Birth Story of Lilee

I was 41 weeks and 3 days pregnant, and I had tried just about everything to get her to come naturally. To stay busy, I made an entire Thanksgiving feast in October and baked around 12 dozen gingerbread men.

Then one stormy morning, my water broke and woke me up. I remember it just kept gushing while we both stood there staring at it, until I finally said, “Maaaaybe we should get a towel.” We laughed, realizing this journey was finally beginning, though, to be fair, we had taken castor oil the night before impatiently.

I called my mom and mother-in-law to come over, then got into the bath and called my midwife. She told me it would likely be 5–6 hours before things picked up. Two hours later, we called her back. Contractions were intense and five minutes apart. She arrived about an hour later, and within four hours of my water breaking, I was fully dilated with contractions two minutes apart.

I had severe back labor because my daughter was OP (facing up), and every contraction required strong counter-pressure. My husband and mother-in-law took turns pressing as hard as they could. My mom tried, but it took so much force that she physically couldn’t keep up.

Despite how quickly my body progressed, my daughter had other plans as she has had her entire life since. She was stuck on my hip and wouldn’t descend. The midwife had me try multiple positions through contractions that were especially difficult without counter-pressure. Eventually, she said, “This is the last one we can try, but it usually works.” Thankfully, it did. Ten hours after being fully dilated, I finally gave birth.

Well… sort of.

I had been pushing and got her low enough to feel the burning sensation and even let out a quick yip in surprise at the burn. Then, between contractions, she quite literally shot out of me all on her own, without a push, nearly hitting the side of the birth tub. Because of that, there was no time to stretch, and I ended up with second-degree tears in four places. 

I laugh about it now, especially when I tell clients who fear tearing. I remember confidently telling my midwife, “I don’t even think I tore.” I was very wrong.

Everything seemed fine at first, but my placenta didn’t deliver for over an hour. Eventually, I had to stand and push to deliver it. During that time, I had been bleeding quite a bit in the tub, which went largely unnoticed.

A few hours later, I was helped out of the tub by three people because I was so dizzy. I laid in bed, shaking under four blankets with a bucket nearby for nausea, while my husband spoon-fed me fried rice and black beans. This was the time that my body was in shock from blood loss. It also went largely unnoticed or unmanaged, but noticed, which may be worse. I then spent about an hour and a half getting stitched before everyone went home. 

In the weeks that followed, I remained extremely dizzy and drained. I later learned during my second pregnancy, when another midwife reviewed my chart, that I had experienced a significant hemorrhage. I had already been anemic (which was also missed), and the blood loss left me barely able to function. As my educational journey progressed, I learned even more ways this birth was very poorly managed. I am thankful my outcome wasn't worse. 

For nearly three weeks, I couldn’t bathe, dress myself, or care for my baby without help. The first time I got dressed postpartum, it took me 30 minutes. I had to put on one item at a time and rest in between.

I remember finally getting dressed by myself after two weeks, feeling like I had accomplished something huge. I went to change my daughter’s diaper, my very first one, and when she let out a little toot, I thought it was adorable. A second later, she explosively pooped all over my outfit. 

I can laugh about it now… but I definitely didn’t at the time.

Looking back, that experience shaped me in ways I didn’t fully understand at the time. It showed me just how strong the body can be, but also how easily important things can be missed. I experienced how a woman can go through something significant and not have the full picture of what happened to her.

It’s a big part of why I do this work today.

I know what it feels like to have questions that go unanswered, to feel unprepared for parts of the experience, and to navigate recovery without fully understanding what your body has been through. That experience gave me a deep appreciation for education, clear communication, and having someone present who is truly paying attention to you.

It’s also what drives my passion for supporting women not just in birth, but across all stages of life. Every woman deserves to understand her body, to feel informed in her decisions, and to have guidance she can trust.

That experience was the beginning of everything for me, and it continues to shape the way I care for the women and families I serve today.

Birth Story of Jerry IV

My son’s birth was a completely different experience.

He was born at 41 weeks and 1 day, and once again, I had tried everything to get labor started. One day, I walked four miles pushing my daughter in a stroller, along with just about every natural induction method I could think of. That evening, my back was aching, and I couldn’t sleep. I assumed I had simply overdone it. There were no contractions, just discomfort.

I called my midwife to let her know what was going on and told her I was going to take a bath. Afterward, I felt much better. I remember finally laying down, sighing in relief as I relaxed, when suddenly, I had a strong contraction. Then another. And another.

I started timing them. They were already three minutes apart and intense right from the beginning, so I called my midwife and told her to come.

By the fifth contraction, I was already on my hands and knees, working through a very intense labor. About 30 minutes later, my water broke, right as my husband started to panic that he might be catching a baby himself. The midwife stayed on the phone with me and suggested I lie on my side to try to slow things down.

She arrived about an hour and fifteen minutes after that first contraction. I immediately asked if I could get into the tub, jumped up faster than I ever had, and made my way across the room. After just two pushes, my son was born.

The entire experience was fast and intense, like being hit by a train for about an hour. But despite that, I preferred this birth by far. My bleeding was minimal, tearing was minimal, and within a few hours, I was up and walking on my own, able to enjoy those first postpartum moments with my son.

Looking back, I am grateful for the range of experiences I’ve had—my miscarriage, a long and difficult labor with a challenging recovery, and a fast, smooth “butter birth,” as we call them. I’ve also had my share of ups and downs with breastfeeding along the way.

Each of these moments has shaped my perspective. I’ve experienced care that felt lacking, and I’ve experienced care that made all the difference. Those contrasts gave me a deeper understanding of what women truly need and deserve.

All of it has played a role in shaping the way I show up today, with a broader perspective, greater empathy, and a strong commitment to providing thoughtful, well-rounded care.