The Cracking Open to Experience The Greatest Joy
I had now officially reached the 24-hour mark in labor. I got on the toilet and then, at last, I was ready to get in the birth pool. This is where time becomes a complete blur and everything melds together. For the first time, I get in my head and start to get nervous. “I didn’t get the rest I so desperately needed; how am I going to do this? I’m exhausted, I’m nauseous, I’m hot, I’m puking and I’m no longer able to relax as easily after each surge.”
The tub I thought would be my sanctuary, but I was just so hot and it made my nausea ten times worse. I knew heartburn and indigestion would most likely be a challenge for me in labor, but I didn’t expect to be so hot and nauseous constantly. I kept fighting the urge to spit and puke while in the tub. “Time is passing, and it feels to me like I’m not progressing. How am I going to push this baby out?” I began to think continuously.
It’s now 10:45 pm, and while my self-confidence to be able to get to the finish line at home is wavering, my birth team still believes in me. Jenny’s birth assistants, Ashley and Katy, arrive along with Arianna, a doula on our team who joined as our photographer. My first internal reaction is, “They don’t need to be here…I’m going to transfer”. This is when I really started to doubt myself. I wasn’t able to take the meds for sleep, and now I wasn’t able to relax in the tub as I’d like to, so I thought, where do I go next from here?

I began to outwardly express my concerns “I want to transfer” I sighed to Ryan. He acknowledged my words, but he felt as if this was just me expressing the intensity of the pain and exhaustion. I replied, “I know you think I’m just saying this, but I’m serious; I can’t do this anymore…I want to do this, but I just can’t. I’m just so tired.” I was so sad. My heart was in it completely still, but my body felt like it was giving out on me. I kept thinking that if only labor would’ve started a bit later and I would’ve gotten rest the first night then I would have been able to do this. It wasn’t a matter of me doubting my body. It was purely exhaustion. I was now in my second night of labor with no rest.
I was only communicating in breathless words at this point. I started to feel delusional. I was sweating. It was all so intense. After I expressed my desire to transfer, Rori asked if I wanted her to get Jenny, and I said yes (Rori later shared with us that when she went to tell Jenny, Jenny was so shocked because she thought I was doing beautifully, but she would hold space for me in ways that I’d need). I wanted there to be a solution; a way to get through this. I knew it was only me who could travel these treacherous waters, but I was grasping for tools…just like the journey of the labyrinth that I read about in my favorite birth book "Transformed by Birth" and mentally had prepared for. It was unfolding just like the author Britta Bushnell said it would; my tools were being pulled from me and still, I must go on. I got out of the tub to cool down, but Jenny also asked if she checked me, “would that change anything for you?”. I said maybe and thought to myself, “only if I’m complete, I’ll consider staying and try to muster through the final stage of labor”. I didn’t want to be here in this place of exhaustion and wanting to give up my home birth vision and plan, but I was mentally and emotionally preparing to come to acceptance.
As soon as Jenny checked me at 11 pm, she was so happy to share with me that I was at nine and a half centimeters and able to push past the remaining cervix. My body felt broken; it felt so hard to give that pushing effort Jenny was asking for. I so badly wanted to fight it. I was desperate for rest. Sleep was all I could think about and felt like the only thing that would get me through pushing my baby out. I kept thinking about how glorious sleep felt in the last weeks of pregnancy and how I would do anything to be in that moment right now.

Jenny was so excited with where I was at and was so encouraging, but I told her I still wanted to transfer not out of want but out of need. I didn’t know how I could go on. She reasoned with me and told me if I just was able to rest, I could do it. She believed in me, I knew, and she offered to help me get this rest I desperately was seeking. I still felt the doubt within me, but she convinced me to lie down in bed. Laying on my left side, one by one, she helped me through each surge. They were three to four minutes apart at this point and the intensity felt so strong that even when the surge ended, I still felt the residual effects in my body. I felt tense and rest felt impossible, but she coached me through each break between the surges. “Melt…your whole body is soft…” she said. I felt my body gripping, but I tried so hard to listen to her and let my body melt as she said. Sometimes it felt impossible and sometimes it would work. She told me there were a couple of times I dropped into REM, even just for a few minutes, and I could continue to do it. I had the weirdest dreams during these moments of REM that made my mind feel so strange. It gave me even more of a delusional feeling. I was no longer talking aside from some delusional words and short requests. During this time, Rori and Ryan rested, too. I was happy about this; we were all desperate for sleep.
After an hour like this, I felt like my body was trying to push, but I wanted to resist it. I felt weak and oh so tired. I no longer could convince myself to lie like this. I told myself and the team I’d try the tub one more time. I thought to myself that I didn’t think I could ever possibly get through pushing at this point, but I wanted to know that I gave my best effort for myself, for my baby and also for my birth team. It was now 3 am, and Arianna came in to start taking photos. I thought, “I don’t know why you're here because I’m about to transfer and I won’t want these photos”. Words were nearly impossible at this point. I was so hot. I felt irritable. I was constantly asking for my ice towels. I used the comb. I tried to tune into Hypno tracks. I stared at my birth altar. I was trying everything to just get me through one more surge.

I continued to ask to keep the tub cooler than usual because it made my nausea so much worse. I couldn’t get comfortable even in this place that was supposed to make labor easier. Even if I didn’t know it then, my body was laboring down during this time. I again told Ryan it was time to transfer. I said I tried everything, and it was now time. I asked him to map the distance to the hospital. 26 minutes. This felt like an impossible time to wait for relief of the epidural. I was outwardly so out of it, but my logical mind thought “26 minutes to the hospital, then who knows how long for intake and then still waiting for the anesthesiologist. How am I going to do this?” I also thought about how my whole birth and postpartum experience would be completely altered in the hospital, and I so badly didn’t want this for me, for our baby or our family. I mentally weighed my options, and I knew that the hospital was the last place I wanted to be. After again saying it was time to transfer, Rori asked if I wanted to talk to Jenny. I did, and she came in (the birth team respectfully stayed in the upstairs hallway and nursery while I labored, and Jenny came in only as I needed her, which was often at times). She told me how close I was and asked what was my plan if I transferred and what would she tell the hospital. “You’re still going to have to push this baby out…there’s nothing wrong, and you can do this”, she said. It all felt so overwhelming. She checked me again while in the tub, and she felt the baby right there, she said! She encouraged me to reach my fingers inside and feel for myself. I did as she requested and tried, but I felt weak and couldn’t actually feel his head for myself. Still surge by surge I let myself stay in the tub. I consciously chose not to ask Rori to get my birth bag or to tell Arianna to leave. Even though that’s what I was thinking of as the next step, I knew I could keep trying surge by surge.
It was now 4 am; hour 32 of labor. I somehow managed to get through another hour. My body started to bear down on its own. I started to feel like okay, maybe there’s a possibility I can do this and I will do this. Fifteen minutes later, I began to actively push with my body. Pushing would stretch me to my greatest limits physically, mentally and emotionally. With the exhaustion I was facing, I was deeply doubting my physical capacity to take on this final stage of labor. I was also forced to confront some sticky emotional blocks. I’d been waiting so long for this, and then at this moment, I wasn’t sure I was ready to be a mother. I think this is a primal reaction as one shifts into motherhood; it’s the ultimate surrender and acceptance. It forced me to take the leap of faith into the unknown and trust that this rite of passage was meant for me. More emotional gunk emerged. Even after all the births I’ve had the honor of witnessing and supporting, I couldn’t for some reason conceptualize that a baby, our baby, was soon going to be emerging from me. I didn’t think my body could handle this, even though in the depths of my heart I knew this is what women are built for. Jenny even reminded me of this exact thing when I needed vocal reassurance, which was often in those hours leading up to my pushing. I would be taken to my greatest limits because ultimately this would be the space where I would grow and come out stronger and more resilient as the mother (and doula) I’m meant to be.

As I pushed, I went from tug of war with Rori, to all fours, to tug of war again and then finding the greatest power with my hands behind my legs. I leaned all my weight into Ryan as I fixated my focus on my beautiful birth altar for hours it seemed; I did everything in my power to connect with my body to find my deep-rooted strength. I got out of my own way by shifting from being in my head to getting into my heart space. Ryan said all the right things reminding me of my strength. I was finally doing it, and I was so relieved to know okay, yes, I can have my baby here safely and peacefully in our home surrounded by so much love just as I envisioned. Rori, Arianna and Jenny all chimed in their soft words of encouragement, too. I then saw the rainbow on my belly from Jenny’s flashlight, and it felt like the most beautiful sign that our rainbow baby was coming. I was ready. I was so present during my labor; tuning into my body and acknowledging the world around me while safely going inward to connect with my mind, body and soul.
I actively pushed for two and a half hours. I was constantly asking for cool rags, hydration and the comb at this point. With each surge, I progressed. I found my focus and I regained my confidence. I was in complete control with total body connection. I breathed and pushed peacefully. My mind felt busy at times, but I felt in control. It was the same focus that I’d use while running marathons. I’d find my innermost strength to push past the limits of my mind. For probably the first two hours of pushing, it felt like such slow progress and I mentally was accepting that this last leg of the journey would be long, but this was it. I asked what time it was; I peeked outside to see the sky slowly lighting up with morning light. The finish line was in plain sight for me to see; pure joy and reprieve were ahead. It was painful, but it was progress. When I neared the end, I said aloud to Jenny who was peacefully and presently holding space for me right in front of me, “Wow, they aren’t kidding when they say the baby feels like it’s coming out of your butt; it’s so wild!”. I knew I could do this, and I knew our baby was about to be born at home!
When it was time for our baby to emerge at last, it was one of the neatest bodily experiences I’ve ever felt. It was a fullness in my vagina and tissues. It was a pressure and so much stretching all at once. There was a bulge, but also so much more behind that bulge - a feeling of the unknown of how much more stretch and pressure my body could take. With each push, my body expanded and accommodated room for more of the baby by making more available space. His head began to emerge. The team asked me if I wanted to look in the mirror and feel the baby’s head. I said no repeatedly; I knew exactly what I needed. I made my requests clear (even if I felt blunt and rude at times, I knew I was using my only available words to communicate). “Water…coconut water…comb…cool rag…no yawning in my face (which I said to Ry in the early morning when he, too, felt exhaustion creeping in)” were my muttered requests in the hours leading up to now.
I felt the constant ring of fire, but I didn’t care. I was here at the finish line, and I could take any final pain. His head was finally out! My gosh, I did it. This is when pure joy began to flood my body. It felt amazing. I did it; I made it here and our baby was about to be on our chests! Once his head emerged, I gathered my final strength from within. My body naturally paused for close to three minutes as it stretched and made space for the shoulders. Jenny told me this last push would require a lot of strength. I wasn’t afraid; I had what it took within me. It was wild, it was primal, but I was in control. I bore down with all my might and out emerged his shoulders and then body. Jenny encouraged me to reach down and pull out my baby. My gosh, are those the best words one could ever hear in their life?
It may be a cliche (is there such a thing when we’re talking about the miracle of birth?), but this in that very moment became the best day of our lives. Pure joy, limitless bliss, surging adrenaline, boundless gratitude, all-encompassing love all wrapped into one. It was euphoric! Gosh, being held by Ry as I held our baby in my arms for the very first time…this is the special place I want to cherish and relish forever. My heart exploded with so much love at that moment, and then when I didn’t think I could melt anymore…Ry sobbing tears of joy, love and gratitude in my ear was the cherry on top. We made it…together. We found our home together at this moment; our rainbow boy chose us and it felt like true destiny. Ry announced “it’s a baby boy”, and my heart burst with so much love. Our boy was here just in time for sunrise, just as I had always envisioned. 35 incredible hours of labor, and here we were with our precious, perfect baby in our arms.
When we were safely and peacefully back to the bed with our precious boy in our arms, the placenta had been birthed, the cord had been burned (with our angel baby, Cora’s special candles, which was a beautiful way to honor this incredible full-circle moment), our boy had been weighed, our house had been cleaned, the birth team had departed and we were together here as a family, Ry and I looked at each other with so much love and awe. I asked him, “So what's his name”...we stared at our bundle of love and we both quickly agreed that he’s our Hensley. He so looked like a Hens. We couldn’t stop smiling. And then as Rori did the final preparations for my postpartum care, we said it was time for Hens to meet his big brother. Just when we thought our hearts felt the most love they could feel, our hearts grew even more seeing Kona and Hensley together. Our family was so precious and perfect at this moment.

Labor was so much longer than I had anticipated, especially with it coming at the end of an already long day, but expectations can’t be had when it comes to birth. I entered this journey with an open mind and an open heart, and I welcomed anything that would come. I, of course, prayed for ease and for things to flow in a way that would allow me to birth at home, but I trusted that whatever was meant for me would come. This was my rite of passage into motherhood. The lessons I was meant to experience would be had just as our rainbow baby journey here had shown me. I’m so grateful for all that came up for me during this remarkable, transformative passage. This is the story that I’ll forever hold in my heart. It is the best story I’ve ever gotten the opportunity to write.
If you're looking for a birth experience filled with peace, love and supportive encouragement, we invite you to explore our team of dedicated doulas who would be honored to accompany you on this transformational journey. We firmly believe that positive births require a trifecta: a provider you align with and trust, an advocate in the room (your doula) and out-of-hospital childbirth education like our course, Your Empowered Birth. By sharing this birth story, we aim to help you acknowledge the innate wisdom and primal power you already possess, allowing you to have the birth of your dreams!
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