The Birth of Addison:Breathing Life into our Child of God.A Story of Answered Prayers.

This first-time mama excitedly transitioned her care halfway through pregnancy to homebirth midwifery. Though her daughter required emergent resuscitation at birth, this mama expresses her gratitude for the intimacy, peace, and safety of birthing at home.

Homebirth was never an option on our radar. We were going to have a normal hospital birth. It’s what seemed safest–my husband and I both work as police officers afterall, and we function as first responders. We operated in that scene well. However, my only close associations of birth gathered to be a giant globule of negativity. As I sought to hear some positive birth stories, I couldn’t help but keep coming back to a couple of friends whom I knew had homebirths. Their faces lit up when they shared their stories with me– reflecting on the intimate, joyful experiences of birth at home. But again, I thought “good for you, but that’s not for me.” I wasn’t about to be labeled as a “crunchy” mom. Plus, the thought of no pharmaceutical pain relief available was far above me. Not to mention, my husband was quite skeptical about birthing at home. I pursued the routine route of prenatal care for a hospital birth until red flags began to alarm me. When I learned that the provider I had seen in clinic would not be present at my birth and that I would not be able to birth in the position of my choosing, I started to question if the hospital was the right choice for us.

It was time for us to research. We listened to piles of positive birth podcasts, learned from Dr. Stu (OBGYN turned midwife), watched the documentary “The Business of Being Born,” and conversed with multiple midwives. These insightful encounters quite literally pulled the wool away from our eyes to see the wonder of birth in its own habitat freed from the hospital’s stipulations. After weighing the choice of a birth center versus a birth at home, we determined that the familiarity and freedom of home held the trump card. So that was it. At 22 weeks pregnant, I met with a homebirth midwife who made me feel comfortable and confident about birthing at home. I was ecstatic to be cared for by someone who truly valued my health as a whole (mind, body, and spirit), and I was ready to run this race. I delved into daily birth affirmations, meditated breathing techniques, and prenatal yoga. I devoted myself to intentional preparation of my mind by listening to Christian Hypnobirthing, reading scripture, and praying. This journey I was on throughout pregnancy led me to be motivated, confident, and ready for homebirth. I was actually excited for labor. I declared, “I can do this.” It was time for fear to flee. I took on the identity of a “spiritual warrior” ready to go to battle at the time of birth, while simultaneously surrendering my control and trusting God to fight alongside me. 

On March 2nd, at 39 weeks 6 days pregnant, I attended church in the morning feeling “off.” I felt slightly uncomfortable with some pelvic floor pressure and what I thought to be Braxton Hicks contractions. Around 1:00 pm, the sensations I was experiencing commenced to a rhythm of about 8-12 minutes apart, each lasting about 30 seconds. Could I really be in early labor? I was a little in denial about my body jumping into action so effortlessly. I decided to walk the neighborhood alongside my husband while he went for a run. It was such a delight and answered prayer to be outdoors with the sun shining so eloquently on that 38 degree Minnesotan day. God was so gracious to give me the detailed desires of my heart. I had a list of dreams for my birth, and an opportunity to be outside with beautiful weather while in labor was near the top.

My husband then left for work at 4:00 pm for his evening shift, as I was managing early labor well on my own. Meanwhile, I headed to my favorite nearby hiking spot, Kaplan's woods. Being solo on the trail surrounded by the tall trees, smelling the fresh air, and hearing the crunch of wood chips under my footsteps was all so serene and rewarding. I perched myself along a log with a perfect view of the golden sky as the sun slowly set in the distance. I reminisced on all the moments I had lifted up prayers about my future family at this very same spot years and months before. And now it was actually happening. It was all so surreal.

I later met my husband over his dinner break at a Mexican restaurant in town thinking this would be our last meal as just the two of us. We agreed he was going to come home at 9:00 pm, as I didn’t want to labor alone anymore. Before I reached home, I couldn’t help but stop for the taste of a shamrock shake, the first and likely last emerald treat I’d enjoy this month with postpartum on the horizon. My husband joined me in bed as we got cozy together watching one of our favorite comedy movies, “What About Bob?” Soon, my husband fell asleep, but I was far too uncomfortable to remain in bed. I went downstairs to our lower level when one specific labor surge brought me to the front line of fear. I was alarmed at the pain and saw it as a warning sign that I needed to reground myself. I recited Isaiah 41:10, “Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” It was 3:00 am, and in the dead of night, I was recollected and centered, knowing this labor was held in my Father’s hands. I was ready to welcome the waves of labor and ready to wake my husband for support. We called our midwife and asked her to accompany us for active labor. 

I leaned against my birth ball in our dimly lit family room that I had prepared for this time. I was in a land of peace under the floating twinkle lights above me while wrapped in the soft melodies of worship. I didn’t even notice our midwife and birth assistant arrive in the room– that is until they enrolled me in what I call birth “bootcamp” to keep active labor progressing. Between the bleak hours of 5:00 and 7:00 am, I was guided through a series of exercises to strengthen my labor sensations. Between many extreme reps of body balancing activities, staircase lunges, and the dilation station (aka toilet), my body was surely progressing with each wave of intensity rolling through. After such an impressive workout, I blew the whistle for rest. I needed alone time with just me and my husband. And sure enough, the strong waves of labor led my body to begin bearing down as we enjoyed an intimate time of connection together. I felt spiritually united with my husband most in this moment alone with him, and it provided me more strength to be able to carry on. I was roaring through these labor sensations and felt incredibly empowered in the process. I was so grateful to be able to experience each one in its entirety without the meddling of medications to numb me.  

I was re-energized now to return to birth bootcamp. With my husband’s encouraging words and gentle reminders to stay connected with my breath, I again climbed the staircase with lunges and then retreated to “labor land” on the dilation station. Each wave swept me deeper into surrender. “Trust. Open. Relax.” Shortly before 10:00 am, I felt my bag of waters with my hand and really desired to get into the birth tub. I pushed for about an hour with no avail. The water felt soothing, but I didn’t feel grounded and couldn’t get into an effective rhythm. So back to the dilation station it was– then my waters truly did break. As my body began involuntarily pushing again, I found myself returning to the birth tub. I was offered a couple tablespoons of honey. I was becoming extremely exhausted. I had hoped pushing would have proceeded with much quicker progress. Discouraged, I was totally over being in the tub. I wanted to be done. When a cervical check was suggested to see where my baby was positioned, I agreed, as I desperately wanted to meet my daughter. It was concluded that our baby’s head still needed to rotate before she could be born. I followed the instruction of lying over the side of the tub with one leg in, one leg out. And it worked.  

However, I still didn’t feel as if my daughter was coming soon, and I wanted out of this water to be on land. I crawled out of the tub onto my hands and knees. It felt so good to finally push with effectiveness. Though I didn’t think I could do it any longer, my body kept doing it for me. Cold washcloth on my forehead, sweat dripping off of me, I victoriously pushed her head out at 12:59 pm. After unwrapping the umbilical cord from her neck and a little assistance with her shoulders, Addison was born. The lyrics “I am a child of God” sounded through the speaker as she triumphantly made her arrival. She was a child of God indeed. And I did it! I conquered homebirth. My mind and my body proved it to be more than manageable up against my previous fears. 

My husband had planned on catching her, but as soon as she was born, he knew something was wrong. Our baby wasn’t breathing. Within seconds, our midwife swooped her back between my legs, confirmed that she had a pulse, and began stimulating her to breathe before beginning resuscitation measures with suction, breaths, and supplemental oxygen. “Talk to your daughter, tell her it’s time to breathe,” our midwife encouraged us. I wasn’t in a state of panic but intense shock at what was happening. Somewhere deep within me, I knew Addy would be okay. I trusted the wisdom of our midwife, and I trusted that Addy was safe in God’s hands. By 1:03 pm, we had called 911, which did alarm me more at that point. As the first responders were in route, Addy finally took her first breath at 1:05 pm. She was brought to my chest and was crying strongly. It was hard for me to process what had just happened, but I was so glad to have my daughter safe and sound, heartbeat to heartbeat with mine. 

Once the first responders had checked in on us, and everyone assured that Addy was breathing well on her own, we snuggled into bed. Our midwife and birth assistant did not leave our home until around 7:00 pm that night. We were so comforted and so well cared for by our birth team. We experienced something that could have been extremely traumatic in the hospital, but the way our birth team carried themselves in the event of our daughter’s emergency, brought us nothing but peace. My husband and I are very grateful we chose to address our fears surrounding birth at home. The unique intimacy that homebirth gifted to us and the expert care our daughter received during her first minutes of life will be meaningful moments we remember forever.