Tiny Home Adventures

I’m coming out of the closet. Recently I watched a TED Talk by Ash Beckham called Coming Out of Your Closet. It inspired me to come clean – to confess to my friends and family. Ash is an openly lesbian woman and in her TED talk she shares the story of when she finally came out to her own family and friends. She invites everyone in the audience to come out of their own personal closets: to shed light upon whatever secret that they are just too scared to reveal to others. As I sat there and watched Ash’s speech I thought to myself, “I don’t think this applies to me. I’m not holding on to any secrets. I have always been an open book.” But, over the course of the next few weeks I realized that I was indeed hiding something – that I do have a secret that I am reluctant to share with others.

So here it is… I live in a trailer park. That’s right. It kinda pains me to admit it. Mindy Poor, the girl who got a full-ride to college, etc., etc. (I won’t launch into all of the markers of success that I accumulated during my heyday,) is living in a trailer park. I am not “successful“–at least not according to society’s idea of success.

As is usually the case, an inspirational conversation with my husband Jon got my mind buzzing and inspired me to write this post so that I might fess up. The conversation was about the vast inequality that has taken hold in our society and how in the world we might work to correct the injustice of it all. Jon said something sage about how we need to get away from the “orgy of success” that we all seek to portray about our lives and start communicating honestly with one another about our real problems; then, as a community, we might seek to lift one another up. It reminded me of recent research which shows that Facebook contributes to depression in its users. The apparent cause of the depression is that people tend to post the highlights of their lives and none of the low points. If you compare your life to the idealized lives of your Facebook friends, you and your life are practically bound to fall short of expectation. This contributes to a distorted perception of reality.

So… here is the truth about me… I live in a teeny tiny home on wheels. Together with my husband Jon and our two kids I live in a 1955 Spartan Royal Manor travel trailer (Firefly the ’55). Our mobile home is 8 feet wide and 35 feet long for a total of about 280 square feet of living space. Do you think that we’re crazy??

If so, you may be right. Living in such a small space can be difficult. We don’t plan on living in the Spartan forever, but the term ‘trailer trash’ currently applies to us, and I can feel and see the repercussions it has as it pops into the heads of our friends and family during conversations. Trailer trash–what a heinous phrase–as if those who are poor, or who have chosen to live well within their means to improve their station in life, or who simply wish to live modestly are trash. Gross. Having lived in a few different trailer parks now and having gotten to know the kind, modest, neighborly people who live in them I know how very off-the-mark this term truly is. Undoubtedly, being seen as trailer trash has been an interesting experience. Materialism holds such sway in our society that Jon and I are made to feel uncomfortable about our hard-made decisions as a family. But, this is where we are right now in our lives and it is helping us get closer to our long-term goals so we try to ignore these judgements from others as well as the materialistic weaknesses in ourselves.

I am grateful for all of the things that living in a travel trailer in a trailer park has taught me. It has been an inspiring and humbling experience. In case you are wondering how we ended up where we are now… I will tell you! First of all, I might never have lived in a home as tiny as a travel trailer if it weren’t for Jon; he is always challenging me to ignore the status quo so that we can carve out our own path in life which is a big part of why I love him. I am proud to have a partner who inspires me to look at life a little differently. We live in a travel trailer for many reasons: partly because it is the most financially viable option right now but also because we believe in walking lightly on the Earth and living modestly, and because we plan to do something big with these vintage gems one day. Jon and I push one another to walk the walk and not just talk the talk and for us that means living in a tiny home rather than just espousing the merits of the tiny home movement. We make a good problem-solving team, which definitely helps considering that we have chosen to take a path that is much less traveled. So… if it weren’t for Jon I might never have lived in a travel trailer and a life-long passion for the tiny home movement and small-space design may have never been ignited in me. Thank you Jon!

Jon and my adventures in small-space living began in 2009, a year when a lot of people were forced to make some major life adjustments. Jon had just finished grad school with a Master’s in Sociology at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana. As most of you probably remember, the job market was bad… really bad. I was studying for the GRE (planning to apply to grad school) and Jon was trying in vain to get a job in his field. Due to some unpleasant circumstances we agreed that we had to leave Bloomington, job or no job. We decided to try our luck in Austin, Texas which purportedly had a great job market. There was one issue: Austin was a high rent city. We had some savings and we opted to invest in a 1986 32-S Avion travel trailer as our new home.

I remember well the moment that we decided to buy the trailer (sight unseen) for $8500 on eBay. We both kept looking at each other with CRAZY EYES that said “What the did we just do? Holy *@#%!” We went to the bank and took out $8,500 in cash. Neither of us had ever held so much cash in our hands in our lives. It felt weird. And scary. We bought the trailer from an older couple who had used it for vacations. They obviously took pity on us when they learned that we planned to live out of it and graciously offered to transport the trailer to the space we had chosen to move it to in Austin. What a great trailer it turned out to be!

There were a number of trailer parks on the outskirts of Austin and the rent was cheap–only $325 a month. We moved around a bit before we found the right place to park our Avion. The great thing was that it only took about an hour to prepare for each move! We met a lot of characters that year and got to know a lot of Austin due to our park hopping. Ultimately we made the right decision by living in the trailer rather than getting locked into an expensive year-long lease, because we did not have luck finding decent jobs in Austin. After less than a year in Austin–OPA!–we found out that we were expecting. We did not think that raising a baby in a travel trailer was a good idea. In fact, we didn’t even consider it! We chose to leave Austin to move closer to Jon’s family in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

We had many fun plans and ideas for the Avion, but we were so broke at that time that we never really had the opportunity to implement them. We talked then about a different kind of trailer park, a tiny home/trailer neighborhood where the owners owned not only their homes, but the land that they lived on. As the zoning laws stand now tiny home owners and trailer owners have little choice but to live under a usually substandard park’s rental agreement with the possibility that one day they will be told that they need to pack up and find another home elsewhere. This is a major problem for the owners of older manufactured homes because the cost of moving the older homes often outweighs the value of the home itself. Although these homes may have little monetary value, many of the people who live in them have done so for decades. If you call a place home then it can’t be worthless. I think that it would be great if the minimum size requirement for homes that most municipalities have would just disappear. People should be free to live as modestly as they choose.

We ended up selling our Avion in the end for $9,000 to a married couple in their 50s from Las Vegas who were previously employed in the restaurant business. They had lost pretty much everything after the economic downturn, including their house to foreclosure, and were using what was left of their life savings to buy the trailer and try their luck in Austin. They had family in the area and were planning to live on their family’s land. I can’t imagine how that must have been; hopefully everything worked out for them.

It took 3 years and two crappy, overpriced rental experiences to prompt us to reconsider the tiny home lifestyle. This time around we had a toddler and were expecting another child! We were moving to San Francisco and after searching for housing online, it appeared that inevitably our housing expenses were soon to increase three-fold. Things were going alright for us at this time; Jon was on a stable career path and our finances were stabilizing as well. I would not say though that we were yet in the clear from the downward spiral that was 2008-2009. The thought of paying $1500-$2000 a month in rent was frightening and threatened to overturn the stability that we had worked so hard for. Since leaving Austin we had never stopped dreaming about vintage trailers and the possibility of creating a vintage trailer/tiny home oasis one day, so we were always on the look-out for that first trailer that would launch our fleet. Jon is a real Craigslist addict. He rarely ever buys anything, but he is always looking. He convinced me to buy a 32′ 1973 Airstream Sovereign Land Yacht under the expectation that we would live in it for a couple of months while we looked for housing.

I don’t know if Jon ever planned to move out of the Airstream while in San Francisco, but after we were there for about a month he started gently easing me into the idea of staying in the Airstream for a while. I was not very receptive to the idea at first. But, we had lucked out by being given a spot with a decent, private, albeit small back yard space, we were within walking distance of the BART, and Jon’s commute was only 25 minutes–not bad for the Bay Area. I eventually agreed that there wasn’t a much better alternative and resolved to use our time in San Francisco as an experiment in small-space living and design. The Airstream was in rough shape when we bought it and during the almost full year that we lived in it we made a number of improvements.

Airstream Tiny Home

I don’t intend to glorify life in the Airstream. For a couple with one kid it is certainly doable. For a single person or a couple committed to small-space living it could be ideal. But, after our son Oliver was born it quickly became clear that the Airstream was a bit too small for us. We had torn everything but the toilet out of the bathroom so that we could remodel it which was pretty interesting. Luckily the park had bathroom and shower facilities which were cleaned daily. If you have ever lived in a space that is being worked on try now to imagine living in a trailer that is being worked on. Not especially easy for a mama with a newborn and a toddler to take care of!

But… at the same time I loved that tiny home on wheels with its vista view skylights! On the evening that a meteorite blazed across the night sky and landed in the Pacific Ocean, Jon was actually able to watch it happen while sitting in his chair inside the Airstream and gazing through the vista view windows. I gave birth to my son inside that Airstream–of course I have some sentimental feelings for it. You can read my birth story here. My designer’s mind was always churning with the small-space possibilities that I might implement in that teeny but magical space.

Airstream interior

Airstream bathroom remodel       Airstream bathroom remodel2

However, we both agreed that the Airstream was too small. But, San Francisco rent was still not a feasible option for us. So… we bought Firefly the ’55! Then Jon got offered a job with the UofO in Eugene, Oregon. The cost and logistics of moving both trailers was too much for us and we prepared the Airstream to be sold.

When it came time to sell the Airstream it was  a much different trailer than the one we had purchased a year earlier. We were sad to see it go, and Jon told the guy who purchased it about how our son had been born inside. A month after Spencer drove it away to begin its new journey as a tiny home on-the-go he contacted us to ask our son’s name; he wanted to name the Airstream after him. I hope that Oliver is out there somewhere being loved and appreciated.

That brings us to present day and our journey in small-space living continues. We are settling into our new home-town of Eugene, Oregon, we are living in our vintage trailer (Firefly the ’55 – a seriously awesome trailer built by Spartan Aircraft Company after the war), and we are working towards our dreams which center around tiny homes as a vocation, as a lifestyle, and as an advocacy cause–I will share more about our vision with you all in my next post, so stay tuned! We currently pay a third of what we would normally be paying in rent and our electric bill per month averages out to only about $20! Despite all of our struggles, at the end of the day the truth is that I love tiny homes! I think that more people should live in them. These are interesting times in our lives as a family. We struggle, but we have passion, a wee bit of vision, and most of the time it feels worth it. 🙂

What is Astrology?

Most people have a very limited understanding of astrology. At the same time, most people are curious about astrology. Some call it a science, some call it a pseudo-science, some say it is an art form.  Most astrologers prefer to call it an art form. We astrologers have to tread lightly. We have to be careful and conscious of our word choices. This is because astrology has been stigmatized. It has been dumbed down and fed to the public in an insincere manner to make money.

Nearly all of us know what sign the Sun was in at the moment of our birth. The Sun changes signs approximately every month on around the 19th, 20th, or 21st of the month. Those born from March 21st to April 19th were born with the Sun in Aries, those born from April 20th to May 20th were born with the Sun in Taurus, so on and and so forth. To a lot of people that is all that astrology is. Many people believe that astrology simply categorizes people into 12 signs and that is the whole of it. I certainly cannot blame these people for having their doubts about such a simplistic practice. Of course, astrology is far more developed than that.

In order to talk about astrology you have to first talk about archetypes. Archetypal energy is energy which is pure in its simplistic nature. It encompasses a recurrent theme in human existence, a primordial need which evolves into a way of being. Despite being rudimentary, archetypes are multi-fasceted in their manifestation and are beyond definition. To understand archetypes as fully as we can, we have to observe them at work within the complex characters we encounter in our lives each and every day. We also have to recognize them and study them within our mythology.

A character that we all know well from modern-day mythology is Darth Vader. Darth Vader is a nearly pure example of the archetypal Scorpio energy–in both its positive manifestation and its negative manifestation. As a child Vader is intense, driven, able to delve deeply into his pursuits. As Vader grows he loves with fierce passion and intensity and mourns with just as fierce of intensity. He needs, above all else, to be in control of his life. His inability to protect the people he loves eviscerates him. In order to protect himself from the intensity of his emotions, from the extreme depth at which he is able to experience pain, he seeks control through his greatest strength and his greatest weakness: POWER. Once he gets a taste of this power he has gone to the dark side. This is Scorpio.

The vast majority of us to do not come even close to a pure model of an archetype. We are each a mixture. Astrology is the analysis of the position of the celestial bodies, mainly planets, at a given moment in time, generally at the moment of a person’s birth. The natal chart maps the Sun, the Moon and the planets on a circular chart in the shape of a wagon wheel with twelve slices, or houses of influence.  The twelve signs of the zodiac are charted as well and the houses fall under the influence of different signs depending on the time of day and the place in which the event or birth takes place. Mathematically, the number of possible combinations within the natal chart is endless. Two people born on the same day in the same place but at different times will still have quite different lives as projected by the chart.

Here is my natal chart:

Natal Chart

Does it mean anything to you? Don’t feel bad if it doesn’t. You can probably guess which symbol represents the Moon, and most of us are familiar with the symbols for Mars and Venus (they are oftentimes used to represent male and female.)

There is a wealth of information available to the trained eye in this chart. This simple chart will never cease to reveal new insights to me. I am sure that when I am in my 80s there will still be much to discover here. My natal chart, or horoscope, is like a comforting friend. It makes me more aware of both my strengths and my weaknesses, and it reassures me that it is okay to have both.

Don’t ask me how astrology works. I don’t know. What I do know is that the more I study and practice it, the more I am convinced of its validity. The proof of the pudding is in the eating!

On a spiritual level, through the lens of an astrologer, I imagine birth as a journey of the soul. Of course, not all astrologer’s believe in the existence of the soul–and belief isn’t exactly the word I would use to describe my views on life, the Universe, and the powers that be. I know that the truth is beyond my ability to comprehend. I am of the opinion that there are forces at work in the world that we have no instruments or methods with which to measure or detect. Call these forces God, call them the metaphysical, call them what you like. It doesn’t matter to me. In my mind the soul is like a light beam that begins its journey from somewhere–a center point or nucleus from which all energy and life originates and returns to. This cosmic nucleus is believed to exist in many forms and has many names. Some call it heaven, some call it Zion, some Elysium, some Nirvana. Some believe that it takes the form, energetically, of a lotus flower. Some believe that it is nowhere and everywhere at the same time. I have no idea really, but I do know that I gravitate toward the idea that our souls are a type of energy.

I like the idea that all energy is borrowed and one day we will have to give it back. In my mind’s eye, when we die not only do our physical bodies decompose and provide nourishment for the worms and the plants, but our soul energy also goes back to its source, melding with the infinite. From ashes to ashes, from dust to dust, from light to light so to speak. It is interesting to think about the experience of being born in comparison to what we know about death. The vision of the ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ that has been recounted numerous times from near-death experiences can easily be compared to the emergence of the child from the womb through the birth canal and into the bright light of earthly existence.

Astrologically speaking, one might envision the journey of the soul at birth as the journey of a ray of sunshine. On its way down to Earth that ray would pass through the atmosphere, its light bouncing off the gases of the ozone, it might beam its light through a number of clouds, each one imparting a bit of its own nature and energy upon the sun ray until it finally reaches the Earth where it’s now wholly unique energy is absorbed by a plant, or a rock, or a person. Now, imagine that the gases of the ozone are planets, and the clouds are the energy fields ruled by the signs of the Zodiac. This analogy isn’t perfect, but it is kind of nice to imagine it that way I think.

In my humble opinion, our task here on this Earth is to be true to who we are, to love who we are, and to love our fellow man–because, while we are all different we truly are one and the same. Astrology can help us with this.

If we do this I believe that the Earth will vibrate at a higher frequency. The frequency of LOVE.


If you are interested in having a professional astrological consultation I would love to hear from you.

Give me a call at: 650.731.6037

Signing off,


I want my children to know…

My mother died when I was a baby. She left me and my three sisters when I  was 4 months old. Growing up I had one wallet-sized photo of her. That is all. Her shirt was stained and she looked tired. She was a mother.

I became a mother when I was 26 years old. As I held my infant daughter in my arms and nursed her from my breast I thought often about the mother I lost. When my daughter reached 4 months in age I thought, “This is when I lost her.” When she turned one and a half I thought, “This is when Patrice lost her.” As she neared three years old I thought, “This is when Elysia lost her.” It was hard to imagine the devastation my daughter would have experienced if I were to have suddenly disappeared from her life at these ages. It made the tragedy even more real than it already was. I knew in those intimate moments when my baby lay curled up next to me in the bed, tucked into the protective curve of my body, that I had never been loved so deeply by anyone. That I never would be. It hurt. But,at the same time I was so thankful that I had been given the opportunity to experience this much love in my life. Now I have two beautiful babies and a loving, caring husband, and my days are defined by love.

Newborn Oliver    Chani Newborn

I never used to fear death. Now I do. I don’t want to leave my children. If something does happen to me I don’t want them to be left with only pictures. I want my children to know…

I love you! I love you! I love you!! I’ve said it thousands of times and I will say it a million more if I get the chance. I want you to grow up knowing that you are perfect in your imperfection; that there is nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you. Thank you for the incredible, life-affirming gift of loving you! I am no longer just Mindy I am Chani and Oliver’s mom. It took some time to adjust to, but I didn’t lose my identity when I became a mother…  I found it.

The Golden Rule is truly golden. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. When interacting with others you should stop and ask yourself if you would like it if someone were to do the same to you. Of course, while the Golden Rule is golden, it is not perfect. We are not all alike–something that you would like to have done to you may very well be something someone else would hate–but, the Golden Rule is still a good guide to live by.

The Earth is more than your mother. It was so amazing to look at you during your infancy, when you were exclusively breastfed, and to think, “Wow!! Everything that you are has first passed through me! My body gave you life.” The Earth does this for each and every one of us, and not just for 15 months, for our whole lives!! If that doesn’t deserve love, respect, awe, and conscious care I don’t know what does.

There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being  superior to your former self. This is a quote from Ernest Hemmingway and I think that it is as golden as the Golden Rule. Unfortunately, it seems that many people choose to live their lives trying to prove themselves to be better than others. They seek to prove this in a variety of ways; through credentials, through possessions, and through forceful displays of superior strength and power. I seriously doubt that any of this brings true fulfillment. Competition is not the salt of life. The only person you need to compete with is yourself. Set your sights high, but the goal should be personal growth not glory.

You should eat your veggies! I want you both to live long, healthy lives. A salad a day will definitely help you get there (as long as you stay away from those nasty pre-made dressings.) Here are some super veggies that I would love to see become staples in your diet: dark leafy greens like collard greens, spinach, kale, and chard, cruciferous veggies like cabbage, and brussel sprouts, root veggies like beets, carrots, potatoes and turnips, and fruit-veggies like squash, tomatoes and avocados. Hopefully I won’t need to coerce you into eating fresh fruits!

Never underestimate the power of conscious breath. I brought you into this world with the help of conscious breathing. When I take the time to meditate and focus on my breath I am a smarter, healthier, happier, more loving, and more intuitive person. Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it!

Money is no substitute for love.  Many people, in seeking to fill a void in their hearts, convince themselves that if they only made more money and had nicer things, they would be happy. I suppose this is an easier path towards happiness to choose–there is no need to put your heart on the line. The problem is that this path doesn’t actually lead to happiness. True happiness can only be experienced when the heart-soul is flooded with the light of connection–LOVE.

Different is good. To me being different means thinking for yourself and being creative. Being different is not always easy. I see around me a world largely divided into two opposing sides. The decisions in this arena are not that complicated–you simply need to choose which team you are on and let the talking heads be your guides. It takes real courage to look deep inside and decide where you really, truly stand. If more people had this type of courage the world would seem more like a giant spider web–with all of the parts working together to make a whole–than a football field with each team poised at the center line ready to duke it out. Be brave. Be yourselves.



I Gave Birth In An Airstream: My Story of Homebirth and Hypnosis

AirstreamIn the months leading up to the birth of our son, whenever my husband or I told friends, family members, and neighbors that we were planning a homebirth in our ultra-tiny home–a 31 foot 1973 Airstream Sovereign travel trailer–we were met with more than a few raised eyebrows and perhaps carefully disguised pity.

My husband, Jon and I have always done things a little differently. We understand that a family of four living in a 250 square foot Airstream is not exactly the American Dream. We are okay with that.

As Jon and I navigated much uncertainty in the aftermath of the economic downturn we sought to find a place that we could ultimately call home. We moved from Bloomington, Indiana to Austin, Texas to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to Fresno, California and now find ourselves in the San Francisco Bay area. During all of that moving about we came to realize that the size of our living space did not directly relate to the quality of our lives. Or rather, it was the opposite of what you might expect. The smaller our indoor living space was the happier we were!! The smaller the space the easier it was to manage and maintain. The smaller the space the more time we spent outdoors. Much like in poetry where the limitations imposed by a rhyme scheme feed into the creativity of the writing process, the limitations imposed by our small home fed into the creativity of our living situation. Unlike apartments and homes that we have rented, the Airstream is ours and we can work to improve it. That sense of ownership adds much satisfaction to our lives. Ownership transforms our living space into creative space. We wanted to bring our son into this world in a place that was alive and well loved.

My birthing time began at around 1:00AM. I awoke to mild, menstrual-type cramps, and as I lay awake I realized that these sensations were coming and going at regular intervals. My husband stirred in his sleep. I told him that I didn’t think he would be going in to work the next morning. I dozed in and out of sleep as my birthing waves, or contractions, increased in intensity. By 2:00AM I was sure that my birthing time had begun. I gazed at my sleeping daughter and husband, and looked up at the night sky through the vista view skylights of our Airstream. The crescent moon was waxing and Mars shone through the darkness. I smiled softly to myself at the perfection of it all, overjoyed with feelings of love for my family and our tiny home.

Although this would be my first homebirth, it was my second birth using hypnosis for childbirth, and my hypnobirthing training was deeply ingrained in my conscious and subconscious mind. I knew that all I had to do was relax, breathe, and allow myself to open up, and that my wonderful body would take care of the rest. My husband stirred once again and I jubilantly told him, “This is going to be a great birth!” We timed the intervals between my birthing waves – 15 minutes apart. We rolled over and tried to get a little sleep.

Sometime after 4:00 AM I decided to get out of bed. My birthing waves were still easily manageable and were coming about every 12 minutes. I lay down on the futon where I planned to give birth and simply continued to focus on my breathing, allowing my body to open up with each pressure wave.

At 5:00 AM I called my family members in the Midwest as they were starting their workdays and let them know that my son was on his way. I gave my mom the news as her Kindergarten students poured into the classroom. Needless to say, everyone was excited that my son would be here soon!

I waited another hour to call my midwife, Maria Iorillo. I told Maria that I didn’t need her to come right away; that the birth seemed to be progressing slowly and gently. My birthing waves were spaced 10 minutes apart.

My in-laws had flown out from Pittsburgh, PA to help us with our 3-year-old daughter Chani. We made arrangements with them to come pick her up and take care of her during the birth. I delayed calling them with the news and decided to let everyone continue to sleep. I began to listen to my Hypnobabies hypnobirthing tracks, starting off with a deep relaxation session.

At 7:30AM I gave my mother-in-law a call. She was so excited to hear that her grandson would be born that day! I told her that things were moving along slowly, but that my daughter would probably be waking soon and it would be best if they were already here by the time she woke up so that I could continue with my hypnosis undisturbed.

My midwife called to see how things were progressing. I told her I didn’t need her to come yet.

I was so deep in my hypnosis practice that I barely noticed when my in-laws arrived to pick up my daughter. They got her dressed and out of the trailer without so much as a peep– quite an amazing feat! I brought myself out of hypnosis and spoke to my mother-in-law, Barb, as she gathered the last few toys and snacks she would need to take care of my daughter. Barb is an extremely loving woman, generous and devoted to her family. It was comforting to know that my little girl would be having a fun day in the doting care of her grandparents.

It was at this point that I switched to the Hypnobabies track Your Birth Guide: Easy First Stage. I believe that the visualizations I was led to imagine in this session sped up the pace of my birth significantly. I envisioned my cervix as a glowing, golden ring and silently repeated to myself the words, “Open. Open.” I allowed the words and images to penetrate the depths of my psyche, and with each pressure wave I felt the powerful embrace of a “big warm hug” envelope my uterus. The hug began at the top of my uterus and passed like a tidal wave down to my cervix. When it reached my cervix I silently said to myself, “Open. Open.”  I imagined my cervix opening. I felt my cervix opening. It suddenly dawned on me that my birthing waves were very close together now and quite intense. I brought myself into a wakeful state of hypnosis and told Jon to call Maria and to tell her to come quickly. It was 9:30AM. Maria was ready and waiting for our call. She arrived at 9:45AM.

As Maria made her way to our trailer Jon prepared the bed in case I decided to birth in the bedroom. He laid down the afterbirth sheets followed by a tarp and finally covered all with a fitted birth sheet. I waited until my next birthing wave passed and then moved onto the bed so that he could prepare the futon in similar fashion.

When Maria arrived I was still birthing on the bed. She came over to ask me how I was doing as a powerful pressure wave coursed through my body. I silently held a finger up to her to indicate that I would answer her once the wave had passed. She went about readying her supplies as I continued to lie on my side, enveloped in intense pressure waves. At the climax of two successive waves of pressure I felt my cervix open up considerably– a glowing ring of fire spreading thin to allow new life to pass through. I waited for the waves to pass and pulled myself up out of bed. It was time to move to the futon. I knew that the urge to push would be upon me any moment now.

I made my way over to the futon in a controlled but mobile state of hypnosis and lay down on my left side. I gave birth to my daughter in this same position. Side-lying birth is gentle on the perineum and I experienced no tearing during the birth of my daughter. Soon after I lay down I felt the compelling urge to bear down. I was still fully clothed. I moaned, “Pants off!” and Jon and Maria helped me strip them off. Following Maria’s instruction I propped my right leg up on the back of the futon. Moments after I began to push my membranes burst in a climactic POP! Maria was caught in the line of fire, but handled it with grace and humor. She later told Jon and I that soon after I opened my legs she was able to see my son’s head crowning!

I moaned my son from my body, mostly softly, but at times loudly! I moaned, “Aaaaahhh! AAAAAHHHHHH!” When Maria told me that his head was visible I reached down and felt the slippery, downy mound as it descended my birth canal. I was overcome with joy and determination. My son would be here soon! I would make sure of that! I moaned a roaring “AAAHHH!!!” and bore down hard. Maria cautioned me to slow down and to gently breathe the baby out. I listened to her. I stopped pushing and let Oliver come into the world at his own pace. A few more controlled breaths and his head was out. I gave a light push to help move his shoulders through and felt the rest of his body slip easily out. Maria told me to reach down and catch my son and took a step back to allow me to lift my son up and onto my chest. Oliver was here! It was 10:23AM.

Retouched Photo1

Nothing compares to cradling your child upon your chest after giving birth as they nuzzle their perfect little head into your breasts, pressing against you as though trying to squeeze back inside. You can’t help but wonder if they know that it was you who carried them throughout all of these nine months as they open their eyes and squint through the overwhelming brightness to look upon your face. You wonder if the word “mother” might somehow already have significance to this tiny person who has no words.

I have found nothing in life that elicits the amazement and wonderment of giving birth. Not even the awesome spectacle of untouched nature can compare. Creating a unique little person and then bringing them into the world is such a powerful experience that it is almost beyond belief. When I gaze upon my children, a part of me never ceases to view their existence as simply surreal.

Oliver Birth

Maria stayed with us for a few hours after the birth. She walked us through her evaluation of Oliver’s health; demonstrating and explaining to us all of the ways that he was as healthy as an ox. His one and five minute APGAR scores were 9 and 10 respectively. She periodically probed my uterus to make sure that it was contracting normally and that my bleeding was under control. I had minimal bleeding and there was no reason for her to stay with us for long.

Once Maria left Jon called his parents and they brought our daughter home to meet her baby brother for the first time. Barb helped Chani cradle her little brother in her arms. Her eyes lit up in wonderment! This was the way that I had imagined this special, unforgettable moment—at home in the quiet intimacy of family.


Barb and Jim offered to take Chani to the “hotel castle” for the night. Jon and I could not refuse the chance to get some much-needed rest. Once we were alone Jon held Oliver for me and I retreated to the bedroom, which is not much more than a king-size bed. I sprawled out on the bed, stretching my arms and legs out as far and wide as they would reach, and relished in the ability to lie flat on my back—a luxury pregnant women are deprived of for many months. As I lay there in the dreamy light of the setting sun it began to rain. I listened to the drops of rain drumming on the thin metal shell of our tiny home and watched them silently pool on the panes of our skylights. I could not have been happier or more thankful to be at home in the comfort of our Airstream.