My Birth Story is an Expectful series honoring all birth experiences—the beautiful, difficult, empowered, and messy. If you want to share your birth story with us, please fill out this form.
The night before my daughter's birth, around 5:30 p.m., the anxiety tried to creep in—the questions of when, how, what if. But I decided it was time to be at peace. I made plans for a family movie theater outing, when I suddenly noticed a trickle, nothing like what the movies show or the stories I had heard of the big burst. Nonetheless, it was a clear sign that labor had begun.
I called my midwife and we made plans for the early morning. I prepped my bag one last time and tried to sleep. In the morning, we met my midwife at the birth center, and she used her bag of tricks to encourage labor to progress. I opted for acupuncture, a drink of castor oil, a membrane sweep, and a side-lying release. That combination got my contractions in gear almost immediately.
The midwife allowed me to head back home to labor until the time was right to go to the Holy Family Birth Center. I walked barefoot in our grassy yard, snacked, powdered my nose, and sang worship music between contractions. I felt such freedom and peace laboring from home for those three hours. I had no constraints holding back my movement or stopping me from doing what felt best for me. My labor was progressing quickly, and my doula arrived just in time for me to explain that I felt things intensify. I told everyone we needed to leave the house right then and there.
On the van ride to the birth center, I reached transition. I rode sideways in the backseat so I could grip the car handle and the bucket seat in front of me. My very pregnant doula was seated beside me offering counter pressure with each intensifying contraction.
The drive to the birth center felt like a dream. I saw the faces of the drivers passing us and wondered if they knew that the woman next to them was close to delivering her baby?
Things were moving along as my team quickly got everything set up. Suddenly, there was a moment of concern. My midwife couldn’t find the baby’s heartbeat. My heart raced and my spirit welled up with the conviction that, if necessary, I would do anything it took to bring my baby safely into my arms. I was prepared for my daughter’s birth to go in any direction, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I wouldn't let fear creep in the same way it had during my prior labor.
Four years earlier, my planned birth center birth had turned into a hospital birth. There was so much fear-mongering and intervention that surrounded the delivery of my son, Sol. During that labor, I felt constrained by all the wires keeping me tied in place, and I didn't know how to advocate for myself.
I did a lot of work after that to shift my mindset away from fear. I wanted to figure out what was within my power to ensure a peaceful and empowered birth with my second baby. What I learned is that birth, like everything else in life, has a level of unpredictability. But it's the fear that takes the largest toll if you don’t learn how to manage it. I educated myself on physiological birth, the idea of a birth powered by the innate human capacity of the birthing woman and unborn child. I followed several social media accounts that share positive birth resources and stories. I also downloaded the Christian Hypnobirthing app, and their Scripture-based birth affirmations and visualizations helped me completely shift my mindset.
As I waited while my wise and discerning nurse-midwife calmly handled the situation, I heard mumbling prayer fill the room, and then, there it was. The sweetest sound I've ever heard—my baby's heartbeat, strong and safely tucked away deep behind my hip.
After her heartbeat rang out, I labored on all fours, standing, squatting, changing locations from the living space to the shower. Around me, my husband, our midwife, and a dear friend spoke gentle words of encouragement. We were surrounded by flowers and branches that we had cut from the trees of the home of my daughter's grandma and great-grandma, so she would be circled by the women who came before her.
When I knew the time was close, the warm bath was right where I wanted to be. My baby and I worked together. I could feel her kicks and my body urged me to push. I felt her head crowning. I didn't know it was possible to not feel pain while experiencing such intensity, but I honestly felt peace more than anything. Her head was born, and I took a few breaths. Then her body was born into the warm water and caught by my husband, who handed our daughter, Paloma Leta, to me.
The one thing I remember thinking during the entirety of my time at the birth center was how much dignity and respect I felt from the entire team. In the most vulnerable moments standing naked and messy, where fear or stress might have tried to creep in, I felt cared for and empowered to do what I was designed to do. It really was such a dreamy experience.
My labor was a story of redemption. It was proof that even if you’ve had a previous birth that went off course, your dreams for your next one can be restored.
As told to Allison McNearney
