My Miracle Boy

My Miracle Boy


Twenty two years ago today, my labor finally truly began for the birth of my son Nicolas. He was over ten days post dates and I didn’t want an induction or another cesarean, which my daughter Alyssa, baby #4, was born by. A dear friend offered to help me stay at home as long as possible to prevent induction. I did a lot of research and lots of birthing affirmations, like “My body knows how to create a perfect, healthy baby and I will let it.” And, “My body knows how to give birth normally and I will let it.”

After bumpy road rides and some other recommended forms of self induction, my contractions finally began right about 2:00 p.m. that day. I called my friend and we began walking around the block. Alternating with sitting outside on the back patio, enjoying the weather which had become cooler finally as a thunderstorm was coming on in.

About 8:00 p.m. the storm got very close and a clap of thunder struck, breaking my waters. Now for me, every birth became longer and more difficult rather than more quickly and easier. Well, all my babies were big, ranging from 8-10 pounds.

We decided to get to the hospital at that time, for there was some meconium in the water. I labored all night long, walking up and down the halls as long as I could, and sneaking juice and crackers whenever the nurses weren’t in the room.

By about 7:00 o’clock in the morning, my doctor came to check me and decided to start IV fluids. A couple hours later they decided to start me on Pitocin. At that point I had been in so much pain for over 24 hours I asked for an epidural, even though I had hoped to have a completely natural birth.

So they did, and I dozed off for quite while. Woke to the urge to push and called the nurse, who checked me and probably figured it would take me hours to push since I had had an epidural. I pushed once and my baby’s head began to crown. So the nurse held his head back for ten minutes until the doctor arrived. Not my doctor, who had agreed to go with my birthing plan, but a doctor I had never meant before. I pushed twice and he was born, experiencing what is called a precipitous birth.

I told the doctor not to cut the life giving cord which would provide him with oxygen while he adjusted to living outside the womb, and he said in a thick Okie accent, “That’s not the way we do it with meconium.” And so he cut the cord and I swear if I had been able to move my legs I would have kicked his hands away. Then they handed my baby to an attendant, who deep suctioned him before giving him a chance to breathe. So during that process, he inhaled meconium and both his lungs burst. And they didn’t notice a thing was wrong with him while they washed him up and checked him out before giving him to me to nurse.

I tried to nurse but he couldn’t. He was breathing but would just back away and I could sense he was distressed, so I asked them to come check him out again. They took him back to the nursery and checked him out again for about twenty minutes and brought him back to me. By this point, he was already beginning to struggle to breathe, and there was no way he was going to be able to nurse. He was fighting for his life. So this time I called them and was adamant that he be checked out more thoroughly immediately, sensing this was a life threatening emergency.

They took him away and wouldn’t talk to me for hours. Every time I called, the only thing they would say was that he was very sick.

My daughter Nina drove the rest of the kids home and lit a candle and prayed, asking God for a sign that her new baby brother was going to be alright. Then she went in the back yard and a thousand birds flew by. And the day before he was born a Monarch butterfly landed on my belly and stayed there (as I sat resting on the patio behind my house in the warm sun) for about half an hour.

Those were both signs from the Heavenly realm. Signs that angels are watching over us, and especially immediately praying for intervention for a close loved one.

It wasn’t until about midnight that the doctor who saved Nick’s life came in and told us what was going on. They had to give him a chest tube twice and when that didn’t work, on a respirator. He also developed hospital acquired Group B strep septicemia, which they found out the next day. It not only got into his blood, it was in his respiratory and urinary systems. So they had him on all kinds of tubes and was strapped down because he kept yanking them out. My baby boy was a true fighter.

They told us not to touch him for it would make him excited but I insisted I must, knowing a mother’s touch can one of the most healing things for a newborn baby. They told me that was okay as long as I didn’t move my hand. So I held my hand on his little arm, or held it on his chest and looked into his hazel eyes and he looked back at me, and his eyes were clear and bright even though they had him sedated so as to not struggle so much and then another medicine to maintain his blood pressure. He told me without words not to worry, not to be afraid, that he would be okay.

His father was very supportive, as was my doctor, who arranged for me to be able to stay in the hospital for three whole days, due to the circumstances. So we stayed with Nick as much as possible, praying the whole time, and then would go to my room where I used a double Medela pump to provide colostrum for my baby. Then we would go to the chapel and weep and pray.

They told us to prepare ourselves for the worst. Fifty percent of babies who only had the Strep died, they said. And Nick was working on healing his lungs. They said the best case scenario would be that he would need to be on a respirator for at least a month.

So we prayed more, our families joining in. And at the end of his third day of life, his father’s sister and husband who is a pastor and their whole congregation were praying for Nick at the same time my mom and a spiritual group of friends were doing the same – one group in Indiana, my mom’s group in Los Angeles. Us in the middle. And right after we got back from the chapel, for we had been praying at that time too, not knowing about the timing of these serendipitous groups of people praying for our son, the nurse came running down to tell us Nicolas was breathing against the respirator, and she had already begun to turn it down. She was so joyous and we burst into tears and rushed to the nursery. His eyes had brightened even more, and we were told we could hold him the next day.

We had to go home that night, but by 5:00 a.m. I was asking if I could return to be with my baby.

The nurses loved us at that point and said yes. And there he was, respirator off, with a little hood for oxygen over him, NG tube pulled out too!

We were both able to hold him that day, and I was able to rock him and give him a bottle of my very own amazing colostrum. And the next day, I was able to finally nurse him. And my milk was already in, thanks to the powerful double Medela pump.

Next time the NICU doctor checked him, I told her we had prayed for a miracle, and she replied, “Well, it certainly worked! He is doing very well, a beautiful baby boy. He’s a fighter.” And she beamed at us.

He was transferred to the regular nursery the next day, but they kept him until he was 9 days old, a joyous day of returning home with our new baby finally. For we had pretty much lived up at the hospital with him until we could take him home.

And now he is an amazing, strong, loving, creative young man, about to turn 22 years old. Out of all of my six kids, only went through this one scary ordeal which turned into a miracle. And even though every baby is a miracle and I love all mine with all my heart, I will always call Nick Nixta Scheid my miracle boy.

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The Hall Of New Beginnings

The Hall Of New Beginnings

Stuck between lifetimes
in the hall of new beginnings

this world between worlds

where infinite possibilities

stretch out
across

the imaginary boundaries
of time, space
And dimensions.

This No Time and No Space –
No-nothingness.

Unrecognized even by my kin
til their own true awakening began,
love and fear intermingled,
as my soul family
saw me for who I am

even hidden behind
that cloak of pain and scars,

for my kin had forgotten
we herald from the stars.

Planted in this dark place
to help new beginnings grow.

My children, now grown,
are my garden.

My offerings are to Spirit
in this world of magic.

Lifting the edge of the veil,
I see it has now been rent,
and know this is the time

we shall see face to face –
Oh Holy Grace.

Oh Holy Shift.

We are ascending.

Namaste.

© Kamea Moonmaiden

Woody Guthrie Festival

The clear and powerful
voice of Judy Collins
singing Diamonds and Rust
met my eager ears
as my friend and I
reached the Fields of Plenty.

My heart burst open wide,
as each song played
to full beauty and perfection,
touching the hearts and souls
of all as each true note lingered
in the clear night sky.

Judy sang This Land is Your Land
in honor of the people’s hero,
champion for human rights,
Woody Guthrie, whose guitar
was a weapon against fascists.

At the campsite earth magic
hung heavy in the air,
shadows loomed large
And people shared their
secret beauty and bluegrass music
throughout the night,
as each circle of players
created perfect harmony,
magical music rose to meet
the majestic silence
of Night and Nature.

Being still inside of me,
the Sun brought my heart
with it as it rose above
the prairie, whispering
to me, “I will drive you crazy,
delight you with my beauty,
amaze you with the awakening
life in the prairie,
I may terrify you with painful nights,
but I will help you face your fears
and force those inner demons
to leave you fearlessly,
for I have you to share
my journey with.”

© Kamea Moonmaiden

Eclipse Eve And Breathing

Eclipse Eve And Breathing

Hello, my friends, how is everyone doing? Lots of different answers – my prayer is that you are doing okay, or even better than okay. For it is apparent that the tsunami wave portion of the Shift has begun in full earnest.

So for every act that leads us into darkness, people will stand up for our fellow human beings, for our drinking water, our air, our planet and all living creatures great and small. It’s good to see people waking up. It’s terribly sad to see people promoting hatred and fear. However, this is so shocking that more and more of us are waking up and singing songs of love.

Every day I pray for the time to be shortened that the suffering may cease.

Every day I am paying more attention to my actions, thoughts and words. Learning radical self-love and being okay with certain things taking me longer than they used to. Giving thanks to still be here, alive and breathing, and finally things are changing on a radical scale.

My visit in California was timely and serendipitous. My whole family welcomed me with open arms. We are all letting go of the past on so many levels. I didn’t even realize how many more layers I still had around me. Being perfectly open to receive and give pure love and good company in return for hospitality. Haven’t had many experiences like that. The memories which sprang up are still hanging out near the front of my mind, rather than in the far recesses, the places iv gain access from.

In addition to attending the Chinese New Year in Chinatown, we stayed in an AIRbnb in Venice which was like a fairy garden house. It’s called The Tree house, and transports you to another dimension moment you step into the gate. An uneven cobblestone pathway, with bamboo trees and tapestries concealing private entrances and signs leading the way to the main courtyard, where two canopied beds face each other in kitty corner fashion, an orange tree and a waterfall cleverly placed on the side of the house leading into a small pond, adding you the magic. A huge clear quartz crystal is on a table near one of the beds, is placed in the ground in front of a door. Three are tiny lights on all the trees, wind chimes and more tapestries give a gypsy feel to the area. The house is 102 years old, and everything that could be repurposed or refinished has been.

The bathroom combines antique and modern with a wonderful three spigoted shower and an old-fashioned four legged bathtub, a skylight, and a huge spider plant under a glass panel in the floor! Under the floor. It was amazing!

There were signs to remind people to clean up after themselves and a set of instructions for making ourselves home in the kitchen.

My sister and I ate salad and then walked down to Venice Beach to watch the sunset for our last night together. She is so sweet! Now we are looking forward to seeing each other again when my youngest son graduates from high school. My baby.

How that happened so quickly is beyond me! After becoming a mother at the age of 16, the majority of my “work” as a mom will be done.

Anyway, I have had to cut back on my spiritual activism a bit because traveling was a bit rough on my neck, but it’s getting better each day. Nowadays, if it does flare up, I pay attention right away! I don’t want to ever have to be in the kind of pain I went through before. For a long time it was that way. Having less pain is, for me, a miracle.

And I only mention it because it’s amazing that I am getting better, because at one time I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. From this point on, I will continue to keep shining and taking good care of me so that I can help many others too.

Deep peace of the stars to you, my friends. I love you all!

Happy Birthday, Blog!

Happy Birthday, Blog!


So today my blog is one year old. So happy to be here. And just knowing that my blog has reached all four corners of the world in its first year makes me very happy. For some day I wish to travel around the world, perhaps doing healing workshops. And definitely writing more poetry and the books that are bubbling up inside of me.

Anyway, right now this little vacation is like the best medicine my heart and soul could ever ask for. I am so thankful for the chance to reunite with my family! Family is such a blessing.

May your paths be blessed, wherever you are, and no matter how crazy things seem, remember we are in the turning of the Ages and we are the ones we have been waiting for.

It poured down rain all morning and into the afternoon, reminding me of this song from the Sixties, It Never Rains in California:

https://m.youtube.com/?reload=7&rdm=1xuoq4453#/watch?v=-pyC7WnvLT4

Time Stretched Into Eternity


Time Stretched Into Eternity

We sat alone all together,
stripped of family, home and liberty
forgotten by so many,
I think they threw away the key
as Time stretched into Eternity
there at the CCDC.

Cleveland County Detention Center
Cold metal, concrete, cold air.
The night they brought me there,
I prayed to God to let me die.
But the ladies put their arms around me,
brought me tissues for my tears.
These women became my new family,
there at the CCDC.

Bright orange scrub sets
of jail clothes we were given.
Old grey scratchy woolen blankets,
such a place I’d never lived in.
Like cattle we were driven
for the food that we were given
as Time stretched into Eternity
there at the CCDC.

The main source of our misery
was that we’d been stripped
of all we held dear.
So many of us had a need to mother,
so we turned to one another,
We listened to each other’s stories,
so many stories to tell.
It stopped feeling so much like hell,
and as our prayer circle did grow
each of us began to glow
there at the CCDC.

To help ease the cold and misery
I began yoga every day.
It made the ladies laugh with glee
at the ways I would bend and stretch
and soon they asked me to show them the way
and the yoga class grew and grew
and we began to feel brand new
during my 97 days
there at the CCDC.

Twelve long years have passed
by so quickly since that time
and I am doing well,
but I know that there in CCDC
somebody’s mother, daughter, sister
is spending yet another day.
There has got to be another way
for the sisters in a world set apart –
each has a story which can break the heart
as Time is still stretching into Eternity
there at the CCDC.

Oh, the freedom of living in the land of trees after 97 days of living in the underground concrete forest was beyond bliss. My friends took me in and comforted me, gave me shelter, had collected my most precious belongings and sent me love and light while I was locked up, gave me hugs and a joyous reunion concert at our favorite local dive. The last song, dedicated to me, was called “Gotta get my baby out of jail” and one of my best friends twirled me around the dance floor and another dear friend picked me up in his arms afterwards and set me on the standing bar. It was our favorite hippie band and so many friends were there, buying me shots and spanking me playfully. After all that time locked up I decided to go out and drink for a few times to celebrate my freedom, but since I hadn’t smoked pot for 97 days, I didn’t partake at all before pleading into Drug Court since I figured it would be easier to go through the diversion program I was scheduled to plead into within sixty days of my release if I just simply abstained. And I was right. Two years and four months i was in that program, and I was on pins and needles the whole time. First there was all the shame for what I had done – selling pot while living close to a school and being the mother of so many kids – my youngest only ages 8 and 5 – was so irresponsible and made the whole community consider me a dangerous person. I didn’t see myself that way – I was so naive. Didn’t think of helping some friends find herb as a bad or dangerous thing, although I was aware it was illegal, I was raised in the counter culture – and all my parents’ friends smoked pot with them. It was their favorite pastime. It was only when they got drunk that things ever went awry, so I thought it was alcohol that was bad, not pot.

And now, thirteen years later, things are definitely changing, but not in the state I live in. Someday I will write a memoir of those 97 days which is much more detailed than this poem. I am thankful to my poetry teacher for getting me to reach inside and personalize it more.

Oh, and please forgive me. And now my daughter is in prison for her problems with addiction to hard drugs, but at least she is in the treatment plan of the place, and it is minimum security. Please forgive me for revealing this. But one thing I would like to emphasize is that both my daughter and I are good people. I got treatment for my problem, and she is getting treatment for hers. I just wish there was treatment available for those without the proper insurance which didn’t have to be so harsh and punitive. Because I am still recovering from the PTSD of the SWAT team that broke down my front door thirteen years ago. I spent years and years making up for my transgressions. Paid thousands and thousands of dollars, went to hundreds of meetings, classes, court every week, was drug tested every week up to three times a week and never failed.

Oh, and when I first began my blog I was in pain management for all the issues with my spine and fibromyalgia. I am happy to say that two weeks after my ovaries were removed I titrated myself off of that pain medication and I am off of them now!!!!!

I consider 2016 a year of tremendous change and it definitely was a year of purification, just like Kaypacha predicted it would be. Thank you all for following my blog, I love you all so much.

May 2017 bring you all many blessings of love, peace, prosperity and good health.

Om namaha shivaya. Rainbow Blessings of Love and Light.

Cleveland County Detention Center


Cleveland County Detention Center

Time stretches into Eternity,
no one knew it could last so long.
Locked down again for another’s fight
we can never right what is wrong.

Forgotten by so many
I think they’ve thrown away the key
and Time stretches into Eternity
here in the CCDC.

They’ve taken away our identity
and everything we hold dear –
some here for an infinity
some know their release is near.
How medieval is our situation
this course which we have taken –
society considers us forsaken
here in the CCDC.

But some have not forgotten
and some prayers are yet heard
none of us are wholly rotten –
being kept so long is quite absurd
here in the CCDC.

So make sure you have a plan.
Be prepared to make a final stand
for Justice, Peace, and Liberty
Here in the CCDC.

Once you’re out, be strong and true
Make sure and follow all the laws too
Because this is a place you
don’t want to return to
here in the CCDC.
No, you don’t want to come back
to a life of hell in the CCDC.

Copyright reserved @ Kamea Moonmaiden 2003

P.S. Now that I have been blogging nearly one year, I decided to reveal this part of my history from many years ago. My offence was for an herb which is now legal recreationally in eight states, with many more about to transition, while medical cannabis is legal in nearly 30 states.

So now you know. Next I will share the revised version I wrote in my Advanced Senior Creative Writing Poetry Class.