Pictured: Dany, her family, and midwife after giving birth to baby Ali’i. Her living room turned into a sacred ceremonial site for birthing her baby. Her walls covered with art that Dany and her son, Apollo, did a week prior for her husband, Devyn’s, experimental film.

At 39 weeks, things happened so fast. Leading up to my home birth, I patiently waited for signs of early labor.

With subtle anxiety, I knew I had to mentally welcome my natural, unmedicated birth sooner or later. As I arrived to my prenatal appointment I felt curious to know how soon baby three would come and okayed to a cervical check. I only measured half a centimeter. What I didn’t expect was to go into full, precipitous labor shortly after. I left my appointment instantly feeling contractions; dull aches and cramps along my lower abdomen.

I brought home a few more ceremonial pieces that would add to my birth. My intention was to have a nourishing spread of delicious food, a sacred altar, fresh florals, and low light — a night full of ritual. These little pieces mattered to me, as I wanted to bring in more romance into the space. Not too long after settling at home, my contractions started to increase like rapid fire. I was brought to my knees and I watched my daughter mimic all my movements. When I crawled, she crawled. Every time I had a moment of despair, she would kiss me while I was curled up on the floor. If this wasn’t healing for me, I don’t know what was — a true labor of love!

My home was almost perfect for me to birth in — my virgo rising kicked into full gear as I noticed all things out of place. Devyn did his best to tidy up as he understood what was happening. Little did I realize, all of that would be thrown out the window when I’d push out my baby. I guess I felt like having a clean and organized home was my one way of still holding onto control.

Eventually, my living room slowly morphed into a ceremony site — with lit candles, florals on the floor, and an open space to labor.

I quickly realized this labor experience needed to be just me and my loving partner. I had our soul sister help curate the energy of the space and take my daughter to our neighbor, so she could be watched with Apollo.

“Wild Mama. Primal Mama. Rooted in the depths of her womb, an extension of the Earth’s womb. No one is safe from her grasp. The same hands that nurture and feed her young babe will tear the masculine apart in the most loving, visceral way. Be prepared or stay clear.”

— Sistren Soma | A channeled message from Paulina as she heard about Dany's labor.

I found my way into the bathtub, with a Quan Yin altar, dimmed lights, incense, and a Ganesh painting present. While the hot water soothed my pain, the internal shocks electrified my body, activating every cell within me. Honestly, I felt like a mermaid gone mad during those under-water contractions. I resonated with being a siren who would moan and seduce my husband with my labor cries.

Devyn came to my side for every contraction and helped bring me back to myself. There were moments I would mentally spiral, and in that, we would lock eyes while I surrendered to my pain. As I would intuitively contort and move my body, I felt so animalistic, glaring into Devyn’s eyes and clawing him when I couldn’t handle it any longer. Something took over me and I started to have out-of-body experiences— Devyn continuing to ground me with his touch, words, and energy. This brought us deeper in love and in trust; allowing us to enter a new level of expansion together. Devyn witnessed me in my most primal, raw state, and its safe to say he’s seen all sides of me.

After 3.5 hours, my midwife arrived and led me straight to the living room. A few more contractions while on the couch, I begged her to help me and in response, she reminded me that I didn’t need any help. She checked my cervix, and to my surprise, I was 9cm dilated. Devyn and I both locked eyes in shock and knew it was go time. My water broke not too long after, and we soon entered a vortex!

What felt like an exorcism (or even a sacrifice), was me going through the motions of transitioning. As I rocked naked on hands and knees, I eventually found myself on my back screaming and cursing. I felt my chest getting ripped open, like a part of me wanted to escape my physical body, awhile my baby traversing home. My doula arrived and gracefully landed beside me. “You’re doing it,” was what I recalled her saying to me while I was in my trance-like state of labor. Once my baby was ready to enter earthside, I was guided to breathe and fell into deep trust. I pushed when I needed to, paused when I needed to, and felt a head full of hair as I reached down to welcome our newest member to my family. I felt pure bliss and oxytocin rushing through me as I pulled my baby out.

In reflection, I held my body as an altar, a temple, and the vessel that grew and gave birth to my baby. I was able to embrace the rawest side of myself, call in my ancestors, and remember that women before me have done this together naturally for centuries. A ceremony.

The moment my baby arrived, I fell into a state of ecstasy — with no drugs, no nothing — just me having my own ritualistic experience. It was exactly the ceremony of birth that I wanted and needed. To choose this conscious pain was the biggest thing I’ve ever done.