Supportive birth partner.
FATHER JOHN’S PERSPECTIVE
by John Rampanen
Supportive birth partner.
My name is John Rampanen. I am Nuu-chah-nulth and Finnish and the proud father of my wonderful children. As a father, I have become increasingly aware of the supportive role and responsibilities associated with fatherhood. This is my story of becoming a father.
I remember hearing the news about the first pregnancy. It was the summer of 1999—a very heated and politically tumultuous year. As a young man, I thrived on the passion and energy revolving around the rights of First Nations and their continuous struggles. I was in my third year of university on Vancouver Island but the desire to experience direct action and assertion of sovereignty was too much to resist. I left school in the spring and set out on the road to connect with real people fighting real battles. I quickly developed as a warrior for my people. As my connections grew, so too did my dedication to the cause. In short order I was hardened as a diehard soldier advocating on behalf of oppressed Indigenous people and protecting the last remnants of our ancestral strength. My path was clear—it was the warpath that called out to me.
Earlier that year, I had my first encounter with the woman who unknowingly was about to change my life forever. Nitanis was (and still is) a beautiful and powerful First Nations woman who shared my passion for the rights of our people. As a young warrior, I made every attempt not to be too obvious with my infatuation. As summer approached, I continued wandering around Vancouver Island and became actively involved with a warrior society that was in its early developmental stages. Fueled with age-old anger and frustration, we brought a voice and face to the hardships that our people endured. I remember taking a trip to Vancouver (a city that I loathed for its pollution and concrete craziness). I again met Nitanis (by this point we had many mutual friends) and she invited me to “hang out.” We spent the evening with friends and family (admittedly fuelled by alcohol). That night Nitanis and I spent the whole night together talking about anything and everything.
I remember her asking me if I wanted to have children in the future. A foreshadowing question I suppose, but I was too young and naïve to recognize it as such. The answer I gave blurted out so quickly that I could not reel it back in. I confessed to her that I wished to have many children. It’s funny because this was not my usual response at that time. She invited me to go along with her on a trip to South Dakota and I agreed. Over the course of the trip, my love for her grew from a young man’s crush to borderline stalker. We spent hours talking and learning more about one another and ourselves. By the time we returned to Vancouver, one week later, it was official: we were inseparable.
While this excitement was great for me, it was not necessarily perceived as such by my warrior brethren. You see, the militaristic nature of our warrior society had cast Nitanis and company as “hippies” in comparison to the bellicose path that lay ahead for us. The news of our union did not come easily. In fact, I recall being taken for a walk and talk. In a secluded East Vancouver alleyway, I was informed of my poor decision and paid the price physically by taking punches to the head and stomach. I was fortunate, I suppose, to be able to choose which path I wanted to follow, as I was approached individually by a number of my warrior brothers. After this incident, I returned home to the Island and consulted with my true brothers (related by blood). In the end, it all worked itself out and my connection to Nitanis only grew stronger.
Shortly after, Nitanis invited me to English Bay in Vancouver. As we sat in the sand, she again asked me about my future and whether or not I intended to have children. This time around, I gave the stoic response that was more expected of me at the time. As I explained my perception of how human beings have become parasitic to this world and only cause more harm than good and how it would be unfair to bring life into this world that was destined for self-destruction, I failed to fully recognize Nitanis’ response to my rants. She instructed me to close my eyes and not to open them until she said so. Obediently, I did as I was told and when she finally allowed me to open them I looked toward the sand and the letters scratched into its surface slapped me in the face:
“I’m pregnant.”
Two words that changed my life, and the focus of my life, forever. Immediately I did my best to backtrack on my previous statements. A determination to turn this world around and to create a healthier and stronger foundation for our future generations was born. In my opinion, that one day was the beginning of the long journey of fatherhood that awaited.
Nitanis and I moved in together shortly thereafter. I had become very close to the Chief and people of Cheam (on the Fraser River) and was moving closer to a decision to settle down in the community for a while. I invited Nitanis to join me on this journey and we soon found ourselves together in a community that was a new beginning for both of us. Throughout the summer, the novelty of pregnancy and the ongoing uprisings on the river kept us very busy. All was seemingly well until Nitanis’ nine-year-old son Tanner returned from his visit up north. Tanner did not take the news well. In fact, he took the news about as badly as it could possibly be taken. To him I was still relatively a stranger, a stranger that had not only taken his mom from him but had also gotten her pregnant and to top it all off had whisked her away to the reserve. Poor Tanner, his world came to a screeching halt and I found myself standing directly in his path.
Tanner hated me with a passion and he made no effort to disguise his hatred. He found many innovative and creative ways to constantly remind me. A month and a half later, Nitanis decided to leave the two of us alone together while she participated in a women’s retreat. I wasn’t afraid of being alone with Tanner but I knew it wasn’t going to be favorable to him. We survived our weekend together and actually bonded. I am fortunate to have an uncanny ability to develop immediate video game skills and this trait was highly esteemed by young Tanner. I helped him pass through some challenging levels of his video game. Unknowingly, he was simultaneously assisting me through some challenging levels in my own life. From that point forward, I am proud to say that Tanner and I became very good friends.
I spent most of that autumn hunting and fishing with friends from the community. We stocked our freezer full of healthy Indigenous foods and lived off nothing but love. Both Nitanis and I had no income at the time but Nitanis was working toward her first video production, “Warriors on the Water.”
Fast-forward seven months and I again found myself in a precarious position. Throughout the pregnancy I did little to nothing in the way of preparing myself for the role of father. My connection with Tanner was great but it did not fully equip me for what was about to happen. As the due date got closer, I became more distant. I maintained my duties as a warrior and diligently manned the roadblock night after sleepless night. Nitanis would visit me periodically and I would notice that each time she was a little bigger. Suddenly the anxiety and fear of becoming a father started to set in. Rather than embrace the change (which earlier on I was so sure I was prepared to do), I opted to isolate myself. My relationship with Nitanis paid the price. In hindsight, I regret this behavior but I also understand that I was a scared young man, living far away from my family, and I did not really know better. I was easily influenced by the wrong and unhealthy options that I surrounded myself with. As a result, I was not present as a support and partner for Nitanis when she needed me the most.
I remember being on duty on the roadblock. By this point, the roadblock had been in place for two months and the energy and enthusiasm it had initially inspired gave way and left only a small handful of diehards. I was on night duty and sat in an old pickup truck. At some point during the night, I fell asleep. I woke to a loud knocking on the window and awoke with a start. It was the Chief and her husband!
My first thoughts were of the fact that I fell asleep while on duty but it quickly became evident that they were not there for that reason. They told me that Nitanis was in labor in Vancouver and that they were there to pick me up. We left as quickly as we could, but unfortunately I was one hour late for the arrival of my first child. I remember navigating the maze of hallways growing more and more anxious with each footstep. As I approached the labor room, I could hear the faint cries of my child beckoning to me. The hospital was sterile, bare, and cold. As I entered the room, I met Kalilah for the first time. Her presence strengthened and empowered me and over the course of the next few months I started to crawl, then walk, and then make huge strides as a father.
I spent time reading and playing guitar for my daughter. We would visit the smokehouse in Cheam and witness the spiritual splendor that it offered. I remember that in her infancy Kalilah would reach skyward and dance and sing along with the spirits that filled the hall. Also around this time, I started to make healthier choices in my own life and was asked to take groups of young men from the community out to the Territory to seek out healthier alternatives in their own lives. This opportunity opened my eyes and suddenly we recognized that there were a lot of unhealthy things happening all round us. Most importantly, I started to feel the distance that I had set between myself and my own home and family on Vancouver Island. When we discovered that we were expecting another child, the decision to return home was easy to make.
Meeting Kalilah for the first time.
Following Kalilah’s arrival, each step forward in fatherhood allowed me to take a more prominent role with subsequent pregnancies and childbirths. Qwyatseek, my oldest son, was our first child born in my hometown of Port Alberni and marked our arrival in my Nuu-chah-nulth ancestral Traditional Territories. Qwy was born at the West Coast General Hospital as we were not quite yet ready to explore the full joys of homebirth. Nonetheless, his arrival was quite emotional for me as it was my first opportunity to be present during delivery and it was my first time cutting the umbilical cord!
With our next child, Nikosis, we knew immediately that we wanted to have a homebirth experience. My role as a father expanded as my responsibilities with Kalilah and Qwyatseek grew during this pregnancy. By the time we neared the anticipated birth date, we had fully prepared ourselves and our home. Nikosis was intended to have a waterbirth but he decided to arrive on his own terms while his mom was laboring in the bedroom. Surrounded by many loving family members and in a peaceful environment, our confidence grew stronger with the fine art of homebirthing.
Proud nuwiiqsu.
Tseeqwatin arrived next. Throughout his pregnancy, we prepared as we had before but this time around we simply did not have our home prepared in the way that we had hoped. As the first labor pains woke Nitanis and me very early in the morning, we chose to make our way to the hospital. This time around we had an assisted birth, with our midwife present, in the sterile hospital environment. Nitanis’ strength shone brightly as she exited the hospital that same day!
Our daughter Chyyah arrived two years later. This pregnancy had its own unique set of challenges with a case of gestational diabetes, but our determination to have her at home was not deterred. With this birth we prepared well in advance for a waterbirth. Homebirthing supplies and other comforts were put in place and this time we were ready regardless of the time of day. During the pregnancy, I was trained by the midwife to check on Baby and was also prepared to check dilation and progress during labor as well as the intricacies associated with handling the umbilical cord, clamping and cutting, and immediate aftercare. With our midwife present, she allowed me to take the lead and as all the perfect aspects aligned during the serene calmness of sunrise, our daughter Chyyah entered into this world in the comfort of a birthing pool.
Her little sister, Hali’dzox, made her way next. With each pregnancy our confidence grew and the decision to have a homebirth came naturally. As with the previous birth, we were prepared well in advance. We invited our midwife to attend but were fully prepared to lead in all aspects throughout the pregnancy and birth. This time around, however, we opted not to have a waterbirth and instead focused on the ambiance and friends and family that would be present. Hali’s delivery came fast and suddenly as she entered into this world in a flash. It was a very proud moment when I caught her in my arms, and it made my first connection with her very memorable.
Each child entered into this world in his or her own unique way, and each time around my roles as a father, birthing partner, and child-deliverer became increasingly more closely connected. I learned how to provide the best available comfort to Nitanis during these moments. I learned how to remain calm and to be ever-present throughout the entire experience and I learned the importance of maintaining a strong and healthy relationship throughout the entire pregnancy. These qualities have crafted a deeper and richer understanding of what it means to be a father and they prepared me for our next and final birth with Kimowanihtow that would ultimately go above and beyond any expectations that we could have ever held of the wonders and joys of the homebirth experience.