A Winter's child by Bodhi Priti 

 

When I first heard about Lotus birth I had never really contemplated the subject of birth before. As l sat and listened to the possibilities of what the birth process could hold the words fell on me not unlike the first experiences of a new born baby. It became an imprint and a map of future potential. So when my partner and l were pregnant with our first child it was clear to us that all being well, we would choose a lotus birth. I had prepared myself, as much as one can for the unknown, with a great deal of body work and inner work, in the company of women experienced in these realms. My body swelled and my baby's time inside me, drew to a close. 

It had been a still winter's day, the day of her birth. l had gently laboured from morning until afternoon, as l pottered around home doing my final bit of nesting. The midwives arrived and as the evening settled in, so too did the labour. Shortly after l sank into the warm water of the tub, my waters broke and something like a tornado exploded in me. She came quickly, with a speed that was unexpected into the water and into her father's hands... this beautiful perfect being. I stood a little while after and the full, red, blood filled placenta slipped out. We caught it and placed it into a large ceramic bowl and with help, we left the tub. 

Once warm and dry, we three lay together. The midwives faded into the background as our new family was cradled into the night. She slept, we watched and together we melted into a deep stillness and silence that was to last three days. It was if we were cocooned in a bubble and I felt as if I were expanded to its very limits. Time stood still. As Il look back now I see how full of reverence and sacredness it was, and yet so simple. I have since come to see that one of the most striking qualities that l have noticed about lotus births is an absence of "things to do", less doing more being. 

During the time that her cord was attached, our life centred around the bed. We moved her very little, instead preferring to attend to her where she lay; I would often simply shift myself around to lay beside her and feed her on each breast. After the first twenty four hours, the placenta had drained and we began to lay it in a bed of Celtic sea salt, above and below. By the end of the second day it had begun to dry out and the umbilical cord was quite stiff On the third day she caught her cord between her toes and tugged at it, as she had done a day earlier when I anxiously moved to untangle it. This time I watched aware that my anxiety was no doubt related to the loss of my own umbilical cord and I breathed. The cord came away and the pink new skin of her belly button was revealed. A first cry emerged as her lips and mouth were searching. Out of the stillness she came, with a large voice and a voracious appetite.