember trying to go back to sleep. But then it was clear — every 10 minutes, a significant contraction. Eventually I got up, and things began to move. 6 minutes. 5 minutes. 3 minutes.

My parents came and took my oldest so Rudy and I could just be together at home.

They stayed at 3 minutes. Forever, it felt like. We were on the phone with the midwives and they asked, do you want us to come now? I said I thought they had time. They said they had one stop to make — to visit someone who’d just had a baby the day before — and then they’d come. The midwife chuckled and added:

just so you know, babies can be born when contractions are 3 minutes apart.

I remember saying okay. And feeling completely calm. Like: I’m fine.

So we watched a movie — which was funny, because Rudy had to pause it every 3 minutes so I could stand up and rock through each contraction.

At some point I said: I need to get in the shower. That house had a shower right off the living room. The moment the water hit my back, I told him: I want to push. Now.

Rudy had already attended our first child’s home birth, so he moved quickly — wrapped me in towels, contractions and all. I only made it as far as the chair at the edge of the living room. I placed my hands on the back of it and said: I absolutely must push.

His response: can I at least grab a towel?

He told me afterward it was because he’d learned at our son’s birth just how slippery babies are, and he was not going to drop this one.

Then he asked if I could squat down. Or lay down.

My firm answer: no. This is how it’s going.

So Rudy smiled, held the towel, and I gave 3 pushes. Out came our daughter.

He looked up at me and said: would you sit down now?

Of course I did.

The first to arrive was my mom — the look on her face when she walked in and found Rudy and me with a baby already on my chest. The midwives arrived shortly after, just in time to deliver the placenta. And in her case, I was blessed to leave the cord attached for hours, letting her receive every drop of cord blood, while she and I took an herbal bath together to settle into our new world.

Her birth taught me things I carry into my work every single day.

You cannot bring new life forward when you are disconnected from your body.

It is a foundational law of healing — there must be a relationship with your body for new things to emerge.

And within that relationship: you get to do it your way.

I believe it was her spirit that set the stage — me standing, rocking, refusing to lie down — because that is deeply resonant with who she is. She came in on her own terms.

This is what I hold at the center of everything I do with the women in Thriving Health. We find the path that is their path. The path led by their body. And over time, that body-led life becomes so profound that they come to me only for possible suggestions — and then take action based on their body’s own yes or no.

Because of that, they access an infinite level of thriving. They heal things they were told could not be healed. They do things they thought would never happen.

The miracle moves through us.

Every moment of life is us bringing life forward — even if you’ve never had children, even if you’re postmenopausal, even if you never want children. Every dream, every transformation, every new thing you’re calling in: that is you bringing life forward.

And it must come through the body.

The spark of life is within you. Every cell has to participate. If your cells are exhausted, that becomes very hard to do.

I would love to support you in birthing life into your life.

This is what Thriving Health is for — the woman who is determined that her life transforms. The woman who is determined to be fully alive. The woman who knows that her body is the miracle.