Vegan Birth Stories

Please read our collection of birth stories. If you'd like to submit your own, please submit your story here. Vegan or vegetarian birth stories are welcome.

Iyana's Birth Story

There are births, and there are other kinds of family beginnings. After experiencing four of the usual kind -- family and friends gathered around me, breathing, concentrating, pushing, and finally greeting a tiny babe still warm from my "oven," I have had the pleasure and privilege of being part of another sort of beginning.

Iyana was a tiny 6-month-old, my third cousin, who had spent the two weeks prior with vomiting and diarrhea due to RSV, a virus that can be quite dangerous for small children. Her mom has a lot of problems, starting with being suicidal and including dependence upon a smorgasbord of chemicals, and the criminal issues that go along with that lifestyle. Iyana had been bounced around between at least nine primary care givers and countless other folks who'd keep her for a day or a week while her mother did her own thing. Now she was bouncing in my direction while her mother recovered from her latest suicide attempt.

Her young aunt, stuck with a baby she couldn't care for, brought her to my mom's house for advice on dealing with her illness. The baby's big brown eyes sought mine and she reached out to grasp my fingers. I dug through Mama's cedar chest and found a length of bright purple fabric. I knotted it into a nursing sling and Iyana snuggled against me. Riding on my chest, for the first time in many hours she was able to keep some Pedialyte down, and then fell asleep still clinging to my shirt. We would spend the next few days with her riding in the sling. I'd never raised a babe who wasn't breastfed, and rarely used disposables, so my grown daughter came by to tutor me in the ways of formula and disposable diapers.

Five days later her aunt came to collect her. I bade farewell with tears in my eyes. The next morning her aunt phoned to say she wouldn't stop screaming. I went to see her. She stopped yelling as soon as she heard my voice, and reached out her arms to be picked up. We took her back home and loved her some more. As long as she was in the sling, she was happy. A visit to the pediatrician confirmed that she was starting to gain weight again.

Another week passed, and her aunt asked to take her back again. Again she screamed bloody murder until I came to see her. Her aunt reluctantly agreed that Iyana had made up her mind -- she wanted to stay with me.

I called everybody I knew and begged for baby stuff -- diapers, a swing, a stroller. She took baths in the giant turkey roaster that we use for mixing bread dough, and slept cuddled next to me. Friends arrived with bags of baby things and casseroles. I finally got out of the habit of popping a nipple in her mouth when she cried at night -- a couple of serious bites cured me of that sleepy habit!

Our daytime hours were spent snuggling, rocking and singing, and going for long walks around the neighborhood, and our nights with warm baths and stories that I had all but forgotten, since my own brood have gotten so big and outgrown Seuss and Silverstein and Ping the Duck.

Our dogs stood guard when Iyana laid in my bed. Better than any baby monitor, they would let me know the minute she whimpered. Mostly, though, Iyana rode in her "grape" -- the purple polyester fabric that I'd lined with soft fleece and stitched up into a proper sling.

I knew she was truly mine we went to lunch with friends. She was offered a bite of chicken; she spit it out and made a horrible face, then reached for the tofu on my plate.

Two months later would find us in the judge's chambers, where I was granted permanent guardianship. The judge instructed me to raise my right hand and repeat the oath of guardianship. Then he said, "You may now kiss the baby." Iyana and I snuggled while the bailiff, clerk and judge applauded. The bailiff gave Iyana a Beanie Baby, and we went home together, singing and smiling.

That was 18 months ago. My littlest babe is now a thriving 23-month-old with a twinkle in her eye. I am a mama who knows what it means to be chosen by a tiny person, and who has been blessed to discover a whole new way to build a family.

My daughter was a feather
who floated down to me.
My baby bloomed in another womb
far away, you see.
Whispers in the forest,
a song from tree to tree.
Beasts, birds and flowers know
that she was meant for me.
~ Author Unknown ~

Camille Landry -- Rachel's, Jonathan's, Richard's, Jessica's, and Iyana's mama

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