“Birth is an opportunity to transcend. To rise above what we are accustomed to, reach deeper inside ourselves than we are familiar with, and to see not only what we are truly made of, but the strength we can access in and through birth.” -Marcie Macari
As I prepared and envisioned how I would give birth, I realized I needed a cozy and secluded environment. I wanted to create a cave-like space where I could retreat. Trusting my intuition, I decided against hiring a birth photographer or inviting bystanders, aiming to drift more easily into my cozy sanctuary. Everyone present at my birth had a role to play, expending their energy to support me.
I focused on what would be calming for my nervous system. I chose a minimalist birth space, with natural or red light, and real candles for lighting. I preferred using my own bathtub, as I suspected the plastic of a birth pool might be bothersome. I wanted calming music and meditations, encouragement from birth art, and the art my girls had created. I hoped my girls and husband would be present, supported in whatever way they were led, without any expectations. I wanted guidance from my doula and midwife.
Early in my pregnancy, I made conscious choices as if each decision was a contract. Over those nine months, I signed many health consent forms, including contracts for moving to a new home, which seemed ironic given my evolving perspective. It was about moving beyond victimization and taking responsibility for every decision related to my birth. In the end, I felt at peace, knowing I had chosen this path.
My goal was to set myself up for a “boring butter birth”—a labor and delivery that was uncomplicated and smooth. I envisioned a drama-free labor characterized by peace, surrender, a brief pushing stage, minimal bleeding, and no tearing.
However, I learned that while I could prepare and envision the ideal birth, I needed to accept and adapt to whatever life presented. I began to understand that it wasn’t just about identifying negative patterns or what I needed to release. It was about how I reacted to events. I realized that my birth would reflect my responses to life’s ebbs and flows, pain, and discomfort.
I often wondered whether I would choose the path of surrender and bliss or resistance and pain—neither right nor wrong, just the path that would foster my growth.
The time had come...
Reaching 40 weeks and 2.5 days pregnant felt like a profound journey. I’m amazed and honored to have been given this body that can create, carry and bring lives to earth.
The number 40 is rich with symbolism—representing trials, reflection, spiritual growth, resurrection, and ascension. It’s beautiful how He makes a new momma within each pregnancy.
For me, I was relearning surrender, understanding pain and dissolving into the ebbs and flows of motherhood. Desperately trying to rise above the waves of how I normally would react. I sought out a soft discipline of continuously choosing to tune into anything uncomfortable or annoying and instead practice gratitude while resting in my sense of Oneness with God.
After being in prodromal labor all weekend, I felt a profound sense of readiness. I felt already changed before the birth even began.
It was a normal day..a storm was moving in. A couple family members chimed in with how Labor Day would be so ironic and perfect for the big day. I touched up my birth space, my hair, my face. Collins requested to watch a birth film for the 30th time, while I enjoyed a cappuccino. In the backyard I watched Josh and the girls have a water balloon fight, then we found ourselves in a change of scenery on a long and slow family walk. I drank my labor-aid, humored curb walking and picked Aster flowers, noticing how I’ll have two September babies.
Amidst the clamor of pots and pans and singing children, I had a bath and did some gentle exercises. Landree joined me in bed, discussing how she could support my birth. We spoke to Blythe, letting her know we were ready for her arrival. As Landree drifted off, I quietly expressed again my desire to embrace joy, surrender and love during birth, and how I trusted it would be divinely guided, “boring” and smooth, peaceful and beautiful. Just before falling asleep I caught a vision of myself pulling my baby to my chest. So I rode on that joy-filled timeline into a deep sleep.
Under the dark new moon and cloud-covered stars, I awoke at 11:30 PM with a powerful wave through my back and belly. A little startled, I tapped on Josh’s shoulder to wake him and said, “I’m scared.” He asked why, and I think my fear stemmed from the intensity of the first contraction. My previous birth had been just an hour and a half long, and the thought of experiencing that again was daunting.
I was gentle with my fear, acknowledging it without letting it overwhelm me. I knew in my heart that everything would ultimately be okay and that I could handle whatever came my way.
I timed a few contractions while lying in bed. Josh started the bath and called the midwife and my doula, both of whom were an hour away.
As I settled into the candlelit bath, Collins peeked around the corner with a big grin. She seemed either excited to be awake in the middle of the night or sensed something special was happening.
Josh explained the situation to her, and she smiled and held my hand. Moments later, Landree joined, bubbling with excitement. I had calming music and meditations playing, and I could hear Landree whispering excitedly, though I had to tell her I couldn’t hear her but appreciated her presence.
We shared frozen grapes and dark chocolate, and the girls offered me sips of electrolyte-infused labor aid. I received kisses, hugs, and reminders to appreciate my birth art. I found joy in their company between contractions, a stark contrast to my previous births—one plagued by annoying insurance questions and the other involving a challenging journey to the birth center.
My midwife arrived, and even with my eyes closed, I felt her presence. After a significant contraction, she listened to the baby’s heartbeat. Her reassuring presence and peaceful demeanor provided comfort as she decided to monitor from another room.
With the midwife there and ready to support, I sat upright to progress the contractions. I later lay back down, because it moved things along almost too quickly. Landree still staying by my side, hugging and encouraging me.
Soon, my wonderful doula rested her hand on my arm. In a leaning-back position, I expressed my fear of moving due to the possibility of increased intensity. She encouraged me not to fear that intensity, reminding me that resisting my body’s natural process was counterproductive. I adjusted my posture, sitting upright and kneeling over the tub, remembering to surrender to the experience, relaxing my shoulders, opening my hands, and moving my hips.
As contractions intensified, I focused on the pain, envisioning my breath flowing in and out of my womb. I pictured a warm, glowing yellow light expanding within me and hummed to release tension, letting my music set the tone—some songs upbeat and playful, others serious and intense. This is what it means to be alive, I told myself with gratitude in my heart.
Feeling nauseous, Josh and Collins quickly brought peppermint oil for me to smell. Shortly after, I felt my body begin to push. It was overwhelming, but I said out-loud, “Thank you, God, and thank you, baby!” because it meant I was nearing the end. In pregnancy, I had trusted my baby to find her path, rather than obsessing over her position and it felt like a nice relief to have reached that mark in labor.
My midwife stepped in to guide me through slowing down the pushing phase, as I requested to avoid tearing. Collins watched closely as I pulled our baby girl from the water into my arms. Josh called out to Landree, “She’s here!” I was soon surrounded by my four beloved family members, and I tilted my head back in relief and joy.
Josh patted my back, saying, “You did such a great job,” as we heard Blythe Bella’s sweet cry. I looked at the girls and exclaimed, “This is our baby!” They giggled at every baby sound, curious about her vernix and umbilical cord. I thanked them for their support and presence they provided me during labor.
I again realized my true love for birth—a calling to connect with God. A swirling vortex of just you, the divine and your baby. The profound connection and bliss it brings to anyone witnessing.
We moved onto the bed and I birthed my placenta. We laughed when we asked Landree if she wanted to cut the umbilical cord, because she quickly replied that she wanted Daddy to. The girls listened carefully to the midwife educating them on the placenta, while I nursed Blythe for the first time. We wanted to start the newborn exam, but then realized she pooped meconium all in the towel that I was holding her in. The girls thought it was hilarious as we got her cleaned up.
Josh took the big sisters back to their rooms and they quickly fell back asleep. Then we finally got to start the gentle newborn exams done by our sweet midwife.
Daddy tucked Blythe in the infant weigh sling and raised the scale. She nearly fell asleep as the midwife called out her weight of 6lbs 10oz. Other routine exams and measurements were taken and then we got all situated for bed. She slept extremely well but me and Josh were too excited to sleep more than an hour.
With her birth, I believe a past and future lineage was healed and empowered. I am proud to be part of a revolution breaking generational trauma through gentle, sovereign births.
A little after sunrise the girls woke up and together came straight to our room. They saw me feeding Blythe and quietly hovered around me waiting patiently for first holds.
Blythe Bella born September 3rd, 2024 at 3:46am.
My joyous beautiful one brought to me on such a dark night and gloomy day.
I stayed in bed for 5 days and ate nourishing warm meals that I meal prepped with a sweet friend. I also was gifted a MamaMeals essentials package from amazing friends and family, instead of a meal train, which I highly recommend. I did move to the couch for another 5 days, but my rule is to pretty much stay in pajamas and take it easy for a full 40 days postpartum ( inspired by the book The First Forty Days) . I have been extremely blessed with parents and grandparents who have come to stay with us and help.
This was super important to me, because I believe the way I take care of myself in postpartum will impact my mental health positively as well as set up my hormones and nervous system for success as a new mother of 3, while also preventing alignments and hormonal imbalances in my Middle Ages.
After Blythe's umbilical cord fell off, we used an afterbirth herbal mix and dried flower petals in a bath to be both healing and beautiful. It was a sweet bonding experience with my Blythe Bella and Josh did a great job capturing it for us.
I hope you enjoyed our story and let us know how it impacted you. Birth is my highest ideal of earthly bliss.
Love,
Dancee
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