It’s the beginning of March here in the mountains of western Montana. We have made it through our first winter entirely off-grid! The experience of over four months of snow, ice, and temperatures well below 0oF have turned what at first seemed like a daunting task into a magical season well worth the efforts required. I even gave birth to our first baby in the depths of winter right in our camper home. Even as the snow and cold temperatures continue, I feel the Earth waking up from her winter slumber. Spring is here! And while the increased daylight hours bring a fresh, vibrant energy to the frozen landscape of our homestead dream, it seems like the perfect time to reflect on the successes and challenges of the winter season!
When my husband and I moved onto 20 acres of mountain forest land in early October, it was just a couple of weeks before the first snowfall. I was 6 months pregnant and people thought we were crazy to take on the task of staying on our new property this winter. It was a big change of plans from our original idea of following the warmth to Florida, and as a born and raised California girl I had never experienced much in terms of winter weather. I really had no idea what to expect! So first and foremost, the issue of what type of structure to live in loomed before us. Would we be able to get this done in time? We needed something cheap that we could get ready fast. It also had to be able to last us the years it could take to design and build our permanent earthen home. We looked at sheds, but with having to insulate and build all interior necessities from the ground up we felt buying a used travel trailer made more sense. We landed on a 2009 Keystone Cougar with the “polar package”. The term polar package is actually upsetting to me because it’s an utterly meaningless marketing ploy. You’re not going to be doing anything even remotely hardcore without major modifications. A simple internet search on the subject will show you dozens of stories of winter camping trips gone wrong. But the insulation in the walls is decent and the water tank is enclosed. Still, we had major work to do before this thing would be winter capable. We went for it and I am so glad we took that leap! We had challenges and learned some lessons the hard way, but through diligent effort we’ve been warm and cozy inside.
The dogs love the snow!Massively pregnant, hiking the property shortly after the first snows
Reenforcing the insulation was our number one priority. We needed to skirt the camper to prevent cold air from coming up from the open space between the camper and the ground. A major investment was in 2-inch foam board which lines the entire exterior, going a foot or two up the camper siding. This is taped on with heat absorbing tape. But we still needed more insulation. We were able to find a guy whose straw bales had gotten wet, so we got a killer deal on several of those. They are placed around the outside of the foam board and also broken down and stuffed underneath both staircases. The final piece of insulation was redoing the weather stripping around both doors. It took way longer than I’m proud of for us to bother doing it, but made a huge difference of course! We’ve also found that keeping the window shades drawn down on cold nights seems to noticeably decrease how often the furnace kicks on. They’re just the shades that came with it and don’t appear to be anything special.
Straw bale skirt before the snows startedFoam board peeking out from behind the straw
Next up was the decision to invest in a good wood burning stove. There’s nothing like the ambiance and the quality of warmth created by a fire. It makes the space feel like a home, and speaks to something deep in our ancient human DNA. I absolutely love how it enhances the winter season and do consider ours an essential! In practical terms without this we would have spent a (larger) fortune on propane and likely would still have had some pretty chilly times where the furnace wouldn’t have been able to keep up in the extremely cold times. With the wood stove we relax in comfort at night. Sometimes it’s even too hot! When that happens, it gives us opportunity to open windows and refresh the inside air. The main downside to the wood stove is that we had to get a very small one. It can feel that in order to keep a fire burning we are tethered to the camper on constant wood chopping and fireplace loading duty. More wood needs to be placed every 30-45 minutes! And they have to be quite small chunks. Of course, not everyone needs to maintain a cozy internal temperature all day every day no matter the outside temperature. We have chosen to do this work because it provides comfort for myself, our baby, and our dogs, as we are inside most of the time this season. We also ferment small artisan batches of mead which require a consistent warmth. On the coldest nights my husband has even chosen to stay up late into the night to maintain the fire and keep propane use lower. The initial investment in our stove (from www.tinywoodstoves.com) was about $2,000 which is one of our biggest investments. But it was worth it to me as it will provide all this for many years. All our firewood comes from existing dead trees on our property. So, there’s no cost to operation apart from chainsaw fuel. Installation took about half a day for my husband, who has a lot of experience in this arena. He needed to cut down the coat closet to make enough clearance for the stove, and then cut a hole in the roof for the exhaust pipe. All in the middle of a snowstorm! When planning the location of your stove keep in mind this pipe will have to be cleaned very frequently. So if you can do a side exhaust out one of the walls that’s a good option. It’s a little sketchy having my husband up on a ladder in all kinds of weather scrubbing it out. But so far so good!
Matching jammies in front of the wood stove!
The third pillar of winter survival is the propane furnace. Its main job is to keep the water tank from freezing. I was surprised to learn that for the water it actually doesn’t matter what the trailer interior temperature is. The furnace needs to run to warm the undercarriage where the tanks are. All the skirting insulation work is key for keeping that heat around! We bought a digital thermometer at the hardware store and were able to drop the probe down beneath the floor to monitor the temperature shifts in the undercarriage. This brings me to the tale of the frozen Solstice of December 21st. I spent a lovely afternoon making and delivering fudge to our neighbors for the darkest night of the year, which would also be the coldest at -30F. That night when the fire died out, we went to bed with the furnace set to 55F and a fresh tank of propane hooked up. Unfortunately, the furnace failed to click on. Cuddled up under our comfy blankets it took until the camper interior was 36F for us to get cold enough to wake up. By then the undercarriage was 0 degrees, and the water was frozen. There was nothing we could do but wait for it to thaw once warmer temperatures returned. I am so thankful that we have a system of keeping three 5-gallon buckets of water for drinking inside the camper. We store them in the shower and use them up during the week. We knew the really cold weather was coming, and made sure to have them filled up. Speaking of which it’s also a good idea to shower right before any major weather system hits! We were without water to shower with for Christmas four days later, but because we had showered before the tank froze we were still more or less presentable at our friend’s Christmas party…at least according to our current standards of cleanliness! Little did we know, that night also froze and broke the ammonia line for our RV fridge. A slow leak occurred over the next few days and late on Christmas Eve, in the midst of merriment, food and games with our neighbors, we discovered that the fridge was totally incapacitated. It was such a bummer! The water tank was still frozen and now this.
Christmas Eve family photos!Icicles form on the trailer exterior
Admittedly winter is the best time of year to have something like a fridge failure. But it’s still not any fun. A lot of things were fine outside, but for example, the fresh veggies and milk didn’t like it at all! The typical RV refrigerator runs off of propane and refrigerant gasses including ammonia. We found out after the fact that it’s common for that type of fridge to fail and break in extreme cold. They just aren’t hearty enough and in my opinion shouldn’t be used in any RV claiming to be designed for the cold. The replacement parts for repair were shockingly expensive so we opted to pay a little more and upgrade to a direct current compressor fridge. Which means it runs off of electricity instead of propane. I highly recommend it since in my experience, when the compressor can’t handle the cold, it freezes up but can be warmed with a hair dryer and doesn’t damage the system. Another cool bonus is that we got an additional 4 cubic feet of fridge space in the same spot! This has to do with the extra room created in the back of the fridge hole with an electrical setup. It’s a beast of a fridge that at 10 cubic feet is almost as large as in a house! It’s definitely in the running for my favorite upgrade! So of course the downside is that it runs off of the battery power. Fortunately, we went for a really robust battery system that can handle that output. We have two deep cycle AGM 12V 200Ah batteries (www.renogy.com). For the winter we haven’t been able to get any significant solar. We run our generator daily to keep up with the electrical use. We were doing that even before the DC fridge, and didn’t want to add much electrical draw. Turns out that by changing all the lightbulbs to LED we are actually at a net neutral in energy use versus before the upgrade. I was shocked at how wasteful the original bulbs were. Now the quality of lighting is so much brighter, and without the heat offput. It didn’t even require any rewiring. Wins on all fronts!
Warming up the compressor with a hairdryer we otherwise never use…
Personally, the biggest challenge and annoyance I encountered this year has been the condensation! Because of the difference between our cozy inside temperature and the wintery outside, as soon as we moved in water began dripping down the walls, the windows, and even the insides of the cabinets! I have several water damaged books, and I haven’t been able to use the closet because the clothes get damp. On the very cold nights, there are places where ice forms in the corners of the inside walls. This happens next to my bed, one spot in the corner behind the table cushion, and on the inside of the windows- just above the level of the insulation foam outside. Our pillows even froze to the back wall! We put up foam board inside behind the bed to shield us from that. However, I’m thinking that there’s probably mold growing behind it. Installing the wood stove really helped dry the air inside and stopped the drips down the walls. At least it made things livable. But it did not solve the cabinet/closet issue, and the windows remain fogged up most of the time. These are projects to solve for next year.
Having been invited to sink deep into seasonal and postpartum rest by the long nights and frozen ground, I’ve deeply enjoyed the many days spent managing a fire, bouncing my baby, and watching the snow swirl outside the giant window (that has no business in a camper supposedly designed for cold). It hasn’t always been easy, but the challenges have been well worth the effort needed to overcome them! I’m already excited to do even better next year, and for the adventure having a 1-year-old will add.
Me and my newborn son getting some of that crisp fresh mountain air!
Let me know what you think in the comments below. I’d love to hear your thoughts, experiences, and off-grid dreams!
My son Bruce was born on December 3rd, 2022 at 10:15am at 38 weeks gestation. We were attended only by his father and our three dogs. I gave birth in the off-grid travel trailer we call home, parked on our homestead in the forested mountains of north western Montana. The morning sun reflected the bright white of a thick layer of snow, and a cheerful blue sky welcomed him to Earth.
The night of December 2nd I went for a walk around our property. I remember taking slow small steps and needing to stop frequently. I would sway with my hands on my knees while feeling tightness in my womb. I walked into the camper holding my belly up with my hands. That was providing immense relief and I commented to my husband how heavy it felt. “Is the baby coming?” he asked. I responded probably not. If there was one thing I wasn’t going to do, it was exhaust myself with the cycle of false hope and disappointment that can come from anticipating a baby’s arrival. But as it turns out I’d already been in labor at least a day. The previous forty-eight hours or so I’d been leaking a little fluid when I would sneeze or fart, and had slowed way down on my homesteading projects in favor of rest. At the time I laughed it off, as I had been experiencing a juicy abundance of cervical fluid the entire third trimester of my pregnancy. And, there’s a ton of memes out there talking about being exhausted and dragging around a heavy belly as a pregnant mama approaching forty weeks. Anyway, on the 2nd, our neighbors called and invited us to a popcorn party the following day with the group of us who live on the mountain. I was in enough denial at that point to accept the invite. Spoiler alert, I would be asleep with my baby on my chest and a box of pizza in my lap by the time of the party the next day.
Around 9pm while I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed, I released a larger gush of water. I went into the bathroom to grab a towel and try to pee. I didn’t see my mucus plug or any bloody show, so I figured this might not indicate anything. I was sitting on the toilet leaning my head against the wall when my husband again asked if I was in labor. He received a lecture from me about how waters can leak for days or reseal so it still could be days or weeks. I got into bed and started journaling. By the time I had finished I had gone through two more hand towels and was going to sleep with one in between my legs that night. I remember writing that I might be in labor, and messaged a friend of mine who was also close to the birthing portal. I tucked myself into bed, excited but still in denial that this was really happening. I had been convinced that I would carry to at least 40 weeks and was prepared to exceed 42. In fact, I had been so sure of it that I hadn’t even done the maternity photoshoot I had purchased a gown for. I hadn’t acquired even one waterproof covering for any of our furniture, didn’t have a stack of clean towels, or my birth playlist, or a cord clamp. And I definitely hadn’t prepped any meals for postpartum. I had plans to start that work when we went to the city for my birthday dinner and shopping excursion on December 4th. When I went into labor the propane tanks needed swapping out, the grey water was full, and the fresh water was declaring empty. Luckily the fresh water tank shows “E” with several gallons still in the tank and we had enough water that it was not an issue during the birth.
After a period of tossing and turning, at 1:30am I got out of bed. I realized my discomfort was going to make it impossible to sleep. My dogs gazed at me with semi-reproachful curiosity from their beds as I disturbed their slumber. I was in a dreamy headspace. The fact that I didn’t have supplies was far from my mind, and the notion that these sensations were contractions and I needed to prep my birth space came to me intuitively and without conscious thought. Feeling serene and focused as I warmed up my nettle tea, I just began to do it. I lit the candle and incense on my altar, and began to clear off the dining table- convertible bed where I planned to give birth. Living with so little counter space we had all manner of this and that on the table, including clean dishes set out to dry. I had my affirmation art cards hung up on a lighted string over the table and was content and happy with my chosen space. Around 3am, after struggling for a minute to remove the table top, I woke my husband, Brandon, up to help me. I offered to let him go back to bed and wake him up again when I thought I really needed him for the birth, but he opted instead to build a fire and change the propane tanks so he knew we’d be warm and comfortable.
I was beginning to play with vocalizing through the contractions, and it really helped me get into a rhythm with them. I was also experimenting with positioning my body. I’d go from being on hands and knees on the bed, to standing up hanging on the ledge of the pop out, to being on my knees next to the bed and draping my arms across it. It felt good to slowly move my body, but I had zero desire to go for a walk or move far from my little nest. My male Pitbull, Rocky, was sticking super close to me at this point and after tripping over him a couple times in the narrow walkway, my husband had to tell him to go lay down in his bed. Apart from that, the dogs didn’t interact with me or get out of bed until my son was born. Although out of my sight, they were only a few feet away and I’m sure keeping a close watch over me. As labor proceeded into the early hours of the morning the contractions never stopped or slowed down. They continued relentlessly as they ramped up in intensity and moved closer together. With this came the most intense pain I’ve ever dealt with for an extended time. It was pain that tested my trust in the strength and endurance of my body beyond anything I had prepared for. “I just need a break. Please. Just a short break, don’t let them come again right now” I remember pleading to nobody in particular when I felt a contraction beginning to build. I felt an almost panicked desperation when I knew it was about to come. And still they built more intense and closer. I was roaring like a truly wild animal and was fully in my primal brain. My conscious mind and along with it all worry and fear were gone.
I quickly found that laying on my side during labor was not for me. The pain was excruciating when I tried it. I had to immediately get my husband to help me back into standing both times. While riding the waves on my knees on a pillow by the bed my waters fully released in a satisfying rush. Shortly after, needing to find a way to rest, I dropped to the floor and laid down on my back. I was getting so tired and yet the night was still in full darkness. It hadn’t been more than a few hours. My husband put a pillow behind my head and I rode out some contractions there until the hard cold floor began to be too much. Looking up I saw our bed down the tiny corridor. I had him help get me there, even though my intention had been to keep that as a clean space and not labor on it. On the bed I finally found the comfort I had been looking for. Laying on my back I was able to close my eyes and drift into a semi sleep state between contractions. My consciousness was traveling the astral realms and I again was fully in my body. At one point I became aware that I was lifting my shoulders up off the bed into a crunch or sit-up position and pushing as a contraction would hit. So that was how I did the bulk of my pushing work, in a space where time did not exist for me. In the dark my husband was sitting on the edge of the bed subtly timing my contractions for his own information and never telling me what the spacing was. Despite the pain, I got the rest I had been so desperate for. I roared my baby down through my birth canal. It was all instinctive. Giving birth is coded in my DNA and in the ancient ancestral knowing that is my birthright as a woman.
Then, all at once my conscious mind returned to me. I felt mildly refreshed and I needed to go to the bathroom. I hobbled over to our composting toilet and sat down, very glad that everything in the camper is close together! I remember sitting there, again leaning my head against the wall, and it was in that moment that some fear returned. I verbalized to my husband feeling that I couldn’t do it if it took much longer. I was afraid of the unknown length of the road still ahead. I was afraid because I hadn’t felt my baby move since labor had begun. I was terrified of stillbirth and of my baby being born needing emergency care. Although he later let me know that he was unnerved by my words, he demonstrated deep strength and wisdom and did not let on. Kneeling down in front of the toilet he reassured me that everything was exactly as it should be. He reminded me of my mantras and together we repeated “I trust the process” and “I release control” among others. He then asked me if I felt like I needed to poop, to which I responded that it felt like I had had a dingleberry for a super long time, but wouldn’t be able to get it out. I never confirmed if this was true, although at one point later he did nonchalantly wipe my butthole. As I sat on the toilet, I instinctively reached up inside myself and felt the top of my baby’s head. It was a magical moment and a huge relief! It felt so soft, small, and round. This experience infused me with a fresh burst of energy and I suddenly knew that I absolutely could do it and would do it. I was going to push my baby out! Not wanting to give birth on the toilet I got up and went back to my birthing space.
I looked out the window and was in a daze, blinking at the snow-covered pine trees in the dazzling golden morning sun. I got on the converted bed on my hands and knees and began to consciously push with each contraction, knowing it wouldn’t be long now. As I had throughout labor, I called for my husband’s hand to squeeze at the height of the sensations. He had also been in charge of encouraging me to drink water, and being hydrated was a huge asset by this point. I felt my baby’s head press against the opening of my vagina and almost emerge. Then it would get sucked back up inside me when the contraction was finished. This happened several times and each time I was struck by how far back up it would go. I could feel his head coming out slightly more each time and stretching my opening. I tried so hard to push it out. I felt like I just needed another second or two, but then the contraction would end. I was getting exhausted. My arms ached from supporting my upper body and I started to let my face press down into the cushions and close my eyes between contractions. The pain had lessened during the excitement after feeling his head, but it all came rushing back now.
I thought I might throw up. I dry heaved over a bowl and instantly regretted it due to a flap of skin choking me. It would go on to be a real burr under my saddle in my healing process, bothering me during every cough and making simple things like spitting out toothpaste an ordeal. I think it was the result of how much I was vocalizing. But anyway, remembering how well being on my back had worked earlier, I flipped over and began to push that way again. I asked my husband what he saw during a contraction. He positioned himself between my legs and with tears in his eyes confirmed he saw the head. His excitement gave me strength as he built me up with positive words of how well I was doing and that our baby was almost here! At this point I was fully in my conscious brain and pushing with all my might, still screaming and roaring my power and my frustration to the world. Finally, the moment came where when I pushed his head emerged. I didn’t feel a ring of fire, I think because of how many times his head had come down and stretched my opening, barely short of the amount necessary. Bruce took his first breath, and my husband joyfully reported that he was indeed alive. I had been holding on to and suppressing some anxiety surrounding the birth outcome, and in that moment felt overwhelming ecstatic relief. It was absolutely one of the best moments of my life so far.
Suddenly the pain intensified, completely catching me off guard. I thought the head was supposed to be the most painful part! But the time waiting for my next contraction was more painful than his head’s emergence. I wiggled and squirmed in agony and even pushed without a contraction because I so badly wanted his body out. That did not work. So, after a couple contraction cycles, I asked my husband again what he saw. He could see his whole head and his hand. Bruce had actually grabbed Brandon’s finger while he was still inside me! The hand being up there definitely explained the pain. Finally, on what was perhaps the third contraction after head emergence, the rest of my son’s perfect little body came sliding out into his dad’s hands. There was a gush of blood and a few large blood clots that followed his body and anointed one of our table cushions. My husband checked the gender and proudly passed our baby boy Bruce up to me. I placed him on my chest, smelling, kissing and loving on him while I also did the work of inspecting him.
Inspecting my brand new baby
Bruce was born a little bit blue and we needed to get him covered so he could share my body heat effectively and warm up. My husband grabbed my bath towel that we had been using in the labor and quickly placed it over us before he went to grab a cozier throw blanket. Once we were snuggling in our post-birth bliss my husband and I were able to see that the blue was rapidly pinking up and his ability to absorb oxygen was totally fine. As was his overall alertness and responsiveness. Over the next few minutes, we watched the color improve on his entire vernix coated body, from his head down to his little feet. He had some congestion which we chose to allow him to work through naturally as it did not seem to be interfering with his breathing in any significant way. He cried a little bit and suckled for a few seconds before falling into a peaceful sleep. I would have preferred for him to nurse more, but I chose not to disturb him. I squeezed my breast a little bit out of curiosity and saw the beads of colostrum form on my nipples. Later on, before we figured out feeding and latching properly, I would use that technique to entice him to try to eat. The Golden Halo of two hours post-birth is a truly special experience. During that time the divine Goddess within me completed my transformation from Maiden to Mother as I soaked in my journey through the birth portal.
As much as I wanted to crawl into bed, after about forty-five minutes my husband reminded me that I still needed to birth my placenta. The last thing I wanted to do was get up and push anything else out of my vagina. But, knowing that I was not done with my birth process yet, he grabbed my large blue ceramic serving bowl and I positioned myself over it. He held Bruce and tried to assist me in keeping the cord from yanking tight while I got into position. It’s hard to describe the strange sensation of the spongey white umbilical cord still in my body and attached to my baby. I had been hoping the placenta would just plop out like I’ve heard on some birth stories, but it definitely did not. I hovered above the bowl waiting for a contraction. At that point I really hadn’t gotten the uncomfortable cramping sensations that I had been expecting. Oh well. I figured I’d try again in a little while. As I was settling back onto the cushions our neighbors unexpectedly showed up. What had happened was before I went into labor Brandon had been trying to move a wooden foundation slab but couldn’t do it himself. He had asked them to come help him when they could. So, with me completely naked, placenta still attached, covered in blood and various birth juices we welcomed our new friends into our home and proudly showed off our very brand-new baby boy who was asleep on my chest. I had been so protective of my birth plan, insisting on no visitors and had not invited anyone to the birth. This development was entirely unexpected. But there I was, making semi awkward small talk with a young woman who I’d only met very briefly twice before.
After a while I realized I needed to work on my placenta again. At that point it had been over three hours since the birth. In addition to the concerns of a retained placenta, having it inside me and the cold umbilical cord still between my legs was increasingly uncomfortable. Deciding I couldn’t afford to be self-conscious; I asked my neighbor to hold Bruce so I could squat over the bowl and attempt to get it done. By the time Brandon was back in the camper and my placenta was still not out, I made the decision that I wanted to cut the cord to give myself more freedom of movement. But what were we going to clamp or tie it off with? We had not prepared for this. Our neighbors offered to go get a brand-new pair of shoelaces that were a decent thickness for the job. A few minutes later my husband very tightly tied off the cord and we snipped it with a regular pair of scissors, sanitized with rubbing alcohol. By that point I was also beginning to feel like Bruce really needed to nurse again. He was still sleeping peacefully and uninterested in latching. So first I worked on my placenta. I thanked her, I squatted over the bowl and I pushed. This only resulted in me bleeding and peeing in the bowl. I massaged my womb, I pulled gently on the cord, and I walked around. The cord was dangling out of me and swinging around, dripping blood into the bowl and onto the floor. I moved my hips in circles. Nothing happened.
Bruce with his shoelace cord tie
Time was moving fast by this point and I was getting concerned. I knew that I was not about to go to the hospital and get it scrapped out of me. They would also likely pressure me with antibiotics, Pitocin, and hassle me with other unnecessary bullshit. I began to fantasize about just leaving it in forever. But I knew it was necessary for me to take responsibility and get it out. I reviewed a post by Emilee Saldaya of Freebirth Society about the placenta and was reassured that what I really needed to do was be determined and focused. I realized I was holding on to hesitation because I really was afraid to push anything else out of my vagina. Also, my birth process had been interrupted by the neighbor visit, dragging me into conscious reality. Armed with that knowledge I attempted again to get my sleeping baby to nurse. When that failed, I gave him to my husband for skin-to-skin bonding and went into the bathroom. I was completely set on only exiting the bathroom with the placenta in the bowl. I sat down on the toilet, again thanking my placenta for nourishing my baby. I again began to push while pulling the cord with increasing tension. I would feel it stretch and then I would back off the pulling, being careful not to do anything that could lead to it snapping. I rubbed my abdomen and rolled my hips in circles. I still wasn’t experiencing any contractions. After a while instead of pushing I focused on full body relaxation. I visualized the placenta moving down while continuing to apply traction on the cord. I finally began to feel some progress and eventually I could reach inside myself and feel the placenta in my vaginal canal. What a welcome relief! I took a deep breath and tried not to tense up as I pulled her down to my very swollen opening. I gave a gentle and slow push and the placenta squeezed out and landed right in the composting toilet. Wahoo! It may have taken six hours, but my placenta was out and I was finished giving birth! I stood up and a stream of blood came out of me. I evaluated myself for any weakness or dizziness. Well, I did feel weak in the legs and completely exhausted but I decided that was totally justified considering the circumstances.
My placenta was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I stared at her in awe, my eyes following the three veins that form the tree of life and appreciating the way the amniotic sac still clung on. She was large, meaty, purplish in color and definitely more edible looking than I expected. My plan had been to keep an open mind on the idea of eating my placenta, particularly if I had lost a lot of blood or felt depleted. With her in the toilet that was no longer on my list of options. I inspected her for wholeness, and was satisfied that there weren’t any pieces missing. Although, five days into postpartum recovery, as I was gingerly applying warm compresses to my yoni, out came a blood clot with a piece of what appeared to be placenta attached to it. This was an unnerving development! But it had come out and that was a good thing. I didn’t have a fever and my healing was going great so I decided to try not to worry. I made sure I kept up with the warm compressing and no further pieces ever came out. I gently picked her up and deposited her in the bowl.
Proud and euphoric I crawled onto the converted bed and my husband put little Bruce back on my chest. I’m not sure who suggested it, but the plan became that he would go get us a pizza while I rested. I tend to mark important life events this way. He helped me get Bruce lined up and secure our very first true latch. I nursed and cuddled my little boy in complete bliss. After the pizza arrived my husband asked if I would be okay if he went over to the popcorn party at the neighbors for a little while. He thrives on social interaction and community building, and I wasn’t really ready to move yet anyway so I was fine with it. He turned on the water heater to begin the warming up process, refilled my water bottle, and left the camper as I drifted into a deep sleep. At one point I woke up and realized my last piece of pizza had slid off my lap and onto the floor. I reached down and grabbed that little sucker and ate it anyway, then fell back asleep. When he got home about two hours later, I was definitely ready for a shower and a more comfortable bed. Bruce got some more daddy bonding time and I took a piping hot RV shower. In the tiny space I used the full six gallons available to me to wash myself clean with Dr. Bronners baby unscented castile soap and check out the state of my lady bits. I was really happy to find that I hadn’t torn at all! It felt like there was a minor abrasion on my right inner labia, indicated by a very mild pain when I would pee. Despite the fact that I was definitely swollen, I felt myself to have come through the sacred birth portal in near perfect condition. I intend to write in detail about my experiences postpartum. There is a lot to say about off-grid healing, early mothering for the first time, co-sleeping, breastfeeding, and elimination communication. But those are topics for another day.
I finished my shower, retrieved my baby from his father, and snuggled into bed with them both as a happy and contented family of three. Our bed does not have a full walk around, so even though that caused me a lot of irritation in late pregnancy it felt really safe for the start of my co-sleeping journey. Even so, I set up an intricate system of safety pillows. I spent that night and well into the next day drifting in and out of sleep. I would rest my hand on his little chest to feel the rhythm of his breathing. I lay there in sheer happiness, absorbing how my life would never be the same. No longer a maiden, I had become a mother and my life’s most important work was just beginning to unfold.
