“What if the word victim could be redefined into something closer to hero… recognizing that the path some have tread will spare others from the same?”
Mike Dooley, Notes from the Universe
Artwork by Arthur Airin
On May 12, 1998, I experienced the most profound spiritual initiation of my life. It was on that fateful day, after a very long, 53-hour, home birth labor, that my daughter, Anastasia, was born still. As she emerged from my womb, her eyes remained closed, her umbilical cord was not pulsing, and she was not breathing. I remember asking my husband, Brian, to hand me my baby so I could try to bring her back to life. But as soon as I reached out for my daughter, I immediately fell back into the birthing pool. I was blacking out due to exhaustion and extreme loss of blood. In technical terms, I was hemorrhaging to death, and it took everything I had to try to stay conscious during this horrible scene.
Paramedics were immediately called and my baby was rushed to a neonatal intensive care unit in Miami and placed on “life-support” machines in an effort to keep her “alive.” Despite being on their machines for two months and two days, she never opened her eyes.
While Anastasia was being whisked to the NICU, I was being rushed to a hospital in Key West where I recall receiving harsh and insensitive treatment while in the emergency room. The medics on duty appeared to be in a state of panic because I was losing a lot of blood and had not yet given birth to the placenta. So they proceeded to push, press and pound on my womb with such force and intensity, it was as if they had no awareness there was a human being attached to the body part they were pounding on. The horror of the entire experience was more painful and surreal than anything I had ever encountered in my life.
I was forced to spend an entire week in that hospital, separated from my baby, barely able to walk, doing whatever I could to recover from my near-death experience and the tragedy of giving birth to a dead child. My husband brought me pictures of our baby, but she had tubes attached to her body and tape stuck all over her face. I could not even make out what she really looked like. Was that my child? Could this possibly be happening? I don’t even recognize my own baby!!! What is wrong with me? All I feel is numb. All I want is to be dead.
I recall, while in the emergency room, they put me under anesthesia. And when the anesthesia wore off, I had an experience of plunging – hard – back into my physical body. I think, for at least a few moments, I must have really been dead because I distinctly recall wanting to stay dead. I was fighting with some type of spiritual forces, yelling “I don’t want to go back! I don’t want to go back!” But the outside forces seemed to have the upper hand in this situation and “they” insisted that I had to come back. I was told that my life was not over and that there was more work that needed to be done. And so back I came, slamming hard into my physical vessel, wondering why the hell I had ever been born and what on Earth I was thinking when I signed up for this ride.
Every ounce of my physical body felt pain, and my soul was suffering through the deepest experience of grief known to humankind. I remember lying in a hospital bed, hurting more than I ever dreamed possible, when an angel appeared in the form of a human female nurse. She nurtured me and touched me with so much tenderness and love, that it made me sob quite hysterically in grief for a lifetime of having no conscious connection to nurturing love.
My life up to that point had been a series of tragedies and traumas, many of which had inter-generational roots and were repeats of earlier childhood wounds. One of my earliest wounds occurred during my own conception which took place at a drive-in movie theater in the back seat of a car. My parents were teenagers at that time and decided to “have sex” for whatever reason teenagers do that. Neither of my parents consciously wanted to bring forth a child, so I ended up spending the first nine months of my life living in a womb where I was NOT wanted. My earliest memories are of feeling unloved and unlovable, and these primal, powerful imprints made their way into my physiology and caused decades of emotional and psychic pain as well as difficulty creating healthy relationships.
This sad beginning was followed by a horrific birth experience that took place in a violent technological setting (a/k/a the hospital) where all energies seemed to be antagonistic to my well-being and where it was psychically confirmed that I did not deserve even the slightest amount of tenderness, support, or love from those who were responsible for my well-being. I had absolutely no help during my own birth as my mother was anesthetized and completely unconscious, and my father was kept out of the birthing space by usurping doctors who felt that their presence was more important than his. At no time during my gestation or birth were either one of my parents able to support me or extend to me the love and nurturing that I needed, and at all times I felt that I had to overcome unbelievable odds just to stay alive.
From these troubled beginnings comes my life experience in which I’ve had a very difficult time thriving. I’ve spent decades dealing with unresolved emotional pain that led to a series of abusive relationships, living in extreme poverty, a 15-year addiction to prescription pills and illegal drugs, as well as severe eating disorders. As if all of that were not punishment enough (I always felt guilty for being born and was convinced I had ruined my mother’s life because of it), I also have a 30-year history of miscarriages and other tragic endings in childbirth – and although I live in a culture that tries to sweep such severe losses under the rug, each of the losses effected me deeply and created spiritual and psychic wounding that intensified over time.
By the time I reached the age of 35, I had already experienced all of the above problems as well as three pregnancy losses (one of them extremely severe) and an extremely dark journey through the labyrinth of technological “infertility treatments.” Even though I was never really infertile, I endured these hideous “treatments” because my first husband was diagnosed with a low sperm count that made it difficult for us to conceive. During the 16 years that we were together, I successfully conceived three times, two of which pregnancies ended in miscarriage, and a third which ended in a late-stage abortion of our severely deformed child. Our child was conceived through a combination of artificial insemination and the ingestion of neuro-toxic pharmaceutical drugs, both of which combined to create a surreal technological nightmare that ended horribly for me, my baby, and my marriage. The artificial insemination procedures were painful and humiliating, and the “fertility” drugs made me feel sick and break out in skin rashes. Years later I would discover that the fertility drugs I consumed were at the root of my baby’s deformities and were causing untold suffering for millions of families who also were having deformed children.
If I had understood then what I understand now, I would never have tried to conceive a baby in that way. Unfortunately, I had no way of knowing how ominous my birth experiences were about to become or just how dark technologically-managed pregnancy and birth really are. I endured extreme amounts of suffering and psychic wounding solely because I had handed my body and my procreative power over to the medical “profession.” And this I did because I had been conditioned to believe that “they” were more qualified than me to handle my pregnancies and births, and because my programming was like a hypnotic spell that lasted for decades and caused me to view the technological demi-gods as all-powerful and almighty.
It is important to note also that my Catholic upbringing strongly influenced the choices I made and caused me to expect that childbirth would be a horrendously unpleasant experience. I was raised to believe that this is how God wanted it and I was silly enough to pray to that mean-spirited God to help me get pregnant. On the surface, I was hoping that God would deliver a healthy child. But deep down, I didn’t trust that God at all, and I was intuitively afraid that he would hatefully take my baby from me as punishment for some previous indiscretion (content unknown) that I may have committed earlier in my life. I was in fear almost the entire five months of my pregnancy, worrying that something terrible would go wrong.
Sure enough, sometime during the 5th month of my pregnancy, I underwent a third of fourth sonogram – and this time the results were not good. I recall sitting in a sterile, industrial-type, antiseptic-smelling, medical room, listening to one of the doctors telling me that my baby was severely deformed and probably would not be able to survive outside of the womb. In looking at the sonogram, I could see that my baby had no skin on its stomach and that its organs were floating around in the sac. I could also see that my baby’s spine was twisted in an “S” shape – a condition the doctors called “spina bifida.”
My world was turned upside down. I felt as if I would collapse to the ground. My greatest fear had been made manifest and I was left with the terrible decision of whether to abort my baby at this mature stage of pregnancy, or carry the baby to term, knowing that it would surely die once it came out of my womb. I chose to abort my child.
Adding to my horror was the fact that my pregnancy had already advanced to the second trimester, and therefore, I could not undergo a “simple” abortion. Instead, I had to literally give birth to my child and experience the traumatizing underworld procedures of technological induction, drug-drenched labor, and unconscious birth. I recall the absolute gall and insensitivity of the medical staff as they placed me in a maternity ward where I was surrounded by other women who were – purportedly – joyfully giving birth. Knowing that my baby was to be aborted and born dead was difficult enough, but being surrounded by other women who were successfully giving birth to their babies made it much, much harder. I was in such a state of shock and drug-induced fog when my son emerged from my womb, I barely remember looking at his dead form and wondering what “they” (i.e., those unconscious, insensitive assholes) would do with his body.
Years later I would discover that aborted human babies are being used for a variety of sordid scientific endeavors, and we can now find aborted human fetal tissue turned into a vaccine ingredient, or being used for “flavor-enhancing” research (google Senomyx and HEK 293), or even being turned into stamina boosting pills!!! I cannot begin to describe the psychic turmoil that I feel knowing that my baby’s body could have been used for any of these diabolical things, and also realizing how much suffering my baby endured because I chose to abort him. Late-stage abortions are particularly hideous because the baby is literally burned to death from the inside-out. The abortionist injects a strong saline solution directly into the amniotic sac and the baby swallows and breathes in the solution and his/her lungs are burned. His/her outer layer of skin is also burned and stripped away, and the babies can struggle and convulse for up to 12 hours before their heart stops beating and they succumb to death.
Again, if I had known then what I know now, I would NEVER have chosen to abort my baby. I would have allowed him to be born instead and to die gently and in the arms of love. How sad that the technocratic gods do not tell women the truth about what is really going to happen to their babies during an abortion. How sad that I was raised in a culture where abortion is considered “normal.”
This whole spiritually annihilating experience took place in a hospital in Mineola, New York – which happens to be the very same hospital in which I was born. This “coincidence,” I would later understand, was not a coincidence at all, but a brilliant attempt on my part to re-enact portions of my own traumatic birth so that memories could rise to the surface for resolution. “Traumatic repetition” is the term used to describe the human tendency to recreate patterns of trauma over and over again. We do this not because we are masochistic, but because we are earnestly seeking resolution — the means to create a happy ending and return to the system to love. Unfortunately, this particular re-enactment did not bring resolution, but instead, further compounded the trauma.
It is important to note also that, like me, my husband also had a great deal of unresolved prenatal and birth trauma – some of which played itself out during this particular birth experience. My husband was given-up for adoption as an infant, and it is likely that his mother contemplated abortion while he was in her womb – just as I was contemplating abortion while his child was in my womb (something he had a tremendous amount of difficulty with). His low sperm count was, no doubt, his body’s way of expressing his ambivalence toward pregnancy and childbirth – all stemming from the unconscious residue of his unresolved prenatal, birth and adoption trauma. Had he been given an opportunity to consciously heal his early life experiences, his low sperm count would probably have resolved itself and he might have avoided having to endure this recapitulation episode.
Unfortunately, we had no access to prenatal and birth trauma therapists at that time, nor any language to understand what was happening to us – and why. Lacking the support we needed to make sense of our experiences and heal them, our marriage began to break down and, within a few short years, we went our separate ways. (Footnote 1 – see footnotes at bottom of article).
By the time I met my second husband, Brian, I was carrying so much unresolved birth trauma, there was little hope I could ever give birth to a child with ease. Sadly, I had no way of understanding the dangers that were lurking in my unresolved baggage, and so, within the first month of meeting Brian, I rapidly became pregnant again. During this pregnancy (my fourth), I was able to maintain a sense of joy for approximately 14 weeks, at which point the walls came crashing down upon discovering that my baby had died in my womb. I recall going to see a Long Island midwife (whose name I won’t mention but who I would strongly recommend people avoid) for a regular prenatal check-up, only to be told, quite matter-of-factly, that my baby was dead. This woman was so rough in her handling of my body, and so callous in the way that she communicated to me that I was carrying a dead child, that I could scarcely believe other women would allow her to attend their births.
Despite all of the grief I was experiencing, and unaware that my unresolved grief and trauma were setting the stage for extreme danger during future pregnancies and births, I plowed on and conceived yet another child within that same year.
Amazingly, my fifth pregnancy really took root and I carried Anastasia to term. I avoided technocratic doctors like the plague, and instead, sought help from local midwives and nutritional experts. I ate well (vegetarian and organic), exercised regularly, got plenty of rest, and consulted dozens of books and movies about gentle and natural birth. I educated myself to the umpteenth degree in an effort to ready myself for natural birth.
Still oblivious to the hazards of unresolved birth trauma, and having not yet made the connection between my own traumatic hospital birth and the experiences I was currently having, I was, nevertheless, mysteriously drawn to literature that revealed the dangers of technologically-managed childbirth. At last, I was beginning to understand that hospitals were an incredibly harsh and violent place to give birth, and although my focus was on finding the most gentle way to bring my baby into this world, I had a strong personal aversion to giving birth in a hospital – even if I still didn’t fully understand why. My husband felt exactly the same way I did and we, therefore, made the conscious decision to birth to our baby at home.
We had tried, several times throughout my pregnancy, to locate the perfect midwife to support us through the birth. None of the Long Island midwives impressed me, and by the time I got to Florida, most of the Florida midwives were unwilling to take me on as a client due to the lateness of my pregnancy and my past history with miscarriage and loss. The one midwife who was willing to support us (she was the main reason we moved to Florida) suddenly became unavailable as I got close to term because the State of Florida made it illegal for birth-center midwives to attend home births.
My husband and I had to go it alone, and part of me really believed that we could do it. On a conscious level, I kept telling myself that I was exceptionally well-prepared and that I had reached a level in my spiritual development where nothing could go wrong. I loved my husband, deeply, and believed our love would carry us through.
On a subconscious level, I was absolutely terrified. Despite all the emotional, psychological, and spiritual work I had done, I was extremely insecure about my ability to give birth. And at the deepest levels of my being, I feared what God’s intentions might be for me and my baby. (Footnote 2 – see bottom of article)
On Mother’s Day, May 10th, 1998, my labor began, and two days later on May 12th, at 1:14 pm, Anastasia was born dead. Although the masterminds of the technological underworld were able to keep her “alive” with their high-tech machines and protocols, she never opened her eyes and was never able to breathe on her own. She suffered for two months in the neonatal intensive care unit, daily subjected to the fear-based, sadistic rituals and tortures of the medical profession, and finally succumbed to her final death on July 14th, 1998. She died during a failed surgery attempt to slice a whole in her throat for the purpose of inserting a breathing tube – a process the technological gods call a “tracheotomy.” Several years later I would come to understand that this surgery was likely performed on my daughter WITHOUT ANESTHESIA — a common practice amongst medical “professionals” who insist that babies do not feel pain.
I watched the brutality of NICU protocols being thrust at my daughter day after day. Needles in her head, feet, arms — anywhere they could stick them — numerous times a day, day after day. Tape repeatedly torn-off from across her vulnerable and sensitive face and then replaced by more tape and more tape and more tape. Mechanical gadgets everywhere attached to her body, making it impossible for her to receive loving, nurturing, skin-to-skin human contact. Tubes forced through her nose and shoved down her throat, day after day after day, with no pain medication whatsoever but only paralyzing drugs to make the procedures less difficult for the doctors and nurses.
Anastasia felt every single thing they did to her. Paralysis meant she could not move. But she could FEEL everything those knife-wielding, needle-pricking, tube-shoving maniacs did to her. And her father and I had to watch it, over and over again. There were times when I was observing what they were doing to my daughter and flashbacks of my own traumatic hospital birth would flash across my mind. During these moments, I experienced such profound discomfort in my own body, that I literally wanted to rip off my skin. Not only was it difficult to recognize the severity of what I had been through, but to then watch them do the same evil things to my baby as they did to me — well that was enough to throw me over the psychological edge.
During one particular code-red experience (my baby was on the verge of death), I remember witnessing a hideous creature calling himself a doctor holding my baby in his hands and trying to puff up his own sense of self-importance by forcefully pushing on my daughters little body in order to demonstrate how HE could do the breathing for her. I wanted to tear my baby out of his arms and run out of that hospital, but I was afraid that she would die if I took her away from their machines. So I stood there, asking the doctor if it were really necessary for him to push on my daughter’s body so forcefully, appalled by his threatening response to have hospital security remove me if I tried to interfere or give him any more lip. It was excruciatingly painful to watch this man use my daughter’s body to pump up his own ego, and it was enraging to have my husband stand mutely by, allowing this beast of a man to abuse his baby and threaten his wife. This was the beginning of the end for me and my husband, and it was not until several years later – long after our marriage had come to an end – that I was finally able to forgive him.
This is still the incident that conjures up the most profound discomfort within me, probably because it is the incident that mirrored the deepest levels of my own birth trauma wounding:
- unconscious, abusive male energies roughly mishandling my body
- using my precious physical body to bolster their grandiose egos and their own sense of self-importance
- demonstrating a callous, heartless, disregard for the extreme sensitivity of my being
- subjecting me to sadistic rituals and procedures that were painful, violent, and extremely traumatizing
- having no powerfully loving male (or female) presence to protect or defend me
- being unable to protect myself or get away from the abuse
- being dependent on the abusers for my life
All of these components were present during my own hospital birth, and all of them played themselves out masterfully during this recapitulation episode with Anastasia. (Footnote 3 – at bottom)
There are numerous other parallels between the birth experiences I had as an infant and the childbirth experiences I had as an adult. In truth, there was an entire lineage of unresolved, traumatic prenatal and birth experiences that seemed to out-picture themselves through me as I must have been the elected representative to heal the entire family line! These similarities were begging to be recognized and addressed so that the recapitulation episodes could end, and although I started making the connections during Anastasia’s brief life, they didn’t come into full clarity until several years later, after I had moved to Maui and began working with Dr. Stephanie Mines (http://tara-approach.org). (See Footnote 4 below)
For several years, I remained trapped in a vortex of trauma that had begun in early life but was greatly exacerbated by the shock of Anastasia’s birth/death. I was experiencing post-traumatic stress symptoms that were quite severe, as well as homelessness, extreme poverty, a series of abusive relationships, and endless despair and grief. Despite all of the lush and wondrous beauty that surrounded me in Hawaii, and all of the joy I was experiencing in reconnecting to the natural world, I still felt isolated and afraid most of the time, always wondering when “God” was going to drop the next bombshell. Although I had heard the new-age rhetoric about creating my own reality a million times before, I nevertheless had the sense that something bigger and much larger than my “self” was really running the show. I didn’t trust this energy at all and worried incessantly about what “it” was planning to subject me to next. (Footnote 7 at bottom)
I attracted three “romantic” relationships into my life during this excruciatingly painful period, but all of them were abusive and none of them provided the authentic love and tenderness I needed to heal. Because I was in an energetic field of trauma, I attracted/created three deeply wounded men who (from my perspective) had virtually no capacity to love and a heartless indifference to my suffering (my birth trauma was activating again!). Although physical violence was rarely an issue, psychic and emotional turmoil were the norm. (See Footnote 8 at bottom)
I finally met Dr. Stephanie Mines (http://tara-approach.org) during my fourth year on Maui, at which time the real healing began. Stephanie was instrumental in helping me identify and work through some of my deepest birth trauma residue, providing me with insights into how my earliest experiences influenced my adult life. She also gave me a tool – a Japanese system of subtle energy medicine called Jin Shin – which was ultimately the key to my transformation. As soon as I started practicing Jin Shin (i.e., doing self-care on a daily basis), my life began to change quite rapidly. Within three months of daily self-care, I stopped smoking marijuana – for good. (This was after several years of abuse which began with Anastasia’s death). Within five months, my finances and housing began to improve. Soon, many other things began to shift as well, including the quieting of my post-traumatic stress symptoms and an ability to sleep once again! With Jin Shin, I found that when I was feeling highly agitated by something in my outer experience, I could simply take my fingertips and place them on my body in strategic places, and presto, I was able to calm myself down. This capacity to calm my nervous system was invaluable to me at the time (it still is) because I found myself activated ALOT and really needed a tool that would help me settle down. Jin Shin not only did that, but it completely transformed my electro-magnetic energy field, slowly taking me out of the vortex of trauma I was stuck in, and moving me into a life experience in which I felt much more nurtured and supported.
Jin Shin also enabled me to forgive many of those who I perceived had hurt me – not because I had made up my mind to forgive them, but because forgiveness was happening spontaneously as I moved through my healing process. This included forgiving my mother (who I recognized as having been severely traumatized herself) and my husband, Brian, for not protecting me or our daughter during that horrible scene in the Miami hospital. I came to understand that Brian was suffering from a habitual nervous system response known as “parasympathetic shock” whereby the body and personality immediately freeze when danger is present. The origins of this habitual nervous system response probably lie in Brian’s circumcision, as the levels of pain and torture that an infant is forced to endure during this sadistic, ritualistic, satanic-based “procedure,” force his system to shut down, go numb, and/or “check out” through temporary paralysis. Because the “play dead” response enabled him to stay alive as an infant, it became a life-long response to threat, causing Brian to go numb whenever he was confronted with danger.
So I finally understood that Brian could not stand up in defense of me or his baby because parasympathetic shock had kicked into gear in the presence of the abusive egomaniac calling himself a medical doctor. I had seen this “freezing” behavior in Brian many times before, but until I began studying the effects of birth trauma with Dr. Stephanie Mines, I had no context in which to understand it.
Interestingly, I also learned that Brian and I were opposites. While his nervous system habitually went into parasympathetic mode, my nervous system habitually moved into the “sympathetic” mode of “fighting” (which prompted me to want to bust the doctor in the head and take my baby and run!). These are dichotomous survival mechanisms that Brian and I had learned and utilized early in life (i.e., during life-threatening prenatal and birth experiences), which had become habituated over time and were a constant source of tension in our relationship. It was wonderful to finally make sense of Brian’s “wimpy” behavior and forgive him, and also to make sense of my own behavior (i.e., my tendency to short-circuit and want to attack people) and forgive myself.
Finally, Jin Shin enabled me to connect the dots, i.e., to see the parallels between my adult childbirth experiences and the lineage of prenatal and birth trauma that ran through my family line. These parallels were numerous and obvious once I knew where to look. I will endeavor to outline some of them here:
1. My maternal grandmother gave birth to a baby boy that was killed by the medical system. The doctors used forceps to pull my grandmother’s baby out, and they used too much force, thereby giving the baby a brain hemorrhage, which killed him. This incredible trauma was never thoroughly addressed and healed by my grandmother, and the memory of it was, therefore, passed on to my mother, who was the next baby to come through my grandmother’s womb. The trauma was then passed on to me as it still remained unaddressed and unresolved at the time I was conceived (I was the first through my mother’s womb). This dead baby scenario played itself out repeatedly during my life, even to the extent that one of my babies (Anastasia) also suffered brain trauma. (Footnote 9 at bottom)
2. Incredibly, my grandmother’s labor with the son that was killed by the medical profession lasted 3 days. My labor with Anastasia also lasted 3 days, at the end of which I was handed a dead baby – just like my grandmother.
3. My mother suffered from what is called “haunted womb shock” – a term used to describe the emotional and psychic impact on a child that comes through a womb where there is unresolved loss. My daughter also suffered haunted womb shock as she came through a womb permeated by a series of unresolved losses.
3. My grandmother’s births were completely usurped by the medical profession. My mothers and my first birth were also completely usurped by the technological gods.
4. My grandmother was severely traumatized by the iatrogenically caused death of her son, which trauma was not healed by the time my mother (her next child) was born. Because of this trauma, my grandmother’s maternal capacities were severely compromised and she was unable to experience the neurobiology of love at the birth of mother and did not even recognize my mother as her own child. Likewise, when Anastasia was born (and also when my son was born), I was in such a fear-ridden, grief-stricken state, that the neurobiology of love could not activate and it was difficult for me to recognize my own child.
5. During my third pregnancy which ended in abortion, doctors repeatedly exerted forceful pressure on my womb during sonograms and vaginal exams. This forceful and abusive manhandling of my body repeated itself while I was in the emergency room after Anastasia’s birth. How utterly sad that my poor baby suffered the same abusive fate, with at least one doctor forcefully and violently pushing and pressing on her little belly and chest, supposedly in an effort to make her breathe. It is likely that this type of scenario had played itself out before, in my grandmother’s and/or my mother’s births. At the very least, it is clear that unnecessary force was used on my grandmother’s baby boy.
6. My mother willingly handed over her birthing power to the medical profession, just as her mother did before her. Both women chose to experience medically-managed, drug-drenched labor and technological birth. Neither of them ever questioned medical procedures or techniques. I followed this family heritage during my first three pregnancies, willingly giving away my power to the technocratic gods. However, I caught myself by the time I reached my fourth pregnancy, at which point I started to break free of the spell. By the time Anastasia was born, I was fully ready to own my birthing power, but unfortunately, a lineage of unresolved prenatal and birth trauma prevented me from embodying it.
7. My grandmother gave birth to my mother in a hospital and my mother gave birth to me in a hospital. In both cases, mom and baby were immediately separated after birth (a common hospital practice which leads to terrified infants and grieving mothers) and were denied an opportunity to properly bond. This same trauma played itself out when Anastasia was born. She and I were immediately separated after her birth, and although I was conscious of not wanting this to happen to me and my baby (one of the main reasons I chose home birth), I nevertheless created/attracted this experience due to my unresolved trauma.
8. My grandmother did not/could not breastfeed her children (traumatic birth often interferes with breastfeeding success), and my mother never even tried. My sister never tried to breastfeed either, and although I was deeply desirous of breastfeeding Anastasia, I was never able to put her to my breast because she was attached to machines. I spent several months “bonding” with a breast-pump machine while my daughter spent several months “bonding” with the machines that kept her “alive.”
The above is just a partial list of the insights I gained during my years of birth trauma study. Over time, I gathered enough information to fully understand the impact of prenatal and birth trauma on the human species. This led me to complete a teacher training with Dr. Stephanie Mines so that I could help other birth trauma sufferers access the healing they need.
Because trauma disrupts the electro-magnetic circuitry of the human spirit/body/mind system, I believe subtle energy work (such as Jin Shin) is the most powerfully transformative for the resolution of early shock and trauma. (Footnote 10 at bottom)
There were/are several other things that I found to be very supportive during my healing journey. One of them was learning how to fire-dance. Fire-dancing is something I never would have considered doing while living in New York. However, once I moved to Maui, I found myself absolutely compelled to do it. Fire-dancing gave me a potent outlet to express and move some of the intense emotions I was experiencing. It also enabled me to reconnect and ground in my body and express feminine sensuality. This was an essential part of my journey to wholeness.
Tribal drumming is also a tool that I found incredibly healing and powerful. Drumming literally enabled me to alter my brain chemistry (something I sorely needed to do because of my damaged neuro-physiology) and reunite with my primal instincts and rhythms. Whenever I participated in drum circles (which I still do every week), (Footnote 11 at bottom) I found myself having unabashed moments of sheer joy and ecstasy – emotions which I found very beneficial while working toward the resolution of my trauma. (Footnote 12 at bottom)
Finally, the Anastasia books (http://www.ringingcedars.com), written by Vladimir Megre, were also instrumental in my healing and transformation. I discovered the books sometime during the year 2006 and was blown away by the profound wisdom contained therein, especially as regards conscious conception and conscious procreation. Although I had been studying human sexuality for several decades, and even taught about it in a university setting during the early 1990’s, I never before encountered the quality of information that was being presented to me through the Anastasia books. While reading them, I felt as if my daughter, Anastasia, was speaking to me directly, sharing with me what it means to conceive, gestate, birth and parent a child WITHOUT TRAUMA!!!! This, I believe, was the reason she incarnated – i.e., to help me heal and to prepare me to bring her into this dimension in a way that will enable her to maintain a full-on, conscious connection to source/love throughout her life. Even though I am 53 years old and peri-menopausal, I still believe I am going to have another child and that it will be Anastasia reincarnating in LOVE!
I now offer workshops and teacher trainings as well as private sessions for the healing of birth trauma: Birth of a New Earth Teacher Training and Mentor Program
I also offer a 12-week educational program designed especially for men: The Father's Role During the Childbearing Year
I am busy making television shows and being interviewed for dozens of radio shows regarding hospital birth trauma and its impact on our families, our species, our society, and our entire civilization: Birth of a New Earth Television Show #3 - Parts 1-6
Red Ice Radio Interviews Jeanice Barcelo about the Real Agenda Behind the Protocols of Hospital Birth
I have created a curriculum that can support future parents in healing their past and preparing for conscious conception and gentle birth (my own unique way of bringing my trauma full-circle!): Birth of a New Earth Curriculum for Conscious Procreation
And I am committed to the creation of a school where parents can study-up on how to prepare themselves for conscious procreation and become the best parents ever: International School for Conscious Procreation
My long-term vision involves the creation of communities worldwide that are focused on conscious procreation and parenting: Conscious Birth Settlement, Educational Center, and Center on Maui
Conscious procreation and parenting are the keys to the fulfillment of human love. These things lay the foundation for our children to experience a life filled with love and to enter this dimension with a full awareness of their spiritual nature and capacities.
Our unborn babies are waiting at the gate, asking us to ready ourselves in body, mind and spirit, for their fully-conscious arrivals. For those who are prepared to take the leap, feel free to contact me through this website or by e-mailing (firstname.lastname@example.org).
MAY ALL BABIES BE CONCEIVED, GESTATED AND BIRTHED IN LOVE
MAY ALL BEINGS BE FREE
With love and blessings to all who take the time to read this,
It is the saddest reality, indeed, when human love cannot sustain itself. And the breakdown of love is directly related to the high levels of stress and trauma that many couples are enduring. These patterns of trauma begin in early life, with highly traumatized parents giving birth to highly traumatized children, who carry a blueprint for trauma that follows them throughout their life. Such was the case for Casey and me (and millions of others), and although we had both devised skillful compensatory mechanisms to get ourselves through life (like abusing alcohol and drugs), our love could not survive the onslaught of darkness that kept coming at us as we matured into adulthood.
In pre- and perinatal psychology, there is an understanding that our perception of God is deeply connected to the way we were birthed. Just as our parents seem like God to us when we are small children, so too do those who handle us at birth play the role of God to the incoming soul. When our birth attendants handle us with forcefulness and/or indifference to our sensitivity and vulnerability, we develop a conception of God as uncaring and brutal. This, of course, is further complicated by religion portraying the Judeo-Christian God as angry, vengeful, spiteful and violent.
Because my birth was so traumatizing, and because I was treated with so little love and so much callous indifference when I entered this world, I had developed a strong sense that “God” (i.e., a power outside myself that seemed to have control over my experience) was incredibly harsh and mean-spirited. Thus, it was not surprising to me that God would bless me with pregnancies and then violently take them away. Nor that he would initiate my labor on Mother’s Day to trick me into thinking that I would be gifted with a Mother’s Day birth – only to be let down in the worst way imaginable by not giving birth until two days later, and having my baby be born dead. I had come to expect this type of treatment from God and thus had come to attract/create it over and over again.
Some of them have played themselves out in other areas of my life as well, for example, as in manifesting relationships with abusive men wherein I was dependent on the men for my financial security and could not get away from the abuse because of my financial dependence.
It is worth noting here that, for purposes of my own healing, it was extremely important for me to get myself out of the harsh and chaotic energy of New York (where I had returned two months after Anastasia’s death) and into an environment that felt gentle, supportive, and nurturing. Therefore, when I came to Maui in March of 2000 for what I thought was to be a two-week vacation, I spontaneously made the decision to stay rather than return to New York. I had recently come into a small chunk of money by participating in a gifting circle (which is a story unto itself – to be told at a later date), and that money gave me the courage to remain on Maui and allow my healing to occur in this feminine, nurturing place.
Many of the people who live on Maui refer to the island as “Mother Maui” and, indeed, the island is literally shaped like a woman. When you look at maps of the island you can clearly see the woman’s head, face, neck, breasts and torso.
Significantly, the island across from Maui (Kaho’olawe) is shaped like a fetus, and the body of water between the two islands is called “Alalakeiki,” which means “the weeping child.” (See Footnote 5 below). Legends say that the child is weeping because it has been separated from its mother. (See Footnote 6 below)
Naturally, when I learned of this legend, I felt a deep resonance with it and it confirmed for me that I was, indeed, in the right place to effectuate my healing.
Original Hawaiian place-names (many of which have long been covered up and paved over by the American theft and occupation of Hawaiian land) often tell stories of sexuality, conception, and childbirth, as for example, Hakioawa (a northeastern coastal point on Kaho’olawe) which translates as “an easily broken, fragile, premature infant – believed to be caused by the sour condition of the mother.” In this case, the sour condition of the mother (the earth goddess, Papa/Haumea), seems to have been caused by the father (the sky father, Wakea) cheating on her, and her betraying herself by going to back to him and then conceiving and giving birth to his children (the islands of Maui and Kaho’olawe). The gestation and birth of these islands was not easy for Papa and the legends say she was sick while she gestated Maui and “in great travail” when she gave birth to Kaho’olawe. Papa ultimately cursed and deserted Kaho’olawe, which might explain the island’s harsh existence, including 50 years of bombing by the United States military (who decided to use the island for target practice).
In one Hawaiian story, Maui and Kaho’olawe were once united as a single landmass, but after a battle between two Hawaiian goddesses (Pele and Haumea), the waters rose and they became two separate islands. In this battle, Pele (Hawaiian volcano goddess) was desirous of having a child and she asked Haumea (Hawaiian goddess of childbirth) for help and blessings. Haumea refused to help Pele, believing Pele to be too volatile to make a good mother. Enraged by Haumea’s refusal to bless her with a child, Pele caused earthquakes and volcanic eruptions and Haumea raised the waters to put out Pele’s fire.
For more information about this version of “reality,” see Busting Loose from the Money Game, by Robert Scheinfeld.
It should be noted here that prior to the birth/death of Anastasia, I had relationships with very loving men. Both of my husbands were kind, caring, beautiful souls. It was only after the traumatic episodes with Anastasia, that I began to attract/create abuse from men. It was as if my wiring had short-circuited and this caused me to magnetize/create abuse and mistake it for “love.”
It is important for me to share here a new piece of information that has recently come through.
First, please read the following article, which activated a deep internal knowing within me about the insidious nature of inter-generational trauma (i.e., the process by which children will carry/inherit the unresolved patterns of their parents — unless, of course, their parents have become conscious of the patterns and worked toward resolving them) and how it is connected with traumatic repetition (i.e., unconscious, unresolved trauma will tend to be re-enacted and re-created by the next generation(s) as they attempt to bring the trauma to consciousness and resolve it).
BREASTS IN MOURNING: HOW BOTTLE-FEEDING MIMICS CHILD LOSS IN MOTHER’S BRAINS:
Here’s the insight regarding how inter-generational trauma can play itself out:
My grandmother gave birth to a baby boy that was killed by medical “professionals.” They pulled the baby out with forceps using such force and intensity, they gave him a brain hemorrhage and he died.
It is my belief that my grandmother never really worked through her grief about this loss (blaming herself for having a baby that was “too big” rather than acknowledging the brutality of the doctors and the violence that she and her baby were subjected to during this birth.) Since my grandmother never resolved the loss, and my mother was the next baby through my grandmother’s haunted womb, my mom carried the memories of unresolved grief related to childbirth,which, as I have just discovered, played itself out when she gave birth to her own children. My mom’s “choice” not to breastfeed me (or my sister or brother), was her unconscious way of re-creating the neurobiology of mourning and grief that her mother had experienced in childbirth. Wow! This is so amazing.
My mother, following in the footsteps of her mother, never sought to process or resolve this childbirth grief, so it was passed on to me (as well as her other children).
I re-created the same neurobiology of mourning and grief in childbirth by having several miscarriages (and other tragedies in childbirth) and ultimately giving birth to a full-term, stillborn child.
My sister re-created the grief by “choosing” to have a fully medicalised birth, being induced and c-sectioned, etc. The administering of drugs like pitocin during childbirth — i.e., synthetic oxytocin — virtually guarantees that the neurobiology of love will not activate in a birthing mother since her brain will not produce the natural chemicals of love if/when their synthetic counterparts are introduced into the system. Instead, the neurobiology of grief will activate.
My sister never breastfed her daughter. My brother’s children were never breastfed either.
Wow! The lineage of trauma is amazing.
The good news is…… THE BUCK STOPS WITH ME!!!! I am now conscious of the original wounding which makes it possible for the lineage of trauma to end. From here on out, any children born through me will NOT be condemned to suffer the same wounding.
Blessed are the ones who are willing to heal their family lineage.
Please check out this quote from the article named above, which triggered so much integration for me.
How utterly amazing.
“….According to a new theory being proposed by University of Albany evolutionary psychologist Gordon Gallup and his colleagues, the decision to bottle-feed is tantamount, in the mother’s psyche, to mourning the loss of the child. At least, that’s how a woman’s body seems to respond to the absence of a suckling infant at its breasts in the wake of a successful childbirth. In a soon-to-be-published article in Medical Hypotheses, the authors argue that bottle-feeding simulates the unsettling ancestral condition of an infant’s death:
Opting not to breastfeed precludes and/or brings all of the processes involved in lactation to a halt. For most of human evolution the absence or early cessation of breastfeeding would have been occasioned by miscarriage, loss, or death of a child. We contend, therefore, that at the level of her basic biology a mother’s decision to bottle feed unknowingly simulates child loss…’
I also found cranial sacral therapy very helpful and completed a training with Rebecca Goff, who practices and teaches aquacranial therapy – i.e., cranial sacral therapy in the ocean. http://aquacranial.com
Additionally, I recommend the work of Elena Tonetti (www.birthintobeing.com), who has created a magnificent video entitled “Birth As We Know It” and offers workshops and lectures that are enormously beneficial for the repatterning of birth trauma.
On Maui, we have a weekly drum circle at Little Beach every Sunday night, where dozens of drummers, dancers and fire-dancers gather (as well as hundreds of onlookers) to share their joy and passion. It is one of the most powerfully authentic tribal experiences one can have while spending time on Maui, and it is part of the reason I chose to stay on Maui rather than return to New York.
Swimming in the ocean with dolphins and whales was also extremely beneficial for the reorganization of my brain chemistry, as these beings emit sound waves that alter the neurological impulses of humans. After I moved to Maui, I became an avid ocean swimmer and had many encounters with these incredible beings.
During the early stages of what they call “prenatal care,” I was informed that my pregnancy was “high-risk” and that I would therefore need to allow the underworld gods to subject me to a battery of tests, as well as prodding and probing, in order to ensure that everything was “OK.” This I did, without question, enduring numerous blood and urine tests, as well as repeated sonograms and invasive vaginal exams – all considered “normal” within the realms of technologically-managed birth. In looking back, I am appalled at what I allowed those entities to do to me, my baby, and my body. But in retrospect I can see how the experience prepared me to understand and teach everything that I am sharing today.