Lotus Birth is not simply a birth choice. It is a decision about whether a newborn’s Will gets to finish arriving before the world starts shaping her.

This is the story of why I made that choice for my second child, and what living beside her since has taught me about my own arrival, the one that got interrupted before I had any say in it.

We chose Lotus Birth for our second child, and I remember the quiet of those days after her birth more than almost anything else from that time. The placenta stayed with her. Nobody rushed in to cut anything. She simply arrived, and stayed connected, for exactly as long as her body knew to stay connected.

Even as a toddler, she carried something I recognized instantly and had never had myself: a kind of feeling-based resiliency, as if staying connected to her own center came naturally to her. She knew her yay. She knew her nay. She could tell you, plainly, when something lit her up and when something made her tummy twist. I watched her do this and I understood, for the first time, what I had been missing.

I spent years with an intense yearning to find who I really am. I looked outside myself for it constantly, in ideas, in teachers, in places. It was only once I delved deeply into the Syntropic Human Blueprint that I recognized what I had actually been looking for. I was looking for my Will, the part of me that should have entered through my navelport at birth and never got the chance.

My own cord was cut the way most cords are cut: quickly, immediately, as a matter of routine. Nobody meant harm by it. It’s simply what conventional birth does. But I have come to understand that this moment, the one none of us remember consciously, is where the Will of the Soul either gets to fully arrive or gets interrupted mid-arrival. When it’s interrupted, the loss doesn’t disappear. It goes into the cells, pre-lingual, unnamed, and it waits there, sometimes for decades, to be recognized.

That’s what I was doing all those years I spent searching. I was carrying a soul disconnection I had no language for, going by the name of restlessness, or ambition, or spiritual seeking, when what it actually was, was a longing for a homecoming that had been cut short before I had any say in it.

Watching my daughter grow up whole in this specific way, sensefelt and intact, has been its own form of healing for me. I couldn’t give myself a Lotus Birth. But I could give her one, and in doing so, I got to witness, in real time, what an uninterrupted Will actually looks like in a human being. It looks like a person who knows, without hesitation, what feels like yes and what feels like no.

That is the whole of what I’m pointing to when I talk about Lotus Birth. New Human Life as a continuum, to protect, so that a soul gets to arrive all the way.

In grace and lovingkindness,

Souvereign

This piece is one chapter of a longer telling. All the Way Whole: Nine Months, Ten Days, and Seventeen Years follows this same story from the first months of pregnancy through seventeen years of living beside a daughter who arrived whole. Free to download, free to pass on.

Download All the Way Whole (free)