The Redemptive Birth of Salem: Peace and Power IS my portion

A second-time mama’s transformative vaginal birth after cesarean (VBAC) at home. Her previous view of birth becomes rewritten with peace as she conquers fear and experiences freedom.

I believed birth to be a natural, holy happening, but all I knew surrounding birth was fear, pain, and trauma. My desired “natural” birth at the hospital led to my worst nightmare- a cascade of medical interventions that resulted in a cesarean section and a near- death experience of septic shock. I felt as though I had lost all autonomy I owned, like I had been stripped of my power through persistent pressure against my choices. When I became pregnant with my second child, I was elated! But I was simultaneously filled with anxiety about labor and birth. After my initial prenatal appointments presumptuously labeled me incapable of vaginal birth due to my previous cesarean, I was determined to find a better way. Following some research, I connected with a homebirth midwife who trusted the process of birth and expressed nothing but confidence in my body’s capability for vaginal birth. For the first time, I received hope that maybe redemption was possible and maybe birth could be sacred for me afterall. 

Throughout the months of my pregnancy, I was challenged to dramatically change my view of birth. I knew if I wanted a positive experience, my mind would need to practice positivity now and begin speaking life over my body. This was not an easy endeavor. Considering my cesarean section and my experience as an ICU nurse, I knew very well the risks of what could go wrong, but it was time to rewrite the beautiful expectation of what could and would go right with the proper preparation. With a haven of wisdom from my midwife and a mama’s heart devoted to prayer, the birth of my dreams became a reality.  

At 41 weeks and 4 days pregnant, I awoke before dawn several times as signs of labor slowly started to reveal themselves. When morning came, I alerted my midwife and decided to drink the “Midwife's Brew” to keep the momentum of labor moving. Around noon, very mild, but regular surges of energy began swifting through my body! The surges increased in strength throughout the remainder of the day, and I busied myself with the distraction of completing last minute chores. In-between tidying the house and attempting a multitude of naps, I was spoiled with hours of foot massages by my wonderful friend (and housemate) who was such enjoyable company while my husband was at work. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for her steadfast support all throughout pregnancy, for her warrior heart of prayer, for her words of encouraging wisdom when I needed them the most, and for her presence now during labor especially. 

As evening came around, my labor sensations were requiring more of my focus as they continued to increase in strength and longevity. I tucked my 3 year old son into bed with a tight hug and a kiss and went on to instruct my husband to sleep too. I invited my doula to start making her drive over, in preparation for needing some more support into the night.  

Once the house was quiet, I turned on my Hypnobirthing app to guide me through relaxing meditations while I continued to breathe through my contractions. I was grateful for each one because that meant progress was happening. With each breath I took, peace was permeating my mind and body. Oh how thankful I was to labor at home in my own cloud of tranquility. My doula entered my relaxing birth bubble around midnight–I was very glad to see her! We labored together for a short while before we both laid down to sleep, but I was awoken by every contraction that waved through my abdomen. The intensity of my labor sensations were surely increasing. I decided to take a hot shower, and what a relief that was! The warm water against my skin soothed the strong surges of energy I was experiencing. 

I stepped out of the shower with refreshed gratitude and tried to get comfortable laying on my left side while fully embracing each of the surges as they came, but it was getting tough. I repeatedly reminded myself, “This is normal. This is good.” I endured a couple more hours on my own before waking up my doula around 5:00 am. She called my midwife for me, who decided she would come by the house to initiate some movements of balance to encourage further labor progression, since I seemed to be in a drawn-out early stage of labor. 

My midwife along with her birth assistant arrived around 9:30 am. We headed downstairs to the serene space I had created for my birth with candles lighting the room and affirmations sounding through my speaker. The ladies helped me complete forward leaning inversions, side-lying releases, and rebozo sifting for about an hour. It wasn’t easy remaining in these positions while surges swept through my body, but I kept saying, “This is normal. This is good.” Being able to freely move throughout labor was wonderful.

Having been up for many hours, my midwife advocated for me to stay downstairs and get some sleep between contractions, and she would come back later in the day as labor progressed. I felt empowered and stress-free, knowing that my body could progress at its own pace without receiving pressure to rush. Around 12:00 pm, I reached for my doula’s hands, feeling as though my surges had doubled in intensity. She blessed me with a comforting foot massage, and I continued to try to rest between surges. I retreated from the world with worship music, reading scripture, and receiving prayer as my support ladies washed it over me. Each time a contraction began to rise, I would stand up, breathe deeply, and lift and tuck my belly as my birth team supported me.  

Around 3:00 pm, we talked with my midwife over the phone, and she encouraged me to settle into my little sanctuary downstairs with some movements of balance again. Sustaining these exercises sent my surges to a strength I had not yet experienced. The magnitude of the power rushing through my body over the next couple hours of intentional movement could only make itself known through deep, resounding moans escaping my mouth. I later learned that my sweet friend taking care of our 3-year old in the room next door had a loud “dance party” to muffle my big birth sounds to his little ears. She was so kind as to keep my son distracted and age-appropriately informed about what was happening with mom and his soon to be baby sister.  

By 9:00 pm, my doula got my midwife on the phone again to listen as my body began to involuntarily bear down during contractions. She now knew I was for sure in active labor, and she was on her way. My husband and doula filled the birth tub, and my midwife arrived just before 10:00 pm. I immersed myself into the warm water as soon as possible, feeling calm and confident to be at this stage. Sinking into the tub, the surges only strengthened. When my body wasn’t actively working through surges, my husband enriched the room with his nervous comedic relief. 

I found myself leaned over the side of the tub, embracing my husband with all my might. Fingers intertwined, we wondered if we were ever going to meet this baby. I had been laboring for over 24 hours, and I was hitting my wall. My birth team remained steadfast in rubbing my back, relaxing my shoulders, and whispering sweet nothings in my ear in-between contractions. And my husband’s hands were squeezed with the entirety of my soul. I pressed my forehead against his as he graciously made me giggle amidst the short seconds of rest. It was extraordinary how calm the environment was in the midst of such extreme physical exertion. Peace still saturated the room like a heavenly fog. God’s design for birth was illuminating itself. I reminded myself, “This is normal. This is good.”

Just when I felt like I couldn’t labor any longer, my daughter’s head began to crown. I experienced the “ring of fire” and felt the need to fully surrender myself by relaxing my muscles. My body was reflexively pushing for me! I remember my midwife’s famous words, “You can do hard things.” Just four more insane surges, at 10:16 pm, my little girl was brought earthside, though I was somewhere otherworldly. My supernatural, altered-state of consciousness came back to earth as my midwife briskly floated my baby under my legs for me to victoriously pull her out of the water and onto my chest. 

Sobbing from immediate relief and overwhelmed with a sense of deep accomplishment, I felt inexplicable gratitude gazing into my daughter’s freshly opened eyes. While there were many busy, caring hands surrounding me, all I could see was her face. It was just me and her. She was impossibly peaceful considering the circumstances, which grounds me to the perfection of God’s design. All fear, pain, and discomfort are immediately forgotten and replaced with peace as I stared with awe upon my newest and littlest love. I was instantaneously centered by the barely audible sounds of her breath, and I couldn’t look away or stop smiling! As my birth team danced around us, carrying out various responsibilities, it really was just the two of us. Snuggled into my chest, we were perfectly content. Though she was finally earthside, we were still one being. We had done it. We did it together. What an instinctually primal and impossibly peaceful thing birth proved to be. I was forever transformed.

Our baby girl weighed 8 lbs 10 oz, and we named her Salem, the meaning of peace in Hebrew. And oh how that peace healed me. I rejoiced at the intricate, powerful way my body was divinely designed to give birth.