One of the many reasons we need Birth Justice!!!!
my baby was born at home by candlelight . home was a 1958 chevy school bus . one of those three quarter round bodied things . painted a drab green . middle of winter at elevation 8750 . attended by two midwives , several other women , and four or so year old ruby . there was crispy coldness outside . people were coming from middle of tiny town in the up high canyon , several blocks to my bus close to the edge of town, to spy and see if the baby came yet . spent some of the night in a neighbor’s bathtub . all this having begun the night before inside an actual house at another part of tiny town . having been watching father of the bride eating new york super fudge chunk . up all night regular contractions no real pain . to the bus early morning of tu b’shevat , the jewish new year for trees . up the mountain side to firecracker hill for some fresh air and a view . back to the bus . darkness fell , big round moon . baby having been conceived on the same arbor day moon . neighbors turned on outside light to shatter the moon . midwife got them to turn it off . moon shattered their arrogance . i said ‘i wish all the lights would go out’ . 10:20pm lights out scribbled by my old dead friend gretchen on a tiny corner of paper ripped from somewhere . lights out . blackout in town . brownout in the whole san miguel county so i heard . people jiggin’ to the band at the bar in wait had to have a drum circle instead . whilst still sending scouts to spy. in the tub i could hardly breath . could not eat . and one of those angels had the foresight to have and give me miso . miso saved my life . then i cried because i thought they were not gonna let me get back to the bus for the coming of this mystery . we did it , though . we got me walking , after twenty four hours of labor , under full glowing lunar light . sprinkling onto deeply frozen crystals of packed and powdered snow , lasers reflecting illuminating my path to home . while stars sprinkled the narrow deep sky . much later under covers for warmth , back in tenth hour of spasm , a voice emerged from me yelling ‘now i know why women do drugs!’ . i knew then i could not do this thing . of course then the thing did itself . relief and worry as midwives hurriedly secretly awakened the blue child from that first escape from trauma . a breath . they thought i didn’t know . a breath and a cry out in announcement . thirty hours since the new york super fudge chunk the long legged big footed spindly fingered sprout of a tree child , having entered me on arbor day then entered this world on the jewish tree day , lay in the palm of my hand , on one forearm cradled . could this be real ? she was real . sobbing with exhaustion , grief and joy , i held her to me , nursed her with ruby there by our side . finally here she was , somebody freer stephanchild . we had laughed under that blazing moon about tree names . between contractions . nothing came of it until that moment when one of those women asked , just after convincing the newborn to breathe , and while holding her up to say ‘see what you have?’ and ask ‘do you have a name for her?’ or maybe ‘what will you call her?’ . i immediately said ‘teak’
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