In the hush of a winter night, Lori gave birth to her twin daughters—one breech, both born at home, without interventions, midwives, or machines. But this radiant moment, full of ceremony and spiritual affirmation, came not without its shadows. It was the culmination of a transformative path shaped by loss, heartbreak, ancestral reconnection, and the healing power of trusting her own body.
Lori’s story is not just about birth. It’s about reclaiming what was taken, rebuilding trust after trauma, and allowing grief to become a sacred teacher.
The Initiation: Miscarriage and a Cesarean That Changed Everything
Lori’s path to motherhood began with loss. Her first pregnancy ended in miscarriage—the same night her niece, born with anencephaly, passed away. Holding grief in both hands, Lori quietly endured, barely noticed amid the swirl of familial sorrow.
Months later, pregnant again, Lori pursued a birth center delivery. She trusted midwives, but the birth quickly became a cascade of interventions—ultrasounds, labor checks, cervical swelling, ruptured membranes—culminating in a hospital transfer and cesarean. Though grateful her baby was healthy, Lori walked out of that hospital with a resolve: “I’m never having a C-section again.”
It wasn’t just disappointment in the outcome—it was the realization that she had relinquished power she didn’t know she had.
Reclaiming Birth Through Freebirth
When Lori conceived again, she turned inward. She immersed herself in research, discovering physiological birth and stories of women who birthed in sovereignty. Freebirth called to her—not because it was easy, but because it resonated deeply.
Despite her husband’s initial hesitation, Lori stood firm. “This is what I’m doing. You can be here or not.” He eventually came around, and her second child, Juliet, was born at home, in water, breech.
But Juliet did not stay.
She arrived quietly, colorless, her spirit already slipping away. Lori—a nurse trained in emergency care—performed CPR as first responders arrived. Juliet was rushed to the hospital, stabilized, and airlifted. Later, in the neonatal ICU, Lori and her husband made the heartbreaking decision to remove life support.
They held Juliet, sang to her, and said goodbye.
When Grief Becomes a Teacher
Juliet’s death fractured Lori’s world—but not her spirit. Supported by her cousin and her partner, she grieved deeply, cocooned in ceremony and postpartum care. “I felt like a mother had to die in me,” she said, “and a new one had to be born.”
Their loss changed everything. It deepened their communication. It restructured their community. It reshaped their vision for future births. When the time came to conceive again, Lori and her husband welcomed spirit into the process, lighting candles and inviting in new life through conscious conception.
Trusting Again: A Wild Pregnancy with Spirit at the Center
This time, the pregnancy felt different. Lori declined all formal prenatal care, embracing a “wild pregnancy” guided by intuition, not protocol. The signs were there early—owls dancing in the trees, twin whales breaching the ocean’s surface, two hiccups at once within her womb. She suspected twins, but chose not to confirm it.
“I listened to my body. I rested when I was tired. I ate like I was feeding more than one. I talked to my babies every day.”
With support from her cousin and remote guidance from midwife Sophia, Lori moved through pregnancy as a ceremony of trust. Her previous births had taught her what to fear—and what to release.
Birth As Healing: A Twin Freebirth After Loss
At 39 weeks, Lori went into labor. She moved through it gently and deliberately—alternating between bath, floor, firelight, and breath. Her husband and cousin stood by, this time fully aligned, reverent witnesses to the unfolding mystery.
The first twin, Novella, “shot out” unexpectedly while her husband was boiling water. The second, Olive, arrived breech shortly after. Lori caught both babies herself. They cried. They breathed. They lived.
“I had one baby in my arms, and I knew—there’s another,” she said.
Olive’s breech birth reopened wounds from Juliet’s death—but this time, it ended in tears of joy. Olive was gray, but revived quickly. Her birth was a healing echo, not a repeat.
Ancestral Healing and the Wisdom of Listening
Lori’s twin freebirth wasn’t just a physiological event—it was ancestral reclamation. Her Native heritage, once steeped in the wisdom of home birth and earth-based ceremony, found space to breathe again through her choices.
“This birth healed backward and forward,” she shared. “It healed me, my mother, my grandmother—and hopefully, my daughters too.”
Her postpartum was slow, sacred, and supported. Family stepped in, meals were prepared, and tandem breastfeeding began. Lori met the challenges of mothering three young children—including two newborns—with the same patience and grace she had cultivated through years of emotional labor.
Why Lori’s Story Matters
Lori’s story reminds us that birth doesn’t live in a vacuum. It is shaped by our lineage, our culture, our grief, and our capacity to heal. Her journey through cesarean, loss, wild pregnancy, and twin freebirth is not a path for everyone—but it is a path of truth.
And in that truth is something universal: the invitation to listen more closely, to trust more fully, and to honor birth as a rite of passage—not a procedure.
If you are navigating your own choices in birth, may you find in Lori’s story a wellspring of strength.
If you are grieving, may you know that healing is possible.
And if you are preparing to birth, may you remember—you were born wild.
To hear Lori’s full story in her own voice, including her experience with twin birth and the spiritual transformation that shaped her journey, listen to the episode “Lori’s Birth Stories – Loss, Resilience, and Wild Pregnancies” on the Born Wild Podcast.
