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.}

Our life’s journey begins in the womb. It is a time that should be respected and honored for its life impact. We each undergo this at least once, more if we’re parents through our children. We honor our children by accepting their journey through all its joys and challenges. By honoring their journey we honor ours.

My husband Jon is a chiropractor. I teach Bradley® childbirth classes and study midwifery. Together we have three wonderful sons! With all we know of the body and birth, we are humbled with each of our sons’ birth journeys. We recognize that there is something greater than ourselves and we lean on God as He asked in Proverbs 3:5.

This was my great lesson with our second child. When our first was only ten months old I found myself pregnant with child number two. We were so excited! I was actually eager to experience labor and apply my instructor training. We were also excited to experience our first homebirth.

Soon we were sharing our news with all we encountered! We found the midwife in our area and visited with her about homebirth and her role with us. As I taught weekly Bradley® classes, the words I shared with my students took on a stronger meaning. Our journey with Simon had begun!

The pregnancy progressed like all pregnancies do. Nap time was my favorite; our oldest and I took lazy naps and cuddled, savoring our last months of just being two. I think Stephen, though very young, had a sense of change. He may not have been able to tell me what was happening but I think a part of him knew it was something big.

After 40 weeks, my due date finally arrived…and then it passed, as due dates often do. Knowing that a due date is only an estimate and that only five percent of women actually birth then meant nothing to me. I was like all pregnant moms, uncomfortable and ready for labor. Little did I know I had three more weeks to go.

I cannot express the wait of the following weeks. Moms who have waited for labor to naturally begin may understand, yet few moms are allowed to wait as long as I was blessed to. Yes, I do mean blessed, though I didn’t realize it at the time. Wisdom often comes after the fact! Jon, Simon and I were to wait until hours shy of 43 weeks. Gasp! There are so many fears and misunderstandings about waiting this long, but it wasn’t my journey, it was Simon’s and I wasn’t the one in charge, God was. So we waited.

It wasn’t an easy wait. I was a lot more uncomfortable this time. I was tired. I thought I would never get to meet our child. The birthing pool was inflated then deflated several times as we waited. And my husband was bombarded with, “you have the baby yet?” literally every five minutes! We were ready…Simon was not.

Only about three percent of babies go past 42 weeks. Few are allowed to wait 42 weeks before either the attending or the mom demands an induction. Studies done in 1982, 1989 and 1996 have shown “no significant increase in neonatal mortality rates after 42 weeks and only a slight increase after 43 weeks.” The 1996 study even showed “no increase in complications compared to the births of babies born on-time, between 38 and 42 weeks.” (Wagner, 94-95)

So we waited. We had many prenatal visits and found the baby and fluid fine. I will admit that I tried nearly every “natural” way to induce labor, but Simon said, “Not yet.” Even the castor oil at the very end of 42 weeks had no effect. It was simply not time, though my cervix was dilated four centimeters and effacing rapidly. When things started it would be fast!

The day before 43 weeks, things finally began. I was in denial; I wasn’t capable of going into labor, this must be something else! After four hours of contractions increasing in intensity and duration, I was forced to conclude that it was time! By five o’clock everyone we needed had arrived.

The labor itself was really simple. I spent some time laboring on our sofa watching a movie and playing computer games, stopping only for contractions. When that got to be too much, I moved to bed and laid there, eyes closed during contractions and visiting quietly between. Finally I was ready for the pool. Ah, sweet relief. Once in the pool I found a new sense of comfort. My energy was renewed. It’s like getting an extra life in a video game!

We labored in the pool, joking and having “fun.” Transition hit about 30-45 minutes before Simon was born. I remember thinking “this is so intense!” Naturally I didn’t recognize transition at the time! Jon was sitting in front of me ready to catch, midwife over his shoulder to guide and keep an eye on things. At 8:04pm Simon reached a full crown. The midwife told me to feel his head but I couldn’t, I felt unable to let go of Jon’s hands. Mind you, his hands were ready to “catch,” mine were behind me, supporting myself. Wow, amazing how much support my husband offered me simply through his presence!

Almost three minutes after crowning, Simon’s head came out, with only a moment’s pause when the rest of him shot out into daddy’s hands. Almost immediately he was in my stunned arms. Here was the child I was convinced I would never meet. His birth journey wasted no time. He lives his life the way he approached his birth; difficult to start, but when he does, get out of his way, he acts fast!

He was born covered in meconium; though it wasn’t fresh, as if he passed it many days earlier. I often wonder about the castor oil I took a week prior. Experts say it doesn’t affect the baby, yet I wonder. And in spite of the meconium, he was alert and vigorous. At an even 9 pounds 21 inches, he was perfect! The due date was concluded as accurate.

What an amazing journey that I am pleased we honored and traveled together. I look forward to the days ahead when I will be witness to the journey of other babies and their families.

*Wagner, Marsden. Born in the USA. University of California, 2006.

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

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.}