Aeneas' story began long before children became a part of my life and even before his father entered the picture. He was the one who made me a mother, long before my first child was born. He initiated my journey toward motherhood and sparked my pursuit of my children. Aeneas helped me embrace the idea of becoming a young mother and desiring children early in life. Although I always knew this, he encouraged me to follow that path with pride instead of worrying about the opinions of others. Because of him, my spiritual journey gained the necessary awareness at precisely the right time. His soul has been intertwined with mine for multiple lives. I remember him from before this life, even bearing the weight of a shared past life as a burden on my shoulders for the years until his birth. Aeneas was destined to be, and his arrival was long foretold. He is also the firstborn of our Arthurian soul trio, meant to come first to guide his brothers toward their destiny. My natural protector. My firstborn son. My Aeneas. This is the story of his unassisted home birth.
The Arrival of His Name
During high school, I studied Latin. It was, by far, my favorite subject to learn. I had always been drawn to ancient cultures, and studying Ancient Rome and its myriad stories captivated me. The combination of an excellent teacher and a fascinating subject made Latin the only high school class that truly resonated with me. To this day, I remember what I learned, and after high school, I continued to study the language and culture independently. Now, I can speak Latin fluently and still read Latin stories with ease. Semper sequere tuam passionem et viam cordis. Est conexio cum anima tua.
This illustrates my journey at the time: a broken teenager who found solace in ancient cultures, immersing herself in them to escape the world around her.
But this instance I will never forget: at one point, we began studying a new author and book: Virgil's Aeneid. The moment I heard the name Aeneas for the first time, I was covered in goosebumps. I instantly experienced visions of the soul energy embodied by the name Aeneas, and a profound sense of truth and knowledge coursed through my entire being: my firstborn son would be named Aeneas.
For years, my family teased me about his name. In Dutch, the word for pineapple is "ananas," and they would often make jokes about it. This hurt because my heart and soul were deeply connected to his name and the energy it carried. Despite their jests, I remained steadfast. That was the name of my son, and nobody could ever change my mind.
The Arrival of His Soul
On February 12th, 2003, my grandfather passed away. He was the love of my heart, the light of my life, my soul's friend. My world crumbled, and my soul grew dark. The void left by his absence was vast and deep. Life seemed devoid of energy and purpose. I remember that time as being incredibly dark.
Exactly one month later, on March 12th, 2003, I met him—the man who would eventually become the father of my children. The moment our eyes met, I experienced another vision. I saw my son, the one who would be named Aeneas. Though I was only 16 at the time, I knew that the man before me was destined to be my son's father. The energy of that moment was undeniable, and I felt certain that my grandfather had sent him to me. Moreover, my son's soul connected with mine, and from that day on, it remained close by, waiting for the day he could make his entrance into the world. I clung to his father, determined to stay with him for the sake of my future children.
His First Appearance
In August 2004, I became pregnant for the first time at just 18 years old. I still had some exams to retake in order to graduate from high school, but I didn't care. It felt like my entire life had been leading up to this moment, and it would truly begin only when I had my children. My original plan to wait until at least after graduation to start a family was cast aside when I became pregnant during my exam week—deliberately. I immediately knew I was pregnant. Looking back, I recall taking my exams with my hand on my pregnant belly, a secret known only to me, but the biggest support I could dream of at that time.
On October 5th, 2004, I experienced heavy bleeding. Two young parents-to-be rushed to the emergency room. My familiar soul seemed to depart from my body. A flickering heartbeat brought more relief than sadness; our baby was still with us. Later, we suspected that we had actually been pregnant with twins. Our eldest daughter survived, but her twin did not. To this day, I believe that the lost soul was the same one that would eventually return in the form of our son—the soul I knew so well. A guide from the start, a teacher, and a protector. He made a brief appearance to impart lifelong lessons to his elder sister. He and my grandfather would continue to orchestrate our family's story from behind the scenes for many years to come.
His Second Appearance
In the latter half of 2012, we had built a life for ourselves, albeit a mediocre one. We lived the life others dreamed for us: marriage, homeownership, three kids—the societal dream life. However, it wasn't truly our dream life. We did what was expected of us, and our rebellion against society manifested only in our parenting style.
More than four years after the birth of our youngest daughter, we were pregnant again. This pregnancy felt off from the beginning. My body didn't respond well; I was sick throughout, losing 15 kg in just a few weeks. Furthermore, for the first time, our close friends and family were not happy for us. They questioned our decision and didn't hesitate to share their concerns. Their reactions were indifferent, at best. The energy surrounding this pregnancy wasn't right, but we were overjoyed at the prospect of another child. The soul I had been awaiting for years would finally join our family.
On November 24th, 2012, I experienced light bleeding and a strange feeling. At the emergency room, it was confirmed: we had lost our baby at around 12 weeks into the pregnancy. On November 26th, 2012, our baby was born, measuring just 5 cm in length. I gave birth alone, as my partner didn't realize the importance of being by my side during this time and left for work. Surrounded by our three young children who had just awoken and needed care, I delivered our sweet little baby on my own.
I knew from the start of the pregnancy that she was a girl, which initially surprised me, as the soul was supposed to be born as a son. However, I embraced her regardless. Her miscarriage was not a surprise; all the puzzle pieces fit together. She had arrived for another purpose: to turn our lives upside down and completely change our course. She came as the greatest healer we would ever encounter, and heal she did.
I am certain that this soul was the same guiding spirit that had been with me for so many years. The energy was the same; I recognized it. There is no doubt in my mind about this. Maya*, Aurora* and eventually Aeneas share one and the same soul.
His Second Name
After Aurora's* arrival, a healing process began for all of us, particularly for me. It was time to start addressing childhood wounds and breaking away from the life that didn't bring us happiness. Many things happened during that time; healing is difficult, especially when addressing deep, internal wounds.
During this healing process, I discovered that I had never been ready to have a son. Numerous unresolved issues had caused anxiety over the years, making it difficult for me to bear sons. However, this healing process prepared me. The moment I felt I was finally ready to have a son, his second name appeared: Enjolras. This name indicated that we would have a fighter on our hands—one who would question the world as it is and fight to change it for the better.
His Third Time in My Belly
In the second half of 2013, we became pregnant again. This time, the pregnancy felt much stronger, and my intuition told me that this was our son and he would stay this time. Once again, I instantly knew I was pregnant and welcomed his soul and arrival. After a long healing process and the heavy loss of Aurora*, this baby felt like a gift from the Universe. We had done well and were being rewarded for it.
Healing processes continued to arise, particularly those related to childhood wounds. My task was to become our ancestral cycle breaker, and to do that, I first had to take the time to heal myself. This meant that I had to sever contact with the energy carried by my mother and her family. When Aurora*'s first anniversary was ignored, the pain from that was strong enough to help me leave that centuries-old cycle. My son's soul and energy helped a cycle breaker rise. Contact was broken for a while, and more healing occurred.
Transitioning from Midwife to Unassisted Ideology
From the start, I had a gut feeling that I needed to give birth on my own, without a midwife this time around. Around 15 weeks into the pregnancy, we had one appointment with our previous midwives, but this only confirmed our intuition. It didn't feel right to continue our journey with them, even though we adored them.
Throughout the remainder of the pregnancy, we avoided medical appointments. For the first time, we chose not to have any scans. The protective bubble we had created was exactly what we needed, and any outside influence would have disrupted what we were building.
One of My Toughest Pregnancies
His pregnancy was a tough one. The many healing processes took a toll on my body. This resulted in my stomach giving up, no longer digesting food. Seeking medical help didn't feel right; I knew this was part of the healing process. This experience taught me a lot about nutrition and how the human body works. Did you know that there are nutritional sources that are absorbed by our blood and mucus membranes? I learned that the hard way. From month 3 to month 7, I survived on those kinds of food sources. Nettle, chlorella, spirulina, algae, turmeric, and more saved my life. I lost over 25 kilos during that pregnancy, and by the seventh month, I was thin and weak, but both the baby and I were doing better than one might expect. I went through that pregnancy, guided purely by intuition. By the seventh month, my stomach began functioning again.
Enduring Braxton-Hicks and a Neck Hernia.
As time went by, I faced new challenges. Around week 33, I started experiencing intense Braxton-Hicks contractions. For the last seven weeks, it felt as though I was in labor continuously. In retrospect, the contractions during birth were of the same or even lesser intensity. By the end, my belly felt bruised from the inside out, and every time the baby kicked, tears sprang to my eyes.
During this time, I also developed severe torticollis in my neck, which turned out to be an inoperable neck hernia. The weakness of the pregnancy, combined with the emotional healing turmoil, likely triggered it. The pain was unbearable, and I couldn't lay down to sleep without screaming. A combination of osteopath treatments and wearing neck support eventually helped me through it, but it also meant cutting my dreadlocks shorter for the weight of them was too much.
The combination of Braxton-Hicks and the hernia, right after months of not digesting food and the resulting weakness, was an ordeal I wouldn't wish on anyone. My bubble was my only safe space.
Hiring a Doula
Despite choosing an unassisted pregnancy and birth, we hired a doula during the final weeks. I had a history of postnatal depression, and my partner at the time couldn't identify when I was struggling. Our solution was a doula, not necessarily for the birth, but for the weeks after, to keep an eye on me and sound the alarm if I wasn't doing well.
We found a wonderful person who supported our choice for an unassisted birth. She also rented out a special birth bath that we gladly accepted.
Reaching the 40-Week Mark
Our due date was April 26th, 2014, but it came and went. For the first time, I crossed the 40-week mark, which brought both joy and a lesson in patience. Looking back, he is my only child who ever went past his due date. Despite the challenges of the pregnancy, I cherished the extra time with him in my belly. Yes, my belly hurt a lot in the end, but I still enjoyed having him close to me for just a bit longer.
Aeneas' Unassisted Home Birth
On the evening of May 2nd, we went for our usual walk to the nearby playground, a perfect way to help the kids burn off any remaining energy. Their dad would run after them, playing with them, until they were completely exhausted. That evening was no different, except for the mental bubble that began to form around me. I don't remember a lot of the girls and their playing, but I do remember that bubble that naturally grew around me. My body also started to feel restless. Once back home, the girls went through their evening routine and went to bed. At exactly 11 minutes past midnight, I felt a small, painless wave. In that moment, I instinctively knew that it wasn't pre-labor, and that the process had begun. Doubtful, I decided not to tell my then-husband and simply wrote down the time. After that wave, more came, each about 5-10 minutes apart. They were still not a big deal, but my gut told me this was the real thing, so I continued to write down the timings.
At 1 AM, my husband suggested going to bed. I informed him about the waves I'd been recording and the possibility that labor was slowly starting. We decided to stay downstairs a little longer to wait and see.
After 1 AM, the waves began coming every 4-5 minutes. By 2 AM, we took a leap of faith, started filling the birth pool, and called our doula. As I showered, the waves intensified and I had to breathe through them.
Around 3 AM, I was in the birth bath, the doula had arrived, and the waves were coming every 2-3 minutes. I could recover well between them, and the brown line at the bottom of my back indicated that my body was opening up.
At 4 AM, my doula suggested getting out of the water for a bit and perhaps going to the bathroom. As soon as I got up, the waves intensified, rapidly progressing from my previous dilation to full dilation. I experienced a wave storm like never before, and everything happened very quickly from that point on. Our doula gave me something sugary to eat, they provided me with water to drink, and my husband massaged my back. My water broke during this stage, and I recall saying "my water just broke," but my memories of that moment are hazy.
I had intended to use hypnobirth breathing techniques for the delivery, but as I tried to do so, I started to panic. A severe panic attack ensued, and both our doula and my husband had to put in considerable effort to calm me down.
While feeling for my baby's head, I noticed some flesh obstructing his passage. It wasn't a part of my baby but rather a fleshy part of myself. My instinct told me I couldn't get him out, which triggered the panic attack.
Our doula suggested trying to relax and let my uterus push him out using hypnobirth techniques, but I knew that wasn't an option. At that moment, I managed to let go of my panic, regain my composure, and began pushing with all my strength. It was a raw, instinctive, and intense experience, nothing like the gentle, soft hypnobirth I had planned. I pushed as hard and as fiercely as I could. Soon, his head was out, and a moment later, the rest of his body followed.
I kept him underwater for a few seconds, checked the baby's gender, and placed him on my chest.
His umbilical cord was very short, so I had to squat to keep his head above water (there went my "plan" to sit and relax in the water with my baby and wait until the placenta was out…). My husband went upstairs to wake up our daughters, who, of course, never got out of bed that quickly before in their lives. They came downstairs to meet their little brother, who, in turn, needed his first sip of mommy milk. To have their own share in the birth and to welcome their little brother, the girls placed some flowers in the water.
After some time, the placenta came out, but a small piece was still stuck, so I had to keep squatting with half of the placenta hanging out of me. Ten to fifteen minutes later, the entire placenta came out, and baby and I left the water to start enjoying each other on the sofa. What happened afterward is a bit vague in my memory. I recall those amazing little blue eyes watching me, and I couldn't look away as time seemed to stand still. I was mesmerized by the little creature in my arms; it was love at first sight.
After a while, I had to hand him over to his dad because I needed to use the toilet. It was then that I saw the damage done to me. The piece of flesh that had been in the way of my baby earlier was still protruding. My gut told me it was a part of my bladder, but I decided to wait and give it some time. Fortunately, when I checked an hour later, it was back to "normal."
What it was, I will never know for sure. We now know that I have a prolapsed bladder (after Aurora*, I had a bladder infection for more than six months, and I already suspected having a prolapse before I was pregnant). It's possible that the baby pushed it down before coming out.
Lotus Birth
After Aeneas' physical birth, our journey had not yet come to an end. His soul and his entire being still needed time to arrive on Earth. We wanted to provide him the opportunity to do so at his own pace, without any rush, which led us to opt for a Lotus Birth.
Maintaining the connection between the baby and the placenta throughout this time was more challenging than anticipated. During this period, I was unable to do much else other than keeping my baby close to me, stepping out of bed only for bathroom breaks, and simply being present in the moment. The placenta's presence forced me to stay in bed, which was not necessarily a negative experience. With our daughters, I had always been up and about from the moment they were born. This time, however, I stayed in bed the entire time.
Life paused for a while, which was comforting as it allowed me to focus on getting to know my baby. Despite this, managing the placenta while taking care of the baby proved quite difficult. We chose to dry out the placenta during the Lotus Birth, using rosemary powder and adding rose and jasmine leaves for symbolic purposes.
Aeneas took longer to fully arrive on Earth than most babies, detaching from his placenta after 8 days. For a Lotus Birth, this is an extended period. However, it allowed him the necessary time to continue healing us, just as he had during the pregnancy. Those 8 days were emotionally intense for me. I found myself crying often, struggling to cope with everything. I even experienced another panic attack when he was 6 days old. During this time, I felt disconnected from my motherly instincts and had difficulty adjusting to my new role as his mother. My son brought immense energy to this world, which overwhelmed me during those initial days. Ending a tumultuous pregnancy with a turbulent birth left me with more healing to do. I didn't feel prepared to be the mother of a son who came with such powerful energy. This energy seemed to grow stronger each day, and every time he looked into my eyes, I felt as if he could see directly into my soul, triggering me immensely.
On the eighth day, Aeneas detached from his placenta. Seemingly tired of it, he kicked it away with his feet. In that moment, an incredible sense of calm washed over us. I can't quite explain the sensation that enveloped us, but something in the air had shifted. He had finally arrived on Earth, and the experience was nothing short of beautiful. Tears filled my eyes, and a wave of relief overwhelmed me. As I cuddled him, I could feel that we had both finally settled into this new reality. We had experienced this Lotus Birth together.
Postnatal Depression Strikes Again
As a writer, I have always chronicled my life experiences, including the difficult moments. The best way to convey how I felt back then is to share one of my writings from that time:
"Emotionally, the past three weeks have been incredibly challenging. Coping with all the hormones has not been easy. I have felt overwhelmed and unsure of myself. I am just trying my best, but it feels like I'm failing miserably.
The girls have been acting out, seeking attention in negative ways. I feel like I missed out on the first three weeks of Aeneas' life because of their behavior. It's as if they have robbed me of these precious moments with him, and it hurts so much.
I needed those early days to bond with my son, but instead, I had to deal with this. Now, it feels like it's too late. I fear I will never have that special bond with him, the one that is forged in those initial days and weeks. It feels like I'm just his caretaker and feeder, rather than his mother.
Of course, I can forgive my daughters for what they've put me through. I do so every single day. But I can never forget. These memories will haunt me for the rest of my life. I lost the last weeks of my pregnancy and the first weeks with my son due to their extreme behavior, something I have never seen from them before. The pain of losing this precious time with him is unbearable. I can't help but wonder if I did something terribly wrong to deserve this.
I question why I went through all the trouble during this pregnancy, only to find myself back where I started. This time, however, I'm too exhausted to go through it all again. I feel done with this journey, as if I'm simply not good enough.
I long to escape – to get away from here, my family, people, and the mundane aspects of daily life – just to be alone with my son. But I know that's not a realistic option. So, I must come to terms with my losses and move forward, continuing with daily life as we know it. It's time for me to stop crying and just carry on.
I did my best, but it seems I failed once again."
The Birth of My Spiritual Motherhood
Fortunately, as the weeks passed, I began to find myself again. Along with this personal rediscovery came a whole new aspect of motherhood: my holistic, spiritual motherhood. It was a side of myself that had always been present but only now came to fruition. I wrote this when he was one month old:
"Spiritually, I believe I have found my path once more. After having a truly heartfelt conversation with a friend, I can breathe a bit easier. I know Aeneas is a special child and always will be. I also sensed a lot of energy and energy shifts around him in the past weeks, knocking me off course. Particularly, this one energy that keeps lingering around us. He seems to recognize this energy and frequently 'talks' and smiles at it.
Since his birth, I've been overwhelmed by the feeling that he has another mother. It was just a feeling, but it made me feel insecure about myself, as if I wasn't meant to love him the way I did because he wasn't 'mine.' His recognition of this energy that was left behind at his birth (his great energy came together with him, but some of it stayed 'there,' which I could sense quite clearly) and his smiling at it didn't help me feel better, creating a rollercoaster of emotions.
Thanks to my friend, I now have a clearer understanding of this. What I'm feeling isn't me being crazily hormonal; it's another female energy, caring for him 'there' while I care for him here. I already sensed that Aeneas would never completely land here; he would always be in between both worlds. This also means he needs a mother in both worlds.
This realization is intense, but I made peace with it the moment it crossed my mind. It feels right. A child who brings such a vast amount of energy with him requires all the support he can get. Opening the gates and lifting the veil demands a lot from him; I'm glad we can provide both his body and soul with enough love and care to help him with this journey. If this means I'm not his only mother, then so be it. I can get used to this other energy around us, working together with it if it helps my son.
'Letting go' has evidently been my lesson in recent weeks, just as it was during the final weeks of my pregnancy and throughout his birth.
It's genuinely beautiful to feel that he has a guardian angel on the other side, helping and caring for him when needed, and to witness him interacting with it. It's amazing to be so certain of things you can't see with your eyes but can feel with your heart. I cherish this. He is one special boy…"
Now, years later, I have so much more knowledge about these kinds of things and I could write so much more about it, but at that moment, I was at the start of my spiritual motherhood journey. It's very special to read through these writings again.
Let's End This Story... For Now
With the opening of that spiritual window, numerous other stories unfolded. Little Aeneas revealed to me memories from past lives we shared together, life lessons that needed to be learned, and so much more. This blog post would become too lengthy if I documented everything. After a couple of months, it also became more apparent that he was a natural healer, here to heal not only me but everyone who crossed his path. There's so much more to share about all of this—the entire discovery of his true birth, physical, emotional, and spiritual!
Allow me to conclude with this: on the day he turned six months old, my soul received a gift from his soul—his third name, Lancelot. His name was complete. Aeneas Enjolras Lancelot. Our little knight.
Comments