A Year Later: Reflecting on Birth

This post contains material that may be considered graphic, as it describes a birth in detail.

The weather has a way of making emotional experiences stick in my memory. Last year, around this time, I was 9 months pregnant (but felt 11 months pregnant). The brisk, cloudy weather has me reminiscing about my greatest accomplishment—and one of God's greatest gifts to me.

Every birth story really begins 40 weeks prior to the delivery. After two very different pregnancies and birth experiences, I firmly believe the pregnancy experience foreshadows the birth experience.

My goal here is to share an empowering story for those looking to be informed of what is possible in childbirth. But to really celebrate the wonderful, natural birth of my son, I must give a little background on my more difficult experience with my daughter.

My Daughter's Birth

When I was pregnant with my daughter, I was afflicted with hyperemesis gravidarum, which is experienced by 2% of pregnant women (NIH). I lost 17 lbs—after I became pregnant—due to the inability to keep food down. My pregnancy could be described as debilitating and exhausting. (Though I never regretted God's gift to us, and I never wondered if it would be worth it. God was able to sustain me and my husband through this trial, bringing us joy and me deeper dependence on my husband.) By God's grace, I was able to focus on abdominal strengthening through the Tummy Team's prenatal course, and I'm certain this had a significant impact, lessening the difficulties of pregnancy and birth.

My daughter's birth was very similar to the pregnancy—I felt weak and experienced many interventions that I had hoped to avoid. I had never been hospitalized before; I hated being plugged into machines and feeling powerless. It felt like birth happened to me. I was anxious afterward for a while, as well. I couldn't even get up to hold my baby when she cried.

Thank God for healing and learning from past experiences.

Being Pregnant With My Son

In the two years between giving birth and getting pregnant again, I focused a lot on treating some underlying health conditions that I believed could have contributed to my illness during pregnancy. I knew that it would be very challenging to take care of my daughter if I experienced another debilitating pregnancy. I was encouraged by stories from friends who had experienced "empowering births." And I began to do what I do best when I worry about something—research. I read some of Ina May's Guide to Childbirth, describing the history of childbirth across cultures and time periods.

I watched the Built to Birth videos by Bridget Teyler, particularly the video of her home birth, probably 20 times. I focused on my overall health, diet, muscle strengthening, and exercise. I was proactive to anticipate things that contributed to my nausea, and I was able to experience a much more empowered pregnancy. I used essential oils, magnesium, and prenatal vitamins for support. I worked on lots of hands-and-knees and inverted positions—I did NOT want to give birth laying on my back again.

I selected a prenatal care provider that believed women had the innate ability to give birth without intervention and valued and supported their empowerment and choices in their pregnancy and birth. I felt respected and informed more than I had in my first pregnancy. I listened to the Christian Hypnobirthing app to meditate on Scripture and positive affirmations. I was so much more in tune with my body. I actually enjoyed this pregnancy!

My Son's Birth

I thought I was going into labor probably at least twice before I actually did. I had what's known as "prodromal labor," meaning that, as I understand it, I experienced a long, drawn-out stage of early labor. For about four weeks, I experienced pelvic floor heaviness, Braxton-Hicks contractions, "lightning crotch," and night wakings with low back pain. And, because of my research and positive mindset I had striven to cultivate, these signs made me feel excitement rather than anxiety.

Four days before my due date, I was beyond ready for baby boy to make an appearance. He was sooooo heavy, and I was pretty uncomfortable. My daughter had been born 4 days before her due date, so I decided it was okay to start encouraging labor along.

I diffused Clary Sage and Rosemary essential oils all day (oils I had previously avoided due to their potential to support the labor process). I curb-walked around the park with my daughter that afternoon. At 8 PM, I was folding laundry and watching The Chosen, when my water broke. Thirty minutes later, the contractions began. They were about 7 minutes apart, but very quickly increased in frequency and intensity. My husband contacted my midwife—though, in retrospect, I should have talked to her myself—who advised us to wait until 11 PM before coming in to the birth center. I couldn't talk through my contractions at this point, so I probably should have gone in. I was very focused, employing my "mooing" (or "J breathing") technique. We called my mom to come watch my daughter, and left as soon as we could. We got in the car to leave, and my husband realized he had forgotten his wallet. We turned around, and I had to get out of the car in the driveway to manage a contraction before we left the second time. That drive was the hardest part of the birth process—I was already in active labor and being strapped into a seatbelt when I wanted to be on my knees was agony. (So, mamas, trust yourselves!) I did manage to text my friend, Natalie, who had offered to be a support person during my birth. It was a somewhat last-minute decision on my part, but she was essentially my doula and made all the difference!

When we got to the birth center around 12 AM, I had to stop in the middle of the tiny parking lot to manage a contraction. I knew it was getting close. As soon as they brought us into the birthing suite, I asked if I could get into the birthing tub. I knew the warm water would provide the relief I needed. I think I was further along than they had expected. They checked my vitals and then I got into the water with my husband, who applied counter pressure to my lower back. This physical touch and his proximity was also so pivotal in creating a supportive, peaceful, and empowering atmosphere. I asked for nitrous oxide pretty quickly (my backup plan), which tells me I was already in transition at this point. They got it set up.

When Natalie arrived, she remembered to put on my "push playlist" (mostly calming worship music), apply essential oils (which I had done a ton of research on, but was not in any state of mind to focus on at that point), offer me my water bottle regularly, and give me words of affirmation and encouragement.

I tried the nitrous oxide, but I couldn't really hold the mask and hold myself up in the tub at the same time, and I nearly passed out after a couple of breaths, so I opted out. But the little reprieve was helpful as I floated in the water in my husband's arms before the next stage of exertion.

I remember pointing at Natalie and saying, "I want you to keep talking to me." She laughed and continued offering supportive words. She says she prayed for me, and while I don't specifically remember it, I'm sure it helped.

1:08 AM. I remember the song, Jireh, was playing on the bluetooth speaker. ("And I will be content in every circumstance. You are Jireh; You are enough.") After pushing for who knows how long (I am terrible at estimating time periods, and apparently no one was timing things at this point!), my midwife caught our baby boy and passed him up to me, and I sat back into my husband's arms. I murmured over and over to baby boy, "We did it! We did it!"

I felt such peace and joy and love in that moment. No beeping, nothing foreign attached to my body. Just me and my baby and my husband in a warm tub for a moment. I felt strong and coherent and at peace. The hours that followed were more of the same. A peaceful introduction into the world for my son.

We were home by 1 PM that afternoon, with my daughter holding her new baby brother for the first time.

My son's middle name is derived from a word meaning "peace." His birth was so full of peace, an answered prayer. Bwana asifiwe! Praise the Lord!

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Photo by Shannon Pitter on Unsplash