More Babies Prefer Home Birth

God ALWAYS Answers Prayers!

As a woman enters a pregnancy, she starts down a path that will present her with many opportunities for learning and personal growth. Miriam’s birth was no exception to this. As this was my fourth pregnancy, I wasn’t new to this journey and was eager to see where this one would take me.

The first decision we made in regard to this pregnancy was to give birth at home without a midwife or doctor in attendance. In the “birth world” this is referred to as an unassisted birth. Most people you visit with will find this idea extremely dangerous, but there is a small group of people who see the value to this way and of course there are some who even think it’s the only way to give birth. After our journey through this pregnancy and birth, I can honestly say I actually fit in the middle of the road on this issue.

Our prior births were wonderful! Each was vaginal, natural births. The first was at a hospital with one of the midwives on call. Our second and third births were at home with a midwife. Each experience was life changing. As we prepared for our fourth birth, it was time to evaluate how we wanted to do it. After much soul searching and prayer, we came to the conclusion that it was time to do it on our own. By choosing to give birth unassisted, we knew that many people would not understand and ever sadder yet, wouldn’t want to try to understand. Because of this, we kept our decision quiet.

Thankfully this pregnancy was a normal one because the mental battles it provided were enough. At the end of pregnancy, I found myself quite swollen due to poor nutritional choices earlier. While I was uncomfortable because of this, I learned much about how the body reacts to the foods I eat. Each discomfort provides an opportunity to learn and to grow!

Around the eighth month, I decided to write my baby’s birth story as if it had already happened. It was a fun project to do and I found myself really sinking into the story and believing it. But then I set the story aside and forgot about it. As the weeks rolled by, normal mom fears about birth started to sink in. The problem with this for me was that I teach childbirth education, I am a doula, I am a student midwife, I basically preach a trust birth message to all I meet because I feel so deeply that birth is safe. Fueling these deep feelings that birth is safe, is a deep faith in my Creator. He created me, He created birth, He didn’t make any mistakes. What you put your energy into, you will create. If you put it into worry and fear, you can create the very thing you are worried and fearful of. I did not want to be in this state. I did not want to allow those worries and fears to drive me. It’s ok to have some fear and worry, it motivates you to learn more, to be better, to grow, but you can not allow yourself to “live” in that state.

I reached a point in my fear where I could no longer see the birth past the labor. I could not imagine a baby at the end. If I dared to picture the baby, I could not picture the baby breathing. It was a terrible place to be. And yet, in spite of being in such a crummy place, I recognized that I had a huge opportunity for growth here. I knew that this birth was going to be amazing and I knew that it would prepare me for my next big adventure in the birth world. Because of this, I needed to tackle these fears and I needed to exert dominion over the enemy who was trying to control me. I was in the car one day; near the end of the pregnancy, really feeling overwhelmed and knew it was time to put an end to it. I told myself, “I TRUST BIRTH AND I TRUST BIRTH’S CREATOR!” Mind you, I didn’t just think it; I chanted it out loud in the car as I drove, over and over and over again. With tears streaming down my face I started to believe once more in my body and in birth. That night at home in my office, I pulled out the birth story I had written about 4 weeks prior and read it again. There it was! My baby was born! My baby took a breath! My baby was healthy! By reading my story again, I was able to once again see beyond my fears and my worries! I was able to believe in myself, my body, my baby! I found out later that several friends, who had already committed to pray for me and my baby, had been prompted that same evening to pray even more for me. God knew I needed a little extra boost that night to get over the hump of my battle.

The thing is, as I was walking through this battlefield of doubts, worry and fear, I knew deep within me, that this was a good thing. That if I did it right, I would come out on the other end stronger and more prepared. Knowing this didn’t necessarily make the journey an easy one, but maybe a tad easier to understand. While I was going through this, unknown to me, my husband was battling with some doubts and fears himself. He is a man of great faith and trust in the human body. While he was fighting this, God spoke to him and told him it wasn’t his battle to go through, it was mine. I was the one who needed to go through this. God’s plans are so great and so much bigger than any of us can envision and He knew I needed this opportunity.

After I conquered my fears that night, the last two weeks of my pregnancy went by relatively well. I was tired, I was swollen, I was ornery, I was ready for my baby, but these are normal end of pregnancy discomforts. The battle I had to fight had been conquered. I was ready for the labor and birth to begin!

For several years I had been reading about pain free birth. It is completely possible for a woman to have a pain free birth. Naturally, I wanted one! The problem with pain free births is that in our society, we literally grow in the womb of a woman who doesn’t believe or even know of a pain free birth. From that moment until the moment we give birth, we are surrounded with the belief that birth is painful. Because of that deep belief, it generally is painful. Some women are able to break that pattern of belief and achieve the pain free birth that I was praying for. In other societies, pain free birth is the norm and it is from them, that women have begun to dream of this possibility.

Two days after my due date, on a Friday, I left by myself to run some errands. I returned home at 5pm and went to use the bathroom. As I was finishing up, the thought ran through my head, “I wonder when I’m going to lose my plug”. With the previous births, I had lost my plug just prior to going into labor and so for me, this is a sign of labor approaching soon. As I stood from the toilet, I felt something release and a gush of fluid! How ironic the timing of that thought followed by that release! When I looked at the “goop”, however, it looked yellowy-green. I had always read that green fluid is a sign of meconium and is not a good thing. While this wasn’t dark like the green I had envisioned, it made me concerned. I showed Jon and we talked about it. I had prayed very hard that if a reason arose for the need to go to the hospital, that God would really hit me over the head with it, because it was going to take a big thing to get me to leave my home. I know that if we went in because of this, it would lead to an induction which leads to a lot more pain which can frequently lead to a cesarean which can lead to NICU for baby…simply a road I wanted to avoid. I started to believe that this was simply another test for me. In the end, I was correct, it was nothing more than the mucous and when baby came out there was no sign of meconium at all.

Within thirty minutes of the water rupturing, the contractions began. Nothing wild and crazy, nothing overly demanding, but they were there and they were consistent. While we did not intend on having a midwife at the birth, we did have two friends committed to helping us. One was here to help with the boys and all the other little miscellaneous things that crop up at a birth and the other to video the birth for us. The first one had an hour drive, so it was hard to know when was the right time to call these ladies to come. Each of my births have gone faster, the last being only 5 hours, so I didn’t want to stall too long in calling them.

By nine in the evening, 4 hours after the water ruptured, both friends were here, everyone waiting upon my body and the baby’s to get to work! But nothing really happened and at ten the kids went to bed and Jon and I laid down in the living room to take a nap. The friends were supposed to rest, too, but they had more difficulty! Jon spent the time praying, I dozed in and out trying not to dwell on things I have little control over. During the next two hours, the contractions slowed down even more and even felt like they had stopped. I found myself wondering if I was really in labor or if I had made a mistake.

Two hours later, at midnight I awoke to use the bathroom. When I finished, I went into the toy room where one of the friends was waiting. She was simply doodling and waiting. She said she was too excited to sleep. This was the first birth she had even been to that didn’t include her own births. As we started to chat, the contractions started to come. This time they were stronger and sharper, lasting a full minute and returning about 3 minutes later. It was nice to know that I hadn’t been fooled by my body, that I was really in labor! Within a few minutes of joining the first friend, the other one somehow knew we were up and she joined us as well. By a quarter after midnight, Jon was up and sitting in our circle as well. We sat and chatted quietly, though I have no memory of what we were talking about. As a contraction came on, we were quiet as I worked with it and then conversation would return. It didn’t take long before I was moving around trying different positions to work through the contractions because they were getting more and more uncomfortable. I sat on the futon; on the futon with my feet raised; leaning forward, on my squatting chair; on the squatting chair leaning on the exercise ball; seated on the ball; kneeling on the floor, resting on the ball…yep…I tried everything I could think if. I finally came to the conclusion, nothing was comfortable and it wasn’t looking good for my pain free birth.

Around 2:30 in the morning, I decided I was ready to get into the pool. Jon had prepared it hours before and it was ready for me! It was actually still too warm and had to be cooled down, but I was able to slip into the warm comfort and get a short breather with the contractions. The transition into the water caused my body to skip a contraction, so instead of them being two to three minutes apart, I had a six minute break. That was nice! Our oldest son was brought down shortly after that. He was eight at the time and was very excited to be a part of the birth and was well prepared. He came down, sat quietly and took a few pictures for me. He’s a very caring boy and knew to be still for me. His presence, which was at the birth of his siblings, has always brought me peace in various ways. I held his hand through one contraction and squeezed it hard at one point…partly because I needed to, partly to show him the intensity of what I was feeling. At the end of the contraction, he looked at me with wide eyes and said, “You were really squeezing hard!”

I stayed in the pool for about 2 hours, until the baby was born. Like labor outside the pool, I had to try all the different positions, struggling to find the right one. Somewhere along the way, I asked Jon to get into the pool with me. He sat in front of me and as a contraction started in, we would grasp hands and I could squeeze his hand and sort of pull with it. It looked an awful lot like we were arm wrestling! But it worked well. There were two distinct moments where I recognized the baby was pushing from the inside. I could feel the little feet pushing off from the top of the fundus, helping with the birth! At 4am I asked that the other two brothers be woke up. Jon wasn’t sure it was the right time, but I could sense we were getting close and I needed to know everyone was where they were supposed to be. I didn’t want anyone to miss the moment.

Sometime after I got into the pool, I finally had to acknowledge that the pain free birth I had been praying so hard for wasn’t going to happen. I was mad! I had wanted that pain free birth so bad and here I was, going through the exact same labor I had with my last child. In my last labor, at one of the final contractions, I was literally biting my hand because the contraction was so strong! I didn’t want his labor all over again. Needless to say, I was pouting and unhappy. But then I realized, just like when I had to tackle my worries and fears prior to labor, I had to tackle my bad attitude about the labor. I remember one distinct break between contractions, when I chose to turn inward. My eyes were open and I was staring off into nothing. In my head, I was giving myself a very stern talking-to. I told myself “You need to stop moping about not getting a pain free birth. God is with you right now! He is holding you up and supporting you! You are not alone! This is the last baby you are going to have and this baby deserves a dignified birth, just like it’s brothers received! It’s time to grow up and stop whining!” The funny part is, from the outside, it look like things are going great, that I had a good handle on the situation. The reality was, I did not! But after that two minute “mind-lashing”, I was much better!

Leading up to pushing the baby out, I had been seated forward, facing Jon, in a position that would be convenient for catching the baby (I had done this the last time and wanted to repeat it with this birth). But at the last moment, I decided to turn around, and rest at the wall of the pool on my knees. I had never pushed on my knees before, this was new to me, but was right for this baby. I could feel it was time to bear down, hard! I could feel from deep within me that this baby will be here very soon! And I was right! The head crowned and while my brain kept saying, feel your baby’s head, I couldn’t get my hand to obey. Jon suggested that I reach down and feel the baby’s head and I am very grateful for that, because I was able to obey him. There was the sweetest, softest, little head at my fingertips. I had waited nine long months for this first touch of heaven! With barely a pause, I muttered to Jon, get ready to catch the rest. I knew the contraction wasn’t going to let up and that the baby was ready to burst out. I could feel the burning and wanted to push gently with it, but the baby was ready to be with us now! One friend thought I was pushing without a contraction and was worried I would tear. Jon wasn’t planning on catching so I when I said to get ready, his response was confused. Within moments, the head was out! I had a moment to catch my breath and then I was pushing the shoulders out. They seemed like more of an effort to release, but then they were out and the rest of the baby slithered out. Jon’s hands were there and without actually catching, he pushed the baby between my legs and I looked down to see my baby “swimming” towards me. I scooped the baby up and leaned back with my prize on my chest!

Within moments, the baby started to take its first little breaths and start crying. When I was confident baby was fine, I prepared to take a peak at the gender. While I envisioned a little penis, I discovered there was none! It was our first girl, Miriam Rose! She was perfect! The rest of the postpartum was just wonderful. Prayers being answered left and right! The placenta came with ease, but strong enough to let me know it was coming. We did the breast crawl with baby and allowed her to find the breast on her own. Nursing was successful! The big brothers were filled with joy! And Jon and I, we were stunned and elated over the beauty of this birth and its journey!

I prayed for a pain free birth. What I received was a fear free birth. It took me a few days to recognize this, but it’s true. God could have given me a pain free birth, but I don’t know what one looks like or feels like. I would have been lost. What He gave me was a birth I KNEW! I knew what was happening with this labor. I knew what would come next because I had already walked this labor before. Because of this, while there was pain, there was no fear. The greatest gift, beyond the baby of course, came after the birth. As I look back up the births of my second and third sons, I generally felt pain and an overwhelming sense of discomfort. We like to say that women forget the pain of birth after the birth and while some do completely, many of us hang on to parts of it. I certainly did with those two births. But I discover with this last one, within hours after the birth, I could look back upon the birth, the contractions, the pain, and feel nothing but joy. God took away the pain AFTER the birth! What a beautiful gift to receive!

About six weeks after Miriam’s birth, this verse was mentioned at church.
(James 1:2-4) Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.
I felt it best spoke of all I learned and gained through Miriam’s pregnancy and birth! It was well worth the mental battles that we walked through!

{If you’d like to share your own home birth story, please use the form at right to submit it.}

To know how tremendous this experience was I have to share my varied birthing history. My first was a c-section after a very long labor, it traumatized me, at one point I had to beg for a nurse to remove her hands from my vagina. It took me a while to heal, but I found a way through. My second was a planned homebirth, expecting to be more like a first timer, and thus a long labor the pain and intensity of the contractions scared me into a non-emergent transfer. He was born 17 minutes after our arrival at the hospital. I now lovingly refer to it as the comical train wreck. When we found we were expecting again in July 2009 I had no doubt we’d be having a homebirth.

The day of my first due date I was urged by my midwife to enjoy my husband and do some walking. It was March and to my luck the weather was gorgeous. I however was miserable, I had even shared my thoughts of “pregnancy you’ve won, you own my soul!” A final surrender of sorts. My husband took my 2 older sons out of the house the day after my first due date and allowed me to rest, be miserable, wallow, cry, whatever felt good and I took full advantage. I enjoyed ice cream, and pineapple, a chick flick, a hot shower and a nap. When he returned it was time to make dinner, we planned a family indoor picnic complete with a movie. Afterwards we were going to take advantage of the lovely weather while my mom was kept an eye on the big boys.



We left a little after 6pm, my husband lost the bet of when I’d go into labor which we joked about during our long walk. I did some curb walking during our outing knowing it’s supposed to improve fetal positioning, I had a feeling my little one’s head wasn’t well flexed like it should be. With one foot in the gutter, and the other foot on the curb I walked for half a block then alternated and put the opposite foot in the gutter and on the curb. It really got the baby to descend and I had to squat, wiggle and waddle to accommodate the now lower baby in my pelvis. Then I had a contraction, not abnormal at this point in pregnancy, but this was a little different because I had to hold on to my husband and sway my hips. We had some distance to go to get home so we continued to enjoy our conversation and the warm air. A few blocks later another contraction that I had to stop and hold onto my husband again through. I was not getting my hopes up for anything other than some improved fetal positioning and some freebie centimeters before the real show. We were about 4 blocks from home when my mom called us, my 2 year old wanted to know where we were. As soon as I saw my 2 year old, he jumped into my arms, I let go of the thought of labor and the contractions seemed to stop. My sweet “baby” boy was a welcomed distraction.

The thing about 2 year olds is once they know where you are they will happily run off to do something else, and so he did. I decided to sit down at the computer and check on my other expecting March mamas. After a while noticed I was having these beautiful sensations, they felt so good I was afraid to move and make them stop. I could feel my uterus pull up on the lower uterine segment, when it would come to a peak my upper uterine segment would press down, peak, then both sensations faded together. It was such a glorious sensual sensation. Rhythmic, ecstatic. I thought, maybe these are contractions so I searched for a contraction timer. And timed my sensations They we coming every 2-5 minutes lasting 10seconds to 1 minute. I watched this for almost an hour before the energy of the sensations required my attention. I expanded the screen to show my husband but he didn’t quite get it. “Contractions” I said, he now knew we needed to get to work. I decided we should blow up the tub and prep the bed, just in case it was labor. I told my husband if I was still contracting after we finished getting our room prepped I would call the midwife and let her know something was happening, or possibly nothing. At 8:30, after an hour and half of contractions, we were done with the room and I made the call. We both agreed a shower would be good for getting rest but I couldn’t stop moving and felt like I had to do a million things, so I did them. We finally laid down around 10pm to unwind. We watched some TV and cuddled our cosleeping 2 year old, at 10:30 we turned the lights out. From 10 to 10:30 I had no sensations so I really relaxed and was ready to drift off to sleep and greet the next morning still pregnant.

Within minutes of drifting off I sat up and said “nope I can’t lay down” and tried to get in the shower, as my midwife had suggested earlier but I also told my husband to call the midwife. A wave of nausea hit, follow by trembling that I couldn’t control. I got in the shower but it felt all wrong, I needed to be submerged. As I went to step out I released some pink fluid, my water broke(or so I thought). My husband handed me the phone, the midwife was letting me know she was in her car and on her way. I couldn’t focus so I gave the phone back to my husband. I needed the tub filled so I called my mom down to do that for me. In a blur I got my robe on, my birthing necklace on (beads sent from my fellow March mamas), got candles put up, had my husband light them, got my birth ball, and got to work. Every few minutes, or seconds it felt like, I had to get on my hands and knees and rock against the ball. The sensations were so much bigger than me I had to let them out. Tears of joy would pour from me, I couldn’t stop smiling with every wave and I couldn’t stop myself from saying “Yes baby!” “I love you baby!” “Oooopen.” The bigger the sensations got the louder my mantra got, the bigger my smile got. I felt so right, so good. The room was suddenly empty but I couldn’t resist the pool any longer and I got in. I felt so sensual and feminine.

Finally my husband came back, I asked him get the camera so he could take pictures, he made me smile for a picture. Around this time I realized that our clock was 15 minutes fast and asked my husband to change it to the right time since we’d need it for the time. It was 11pm. My hair was still mostly wet from the shower and sticking in my face. I requested a hair tie but as soon as I got my hair put up I tried to sit down and another contractions, a different kind of contraction forced me out of the reclining position I was in back onto hands and knees leaning on the birth tub’s edge and oh my goodness I had to poop! I immediately told my husband “I need to poop, call the midwife.” He asked if I needed permission to poop, I smiled to myself at his silly question but just said “yes” because I knew it wasn’t a bowel movement, it was the urge to push. All the trembling and nausea had been transition.

He got the midwife on the phone. One of the fears we had discussed was pushing and waiting until I had to push. After the first sensation with the urge, the next sensation I said “no,no,no” to and immediately I was in pain. I realized that I wouldn’t be able to not push, this was the first and last time the whole labor when anything hurt. With the next sensation I didn’t fight and the pain was gone. My husband still on the phone was being reminded to remind me to breathe just keep breathing, slowly and deeply. This is exactly what I needed. I couldn’t help myself I had to bear down. It was a bit of a test push, because if it hurt I wasn’t going to push! I’d rather stay pregnant forever. To my surprise and delight, and with a little clitoral stimulation, it didn’t hurt. My husband tried to give me the phone but I was busy, I was birthing. I reached down to feel and the bag of water was coming down. I could feel baby’s hairy head inside the bag of water. I bared down again, my hands eager and ready to touch my baby. I kept feeling, I could feel where the outer bag had broken but the inner bag was intact. I bared down again, time for the big stretch, I expected the ring of fire but once again the sensation surprised me with good feelings instead. His head was born still in the bag of water. Without thought I stuck my fingers in the bag right below his chin and gently tore it away from baby’s head. I could feel a head full of thick hair. The last contraction to bring baby earth side came, still without pain, and I asked someone to catch the baby, but no one knew how fast things had happened or that I had been pushing at all. I grunted and bared down for the 4th time and he was out, I lifted my leg over him and sat to grab my baby. He was gorgeous and COVERED in vernix, it was creamy and soft, and he was so warm and wet. I was in love, I could not believe that I had just birthed my baby with only his family present. He arrived 8 minutes after my husband changed the time on the clock, with only 4 pushes. He opened his big eyes to look at me then started to breathe.



He turned a beautiful shade of pink. I wrapped him in a towel, our midwife which was still on the phone with my husband, suggested I get onto a chux pad for the placenta. I thought this idea was brilliant, the tub wasn’t full enough for my liking and was fast becoming chilled. A little wobbly I got out and walked the 2 feet or so to my bed where my husband had laid a chux pad on the bed. I sat down and mentally told myself “it’s time to let go[of the placenta]” I felt a contraction again and felt the placenta slide down, so I gave a little push and the placenta came out half way. I knew the placenta had detached so I felt comfortable assisting it out the rest of the way. So I picked it up and plopped it in a bowl, it was huge and gorgeous as I imagined it to be. Shortly after I birthed the placenta the assisting midwife arrived. She hugged us and told us how fantastic we all were, everything was just so perfect and calm she jumped into the clean up. Our midwife arrived not too long after. I was quickly examined for tears per my request, and nothing not even a skid mark, a perfectly intact perineum. I felt so relieved. Everyone was busy while baby and I cuddled, which I appreciated. I was given drinks and food to refuel though I wasn’t hungry. After a while we were ready to cut the cord, for the first time my husband got to cut the cord. This felt like the right time to allow daddy his first moments with his new son. My midwife and I did the post partum bathroom trip which was smooth sailing. I came back to the room and got my pajamas on, climbed into bed and was ready to do the newborn exam. I got to be the one to “examine” his palette, we measured his head which was smaller than I expected, were awed by all his hair, giggled at his length which was the same as his older brothers, then finally got to weigh him and diaper him. My sweet midwives made me a placenta smoothie and sang us a beautiful birthing day song and said goodbye 3 hours after the birth. It was my perfect birth!

{If you’d like to share your own home birth story, please use the form at right to submit it.}

The UC of Isaiah Gideon

I just don’t know if there are words to do justice to the way my baby boy came into this world. To put it simply and maybe best, it was a little piece of heaven. I’ve never been closer to God or my family as I was in the moments he was born and after. As a mama who has had 2 cesareans and one hospital vba2c, this birth is incredibly special to me.

I wrote his birth story, 2 weeks to the day after he was born, and here it is:

I have a hard time believing how amazing his birth was. I feel like I dreamed it all. While I was pregnant I only hoped, dreamed, that it would be what it was. I would live and relive those moments over and over again if I could and will draw on that experience any time in my life that I need strength or courage. Because of his birth I know myself better. His birth was about responsibility from the start. During pregnancy I was responsible for taking the best care of myself that I ever have in my life. During the 2 years prior to his birth I took responsibility for preparing and educating myself about birth and every possible path that birth could take. I surrounded myself with people who were also educated about birth. But ultimately in my mind, my soul, I had a perfect picture of what this birth would be and it was.

What it wasn’t was dramatic. Or scary. Or painful. It wasn’t anything that people typically envision in a birth. And it was nothing like you see on t.v. By all means, Isaiah’s entrance into this world would probably be classified by some, as boring.

A boring birth.

But really, I would not call it boring. Sure, it wouldn’t make for good t.v. but I wouldn’t call it boring. I would call it peaceful. Joyous. Beautiful. Calm. Relaxing. Even triumphant.

On July 22nd at 3:00 pm my family who had just visited prior to leaving for their trip to Hawaii for my brother’s wedding was getting ready to say goodbye. My husband worked the night shift that night and he woke up as they were leaving to see them off. At 3:30 he was getting ready to go to work and I sat down on the couch to relax after a long day. My 3 girls, 5, 3, and 1 were playing. They had woken early that morning and my 1 year old was getting very tired after a long day with no nap. We had spent the day shopping and having ‘girl’ time together as I knew that things would get busy when the baby arrived.

When I sat down on the couch I felt the baby drop. It happened very quickly and noticeably. Shortly after that I had this feeling that labor would be starting soon. By 4:00 Nick was ready to go to work. I wasn’t having regular contractions, just the same Braxton hicks/ prodromal labor that I had experienced for weeks prior. Instinctually I knew that it was going to happen that night. I just knew. I let him know this but told him to go to work anyway ’just in case it wasn’t’. We all said goodbye and he was off to work. It took him about an hour to get to work and would take him another hour to get home. By 5:00 I was still not having regular contractions. They were still the same and still barely noticeable. I cleaned my house, helped my girls get ready for bed, washed all the laundry and took care of anything that I knew I wouldn‘t want to worry about once the baby did arrive. I was doing these things instinctually and that instinct was telling me that baby would b! e on the way very soon. I took a bath because I was tired and just wanted to relax. I sang along to my Ipod and could hear my older girls singing along from in their room while they were playing with their toys. I called Nick at work. He called back just after 5:00 and I told him he should come home or he might miss the birth. He was home by 6:00 and I was playing barbies with our girls. Our 1 year old had fallen asleep and it was just my oldest 2 still awake. When Nick got home he thought maybe my call was a false alarm. I was calm, relaxed, and not in pain. I did ask him to rub my back because it was tired after a long day. I was still keeping busy and my girls helped me switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer. It was almost 7:00 and I decided to lay down and rest a little. Still no regular or painful contractions. I went to the bathroom and half expected some signs of labor but nothing.

I went to go back to our room and lay down when my dh said, something along the lines of ‘so, we’ll have the baby tomorrow maybe?’ He was thinking he could go to sleep. I said, ‘no, baby will be here soon’. It was after 7:00 (7:15? I’m not sure…time is fuzzy at this point) I couldn’t sit still. I needed to be moving, pacing, walking, and I walked down our hall, into our living room, and then back into the bathroom. That was transition. It lasted about 5 minutes from the time I told Nick baby would be here soon and it never hurt. It was also the only time I had a regular contraction pattern or contractions that felt slightly more noticeable than Braxton hicks. My body then started to bear down. I wanted to be in the tub at first and the feeling of the water from the shower was very relaxing and soothing. Nick checked in on me and I think he finally believed that baby was going to be born soon. I reached down and felt the bag of water bulging. I told him that i! t was very close. Then I wanted to be out of the tub. I got out and Nick gave me towels to dry off. I made my way to our room and onto our bed.

Once I got on the bed I reached down again and felt a hairy head and shortly after that I knew I needed to slowly breathe him out. Nick and my girls were there with me, they were just watching and waiting quietly and patiently. When baby’s head came out I heard my older daughter say “I see the baby’s head!” I had my hand on baby’s head as it crowned and in the same contraction as the head was born the shoulders turned and baby’s body slid gently out into my hands onto the bed. He cried right away and was immediately pink. He looked around and then gave another good cry. I was so busy looking at him that I didn’t even think to look and see if he was a boy or a girl. We didn’t find out because we opted not to have an ultrasound. Nick asked and when I looked I half expected him to be a girl. I said “it’s a boy!!”

Within 15 minutes of his birth he was breastfeeding and the placenta came out. He ate for a half hour nearly every hour for the first 12 hours of his life, my milk came in the 2nd day, and has been a great eater! He weighed in at 9lb 2oz on the fish scale Nick bought for his birth…our “catch of the day” as he called him :)

Isaiah Gideon was born exactly how I hoped he would be. He had a peaceful entrance into this world. I was able to listen to my body and my instincts and do everything I needed to so he could have a safe and peaceful birth. I knew myself enough to know exactly what I needed for his birth and I know birth enough to know exactly what I needed to bring him safely into this world. I had hoped I would “know” I was “in labor” sooner this time (last time I didn’t know until an hour before she was born!) and I did. Even though my labors aren’t ’traditional’, instinctually I *just knew*. I had hoped I would enjoy it and soak it all up and I did. I had hoped my husband and my girls would be able to witness it and they did. I had hoped for the birth that was perfect for me and our baby and it was. I am so thrilled that my girls were able to see a baby, their brother, brought into this world in such a way, that they too may someday birth without pain or fear and it might ! be a joyous and beautiful event for them too. I feel so incredibly blessed!

{If you’d like to share your own home birth story, please use the form at right to submit it.}

LIKE ANY 8-DAY-OLD BABY, Jimmy Gaffney spends most of his time either nursing or sleeping. Peacefully alternating between the two while cradled in his mother’s arms in the family’s sun-dappled Hamilton backyard, the robust newborn looks like a promotional photograph for parenthood. And yet, so far as the state and city of his birth are concerned, this baby does not officially exist.

He was born at home, in May, with only his mother and father, Alana and Matt Gaffney, in attendance (his two excited siblings, who had slept through most of the five-hour labor that culminated in his 4 a.m. birth, came in just as their father was placing the freshly born baby on his mother’s chest). The family is in no rush to notify the authorities about Jimmy’s birth; they have been taking it easy for the past week, sticking close to home and bonding with the new addition while Alana recovers. A call to register his birth with the Baltimore City Health Department will summon a visit from a home nurse, and the Gaffneys are not quite ready for outsiders, particularly bureaucrats asking a lot of questions about a process they regard as utterly natural—and completely private.

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This Pregnancy: The First Twenty Weeks 
Between Maddie’s birth and this pregnancy, I learned a lot. I’m a childbirth teacher and have worked as a doula. I’ve read piles on childbirth and have gone through three different professional training workshops. I attended 2 homebirths as a doula, and 4 hospital births. By the time I got pregnant with this baby, there was no doubt I was having a homebirth. The idea of going back to the hospital to have a baby seemed too risky to me. 

I hired the midwife who was present at the two homebirths I attended. She was very hands-off at those births and I was extremely impressed by her. I knew there was no other attendant I could feel at ease with. I told her that I’d be calling her late in labor, and that I’d rather her not make it on time than get there too early and risk “performance anxiety” slowing my labor. As the pregnancy went on, I realized that deep down, I didn’t expect to call her at all.

In my first 20 weeks, I had two prenatal visits. I had no blood work, no gestational diabetes test, no genetic screening, no ultrasounds, not even listening to the baby with a Doppler (which exposes the baby to ultrasound). After 20 weeks I was able to find the heartbeat myself with a fetoscope. I would not be having a group B strep test, checking my fluid levels with ultrasound, fretting about the baby’s size. I was just enjoying my pregnancy and it was truly wonderful.

Unassisted Birth: My Psychological & Emotional Journey
When I was late in my pregnancy with Maddie, around 37 weeks I believe, the midwife said that they liked to induce at 41 weeks. This was totally unacceptable to me. I don’t believe in evicting babies before they’re ready based on a date that should really be +/- at least 2 weeks. The risks associated with induction were beyond what I was willing to accept without a true medical reason. Needless to say, I started to feel a lot of stress over this impending fight, were I to go past 41 weeks (I actually went to 41 weeks, 4 days). My precious husband said, “Don’t worry about it-if they try to force an induction we’ll just stay home and do it ourselves.

And there, the idea of unassisted homebirth was born. It’s interesting to me that so many women who want homebirths-assisted or unassisted-are thwarted by scared spouses, and the whole idea of unassisted birth came through my husband. Staying home without a midwife had never even occurred to me. But suddenly it became our back up plan, and I started to think about how great an experience it would be.

In the end, the midwives didn’t pressure me into an induction and I stuck with my hospital plan. When Maddie was just a baby, I got a copy of Unassisted Childbirth by Laura Shanley from the library. It was so fascinating. Her way of giving birth felt very right (I later read The Power of Pleasurable Childbirth by Laurie Morgan, which really appealed to my practical nature).

Around 18 weeks I realized I wasn’t going to call the midwife, and knew I needed to talk to her. I gave myself a couple of weeks to think it over, then called her around 20 weeks. She was very supportive of my decision, willing to be there for me if I needed her. 

I continued my pregnancy with no problems, and no stress. Once I decided officially on an unassisted birth, it’s like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. I knew it was right for me. I told very few people in my real life, because I didn’t want to deal with negativity, and I also didn’t want to cause unnecessary stress for my family. Most people in our culture don’t really believe birth is safe, and I didn’t want people worrying about the baby and me. I wasn’t worried-why should they be?

The Birth of Grace Alexandra
I’d been having contractions for weeks, real ones as well as Braxton-Hicks. On the night of September 9, I tried to go to bed around 9. Contractions were 15-20 minutes apart, and I wanted to sleep between them. They were really strong, and I’d wake up right at the peak and unable to stay on top of them. Around 10:30 I tried propping myself up in bed because lying down was making them worse, but even with that the waking up at the peak was too much. Around 11:15 I went out in the living room with Chad. We put in a Friends DVD and hung out for about 45 minutes. As soon as I was in the living room, contractions jumped to 5-7 minutes apart.

Around midnight I really wanted to get in the birth pool, but was thinking it was really too early. I decided I didn’t care-the water was calling me. Chad tried to convince me just to take a bath in the tub first, to see if it really was labor this time. I said no. I knew this was it. He filled the tub and I got in. It was heavenly!

We put Friends on the computer and we actually watched it right up until transition. The water got my contractions closer together, not further apart. They were 3-4 minutes apart almost as soon as I got in, then 2-3 minutes. The DVD player shut down and I told Chad to leave it off. I remember sitting in the warm water, with the windows open. It felt so good, and I could hear the crickets chirping outside, and thinking, “This is the way to do this. I don’t want to be anywhere else.” 

Transition was intense and painful but less confusing and scary than it was with Maddie, by far. I never felt out of it or confused like I did with her birth. Soon it felt better to bear down than to relax, and Chad thought I still hadn’t gone through transition but I was already pushing! He was blown away to realize how quickly things were going-he’d hardly had to do any work yet.

My water hadn’t broken yet, after quite a few pushing contractions, but I could feel her head right there. I allowed the overwhelming urge to take over at first, then forced myself to breathe through and slow down, with Chad’s help. I felt her head trying to come out but the bag of waters was still there. I thought, I wonder if my short, bitten nail could break the thing. I touched it, barely, and it popped. Then I could feel hair and that was all the encouragement I needed. I wish I could describe what the rest of the birth was like but I don’t really have the words. To know that we were doing this, totally our way and that it was going so quickly and smoothly, was just really amazing. Chad and I just looked at each other in awe of what was happening. We felt completely connected to each other, to the baby, and to the entire process as it unfolded exactly the way it was meant to.

Chad couldn’t believe how far along I was already. He thought we’d have hours left. I pushed, gently, through crowning, which took several contractions. I did my own perineal support and could tell exactly where I needed to put pressure to keep from tearing. Crowning was intense but so cool! I could feel the baby trying to help me, pushing with her feet and trying to get out too. Her head and body came out in one contraction, and Chad said “Reach down!” I caught her myself, and pulled her up to me. The cord was around her neck but she was already crying and breathing just fine. I unwound it, and she nursed within about 3 minutes. It was so incredible! 

I thought the whole pregnancy that I was having a boy, so it was a little surprising to find out she was a girl! But I knew before she was even out-I changed from “he” to “she” unconsciously-I remember saying to Chad, “The cord is around her neck.” 

The water was a little cool so we got out pretty soon. I sat down on some towels on the floor, and plop! Out came the placenta. That was easy! I bled less than I did with Maddie and was much less sore. I didn’t tear, except for a little skidmark I couldn’t even see (but could feel when I used the bathroom for about the first day). She was born around 3:23 am, after just about 4 hours of active labor. We didn’t check the time right away but that’s pretty close. We called all the people who wanted late-night calls, and Chad’s mom came over for a little while to meet her. She went home and we went to bed for a couple of hours. It was so nice to be finished with birthing, take a shower in my own shower, then cuddle up in our own bed. Maddie slept through the whole thing, and in the morning she was SO excited to meet her little sister!

We had lots of visitors our first day with her, and that was nice too-no cooking and everybody brought me stuff! We weighed her Sunday afternoon, and she was 8 pounds, 1 ounce. We also finally came up with her name, Grace Alexandra. My recovery with Maddie amazed everyone I knew, but this recovery was insanely easy. I was out shopping with Chad and my 2 girls on Tuesday (she was born Sunday morning). I wasn’t sore after the first day postpartum, and my milk came in in under two days. That took 5-6 days with Maddie, and I’m 100% convinced it was the interruption in our home life that caused the delay.


Having just Chad and me present for the birth is the best thing we’ve ever done. I wasn’t at all afraid-I just knew everything was fine. We were the only people there when she was conceived, and it felt absolutely 100% right that we were the only people there when she was born. I was able to listen to my body completely, without anyone to depend on but myself and Chad. Chad was wonderful-he helped me remember not to push too hard, and he was my anchor during transition and pushing both physically and emotionally. Her birth was intense, sometimes painful, very hard work…but definitely one of the most incredible things I’ve ever experienced.

{If you’d like to share your own home birth story, please use the form at right to submit it.}