They Thought We Were Crazy to Plan a Home Birth...And Then Corona Happened. Here's Our Labor and Delivery Story.

Before Evan (husband) and I tried to conceive for the second time around, we wanted to select our healthcare provider first.

For our firstborn, we were under the care of a midwifery group in Chicago. This midwifery group was affiliated with a hospital and only did in-hospital births. Since we had such a pleasurable experience with our midwives in Chicago for both our prenatal care and labor and delivery, we knew that we wanted a midwife again—especially after reading too many horror stories regarding the subpar treatment of African-American women during labor and delivery. 

But once we moved to Memphis, we realized that our options were more limited. 

9 Weeks Pregnant with Baby Girl.

We couldn’t find a midwifery group affiliated with a reputable hospital near our home. And there aren’t any birthing centers in Memphis. Therefore, we decided, after much prayer and research, to do a home birth with a midwife of choice. By the grace of God, we landed our feet with the best midwife in Memphis. Many thought we were crazy to do this.

But let me tell you.

Our prenatal care was out of this world. I’ve never felt more heard and seen. It felt like this midwife cared for me and my baby with the mindset that she would one day have to stand before God and give an account for her treatment of me and my baby girl. Her reverence and respect for my health, and the health of my child, were unmatched.

In addition to the superb care I received, the level of accessibility to my midwife truly mattered during nights when I was at a loss and needed answers to questions. 

But more than that, when Corona happened, I’m so thankful we had the option to labor at home.

I know the ability to have a home birth is not accessible to everyone, nor do I ONLY advocate for home births. There are circumstances in which a hospital birth is needed and probably better for a person’s psyche, depending on the woman.

But for me, I’m thankful my husband and I chose this path because it made a world of a difference being able to labor at home. I felt at peace. I felt relaxed. And due to Covid-19, the added perks were that laboring at home meant I could still have my doula by my side while laboring; I didn’t have to worry about possibly being exposed to Covid-19 while hospitalized with other patients and being separated from my baby girl if I tested positive (stories like this were coming out around the time of my labor in May).

But enough of that. 

Here’s the story of my labor and delivery. In this post, I use several technical terms because, honestly, other women’s stories helped me in the past to make decisions. And such stories gave me hope. This is why I write in such detail. Enjoy!

I woke up around 11:30 PM to use the restroom. This time, things felt different. While using the restroom, I felt a slight cramp while pooping. I glanced at my phone and saw a missed phone call from my mom that was sent around 10:30 PM. My mom is typically in bed by 9:00 PM. She never calls past 9:30 PM. 

“Hey Mama, I was asleep when you called. Is everything okay?” I texted. 

“Yes. Just calling to check-in,” she texted back immediately. 

Then I knew. I knew exactly why she was calling. 

She was calling to see if I was in labor. And I think I was. 

Around 3:30 AM, I raised myself up off of the bed for the third time that night. What I was feeling weren’t Braxton Hick contractions. These were the beginnings of labor. I woke up my husband and let him know that I was sleeping in the living room because I’d been having contractions for the past hour. He got up,  pumped more air in my birth ball, helped me downstairs, and then went back to sleep. By this second birth, we both understood that labor doesn’t always come quickly and that we would both need our energy for what was to come. 

Thankfully, I got another two hours of restful sleep and then texted my mom around 6:00 AM to come pick up Evan Jr., our two-year-old son. I was still having irregular contractions that were stronger than Braxton Hicks.

I texted my doula and my midwife and let them know that I’d been having contractions. At this point, my mucus plug hadn’t dislodged yet nor had my water broken. 

My midwife came over by 8:30 AM to check my effacement and dilation. I was 3cm dilated. She did a membrane sweep to help kick start things and then she left my husband and me alone to labor peacefully at home. I’ve heard this before, but women often don’t like to be watched while laboring—especially in the beginning stages. This couldn’t have been more true for this labor. 

After my midwife left, Evan finished some last-minute emails before taking off work for the day, and I set off to clean the house. When we both finished, we went outside for a walk around 10:00 AM. At this point, the contractions left me paralyzed in place until they passed. I was definitely in labor. 

This position on my birth ball felt great in between contractions.

Although the contractions were fairly strong, they were also very much irregular. As with my first pregnancy, I thought I was having “prodromal labor”, But what I’d soon find out, I’m simply prone to having irregular contractions during all of my labor (even when in active labor—6cm+ dilated). 

As Evan and I walked outside, anytime I felt a contraction, Evan knew to become completely quiet, to grab my waist from behind, and to squeeze my hips together until the contraction passed. In addition to regular walking, I did some curbside walking too. After 30 minutes, we went back inside. 

At this point, my doula came over and helped Evan set up the birth pool in our bedroom. She coached me through different positions to do while contracting. She brought over a peanut ball and instructed me to lie on my side and to prop my leg over the peanut ball for about 30 min-60 min on each side. And then she showed me the following exercises: forward-leaning inversion, rebozo manteada, and walking up the stairs sideways. Although my doula advised me to do these exercises, she emphasized the need for me to rest as much as possible. I was going to need my energy once my contractions picked up later on...especially during the  “transition.”  At this point, my contractions were definitely more acute than Braxton Hick contractions but they weren’t unbearable. 

Birth pool. For those of you wondering, there is a lining underneath the pool as well.

Once my doula left, Evan Sr. and I began watching a movie while I propped my leg over the peanut ball. Then we ordered some Indian food. While I laid on my side, I still had contractions, but again, they weren’t unbearable. Many times, Evan Sr. didn’t know I was even having them. By the time the movie was over, I got up off the couch to use the restroom and realized that the back of my pants was wet as if I had used the restroom on myself.

My water had officially broken! 

I was told that the peanut ball would help open up my pelvis. I just didn’t expect my water to break so quickly. 

Evan and I eating takeout food and watching a movie. The blue ball is the peanut ball.

Now that my water was broken, I knew that my contractions were definitely about to pick up. (My midwife needed to know the exact time my water had broken, the color of the water, and the smell.) At this point, I became more excited. I never experienced my water breaking on its own with our first child (my midwives ended up breaking it) and so this was exciting for me to experience. 

Sure enough, my contractions began to become more intense, but they were still very much irregular—every 5, 10, or 20 minutes. Around 4:00 PM, my midwife came back over.

Here’s what’s crazy.  The moment my midwife came over, my contractions completely stopped. The reason why was because my midwife brought her assistant over as well. I didn’t realize just how much my body would respond to the presence of a stranger. Due to COVID-19, I never had the opportunity to meet my midwife’s assistant beforehand, as a precautionary measure to limit unnecessary exposure. But here she was. And although the assistant was extremely nice and friendly, my body still responded by my cervix beginning to close back up. My midwife checked me and I was 5.5 cm dilated. Since I still had some ways to go, I thought I’d feel better if my midwife and her assistant left (since my midwife lived 5 min away) and came back later to check me.

Once the midwife and the assistant left, Evan and I watched another movie. I laid down with the peanut ball, and we ordered some more takeout (Moroccan food). My contractions were more intense at this point, and Evan definitely knew whenever I contracted. 

Around 8:30 PM, my midwife and her assistant came back over to check how far along I was. Right before they came over, I was mopping the floor and Evan was putting dishes up. I share this because although my contractions were more intense, things were completely normal in between contractions. Honestly, watching movies and carrying on as normal helped time to go by more quickly.

In the middle of my midwife checking me, I had the most intense contraction while lying on my back (it’s unfortunate that many conventional healthcare providers ask many women to labor like this).  Although I was dilating more (6.5 cm), my effacement remained the same. Apparently, baby girl was coming down but then going back up. If I didn’t do something differently, this was going to be a long labor. In order to help baby girl contract downwards, my midwife used a Boba wrap to wrap around my belly and tied it right underneath my belly as a sort of bind Whenever I contracted, this belly bind helped baby girl go downwards instead of outwards. Once this wrap was tied around my waist, I could tell an immediate difference in my contractions.  My contractions were much more intense. 

After I was checked, the assistant recommended I sit backward on top of a toilet and spread my legs out to help my cervix open up more. I did this for about five contractions and became extremely tired. I could feel the baby pushing downwards. The assistant shared with me that she had two children and that her labors were quite long. For whatever reason, by the assistant sharing her childbirth experience with me made me relax completely. I no longer viewed her as a stranger. Just knowing that this was another mother who had gone through what I was currently going through (and probably a lot more), made me feel connected to her.

Around 9:30 PM, I decided to lay back down with the peanut ball as the contractions were becoming very painful. At one point, I thought to myself, I really need my Doula now! My doula had experienced seven natural births. She understood me and had a motherly way about her that made me trust her completely. I knew my mom would have a difficult time watching me in so much pain and I needed her to take care of Evan Jr. So having my doula there meant everything. I didn’t realize that I had forgotten to tell my doula to come back over at this point (she only lived five minutes away.) But without me realizing, I guess my doula just had a hunch, she came back over on her own volition. With the next contraction, she was already behind me holding me! When I saw her behind me, I just cried because the contractions were hurting pretty badly at this point and I needed her. 

After a few contractions lying down with the peanut ball, I wanted to change rooms. We all headed downstairs, and at this point, I began to feel exhausted. I felt the baby coming down and the contractions were growing more intense. I needed to sleep. 

Here I am lying on my side with my leg propped over the peanut ball.

Apparently, at this point, I’d go into a deep sleep (snoring and everything) and then wake up the moment a contraction came. I was still having irregular contractions, although they were growing more intense. 

After three hours of going in and out of sleep, my body began to do some weird bodily stuff. During a contraction, I’d become hot, and then right after the contraction passed, I’d become very cold. At one point, I began shivering and shaking—indicating a change in hormones. Later I had an episode of throwing up profusely and then felt the urge to poop. It seemed like my body was being taken over. Transition was coming. But the baby didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight (from my perspective.) 

I had no concept of time. Hours and minutes blurred together. My only focus was making it through the next contraction. I could feel myself growing weary. At one point, I turned on the song “Waymaker” and in between contractions, I said aloud repeatedly “I CAN DO THIS.”

But I felt so weak inwardly.

I really needed the Lord.

At 4:00 AM. I was done. I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked at my midwife and rhetorically asked, “How long? How much longer do I have to do this?” 

My midwife, in her melodic voice, continued to reassure me that I was doing an amazing job, that I was so strong, and that this labor was going really well. My doula echoed her same sentiments. I didn’t believe a single word. I needed to know how much longer. My husband, midwife, and doula appeared crazy. At this point, I didn’t know how they could possibly sit here and watch me go through this. Then I began to wonder how my midwife and doula even had natural births...and then chose to do it multiple times. All I knew was that I needed this baby out of me. In response to my midwife and doula’s commentary, I told them with great assertion that I was done laboring in the positions that they were advising me to labor in (which were all for the purposes of opening up my cervix).

I looked at Evan and told him to go get the pool ready. I needed some relief. I hadn’t gotten in the birth pool up until then because my contractions were still so irregular. Evan, my midwife, and my doula were concerned that If I labored in the pool, my body would relax too much and stop contracting all together. This happened during my first labor with Evan Jr.

But I didn’t care. I needed relief.

My midwife approved and told me to do whatever I needed to do in order to rest. With that, Evan and the assistant ran upstairs and began getting the birth pool ready. But after 20 minutes, the pool still wasn't’ ready and I was angry. I got up and told my midwife and doula that I needed to squat for the next contraction. I just needed some sort of relief. 

My midwife told me to do whatever I felt was comfortable. With that, I took two steps to the living room and squatted. I endured three or four contractions while squatting. At one point, I asked my midwife to hold me while I contracted. Her embrace helped so much. These contractions were coming right after each other, which was in complete contrast to the irregular contractions that I was experiencing before.  

After the fourth contraction,  I got on all fours and pushed.

I felt something coming out and heard something. It almost sounded like an egg hatching. At this point, I believe my midwife thought I was pooping. But then I began doing a deep inner groan while pushing.

I heard my midwife and doula pause. I could tell that they had heard this type of groan all too often and knew what it meant, even if I didn’t. This baby was coming out...now!

My midwife yelled for her assistant and for Evan to come downstairs immediately. I heard feet hitting the stairs. But I was in such a transfixed state. I just kept groaning from deep within and pushing. At this point, my doula was facing me eye to eye and telling me to breathe. “You’re almost there sweetheart. Keep breathing. You’re doing great. This baby is coming. Yes, just like that, ” she kept repeating assuredly.  My midwife was behind me. One thing I kept hearing my midwife say was, “Slow and steady. You’re doing great. Slow and steady. Push on the next contraction. Slow and steady.”

Our baby girl’s head was already out. 

What’s interesting is that with this birth, unlike my first in which I had an epidural, the pushing was the best part. It felt so good to push. It felt so natural. I didn’t need advice on how to push, when to push, or what position to get into. I just knew. I knew to groan from deep within. To get on all fours. To push whenever I felt like I was supposed to push. 

Within seconds, the baby glided out. 

Our baby girl cried immediately! My midwife cleared her nose and lungs and then handed Ada to me between my legs. I was still on all fours. I reached for Ada between my legs and then everyone helped me slowly sit down on my bottom.  

After that, everything's a blur. Her umbilical cord was cut. I do remember laying back and delivering my placenta (it happened so quickly).  And I do recall giving Ada back to the midwife so the midwife could do some quick assessments. At this point, I could feel my perineum swelling up but I wasn’t in pain due to not having any tearing, praise the Lord.  I’m so thankful my midwife told me to go slow and steady while pushing. My doula and midwife then helped me to the restroom to pee and to put on a diaper. Afterward, Evan guided me to the couch so I could feed Ada. Ada latched on instantly. Her body felt so warm. Her vernix smelled so sweet. And her beauty captivated us all. I bonded with her instantaneously.

Later, my doula and midwife shared with me that they knew the baby was coming the moment I said, “I can’t do this anymore.” Apparently,  every woman says that right before the baby comes.

And I was no different. I’m so thankful for this experience.

Ada Rose was born on May 27th at 4:20 AM.

Looking back, I felt like there were thousands of angels in my living room ministering to me during this birth. I felt the strength and presence of the Lord so acutely. With our first child, I truly believed that I was strong enough, well-read enough, child-birth educated enough to have a natural pregnancy. The Lord humbled me real quick. With this pregnancy, I knew I couldn’t do this without Him. I actually knew—not some false humility kind of “knew.” I seriously knew I needed the strength of the Lord.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it’s typically the moment a laboring mother says, “I can’t”, that her baby comes.

To any beautiful mama about to have her baby. Eat your dates, do your squats, get chiropractic care, go through child birth education classes. But you better not forget this…

“ …apart from me you can do nothing.” -Jesus John 15:5

so pray my sister. And ask those around you to do the same.

God, Princeton, & My Pondered Thoughts: A Memoir of My Encounter with God at an Ivy

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Our Miracle Birth Experience

For the 4th time, I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom. But this time was different. After several weeks of praying “when?”, I  finally heard a subtle hint. As I walked to the restroom, God let me know, in His own way, that my labor would start on that Wednesday. Therefore, on Tuesday night, I waited in anticipation for our newest arrival. I figured labor would be quick and easy and that the baby would be arriving within hours. Oh, what an assumption!

Around 11:30 PM on Tuesday night, I suddenly woke up in discomfort. It felt like something was sliding down my birth canal.  I didn’t think it felt like a contraction. Instead, I thought that it was simply an uncomfortable sleeping position that I found myself in.  However, after laying back down for another 30 minutes, I woke up again in discomfort. This time, I got up to use the restroom. I soon discovered that my mucus plug had fallen out. How I wish you could've seen my excitement! While in the restroom, I sent a quick text to one of my best friends to begin praying. I subtly alluded to her that I was in the beginnings of labor. I then took my birthing ball to the living room and began attempting to open up my hips, while distracting myself with a documentary on the history channel. After about an hour of doing that, my adrenaline kicked in when considering that I could potentially see our son in the coming hours. I really wanted to get labor going. By this time, my husband had awakened and his face was priceless when seeing me in the living room bouncing on a birthing ball at 1 AM in the morning. I didn’t want to wake him, because I figured that he would need all the rest he could get in case I was actually in labor.

“I think we should climb stairs,”  I said in response to his contemplative expression. 

After little convincing, regarding the benefits of climbing stairs to kick-start labor, Evan put his tennis shoes on. I think Evan's sudden sense of urgency had less to do with wanting to start labor and more to do with not wanting to hear another wave of incessant convincing proceeding from my lips. With that, Evan and I went to the lower level of our condominium and climbed 19 flights of stairs. Sounds crazy, I know, but didn't I tell you that I was running on adrenaline with the thought that we could soon be seeing our son?!

While climbing stairs, I soon realized that the discomfort that I was feeling earlier were actually subtle contractions. I came to this realization after seeing that the discomfort only came every 10-15 minutes. Well by 2:00 AM, after climbing 19 flights of stairs, Evan and I went back to sleep. With each contraction, I woke up to record the duration of the contraction on my app “contractions.” By 6:00 AM, the contractions were still 10-15 minutes apart. Because I was still running on adrenaline, I woke up, cleaned up, showered, shaved my legs (yes, I wanted to look like a woman during labor), and placed our suitcases by the door. By 7:00 AM, I woke up Evan and asked him to take me to Whole Foods, which was right down the street, for my last meal before heading to the hospital (so I thought). With that, we left for Whole Foods with our suitcases, stroller, and car seat in tow.

At Whole Foods I purchased my favorite frozen pizza (yasssss Table 5 cornmeal crust pizza) and purple grapes. I’d been planning for weeks to eat this before heading to the hospital, where I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat once I was admitted.  Well after returning home and consuming my last supper, by 12:00 PM, the contractions were growing more intense. Yet, they were still 10-15 minutes apart. By late afternoon, my contractions had stopped all together and didn’t resume until later that evening. This birth experience was already not going according to plan.

By Wednesday night, the contractions started back up again. This time, they were consistently 10 minutes apart and much more intense. Around 5:30 AM on Thursday morning, Evan and I took several laps in the lobby of our condominium and climbed a few stairs. I hadn’t gotten much sleep from the night before, and by this time, I just wanted our  baby to come. As the day progressed, my contractions didn’t cease but remained steady by being 10 minutes apart.

Let me pause by stating that at this point, the contractions were...painful but NOT unbearable. When they’d come, I would pause, concentrate, and breathe/moan throughout them. I would become so irritated if Evan asked me any questions or made any noise/comments when I was contracting. It was as if I needed all the concentration to focus throughout each wave of intensity.

Okay back to the order of events. As Thursday morning went on, I became accustomed to hearing my own moans every 10 minutes. With each contraction, I told myself the baby was that much closer to being seen. But by 3:00 PM on Thursday afternoon, I had had enough. I was riding  in the car with Evan, after letting him know, pretty sternly, that I needed some Nana Moo coconut milk ice cream from Mariano’s... because Whole Foods, which was around the corner, didn’t have the flavor that I wanted. So there we were, driving to the store. After purchasing it, we called the midwife. What I wanted to say to the midwife was,

“I’m in pain! I’m ready to have this baby. Be ready cause we about to show up at this hospital!”

But, I didn’t.

Instead, I politely answered the coming questions.

“No, my contractions aren’t 3-5 minutes apart. No, my water hasn’t broken. (And no, I don’'t want to just wait it out!).”

We weren’t going to the hospital after all. Because I requested to have a natural labor, my midwives suggested that I labor at home as long as possible until I was in active labor (which supposedly would occur when contractions were 3-5 minutes apart).

So after leaving the store, Evan and I headed back home. By 4:30 PM, my friend came over to help me do some more walking in order to hopefully get labor going. We walked...and walked..and walked. Every 8-12 minutes, we’d pause, I’d  lean against the wall, and inwardly yelp.

By 6:00pm, my contractions were still just as intense but not consistent.

By 8:00PM, while watching a movie with my friend and her husband who were keeping us company, I let Evan know that I wanted to go to the hospital. Because I was planning on having the baby naturally, we knew that this didn’t make much sense considering our plan was to only go to the hospital once I began active labor (i.e. at least 6 cm dilated) so that I wouldn’t be laboring at the hospital for so long.  Despite these reminders, I wanted to go to the hospital right then.  

Evan, using his better judgment, suggested that we wait a couple of hours to see what would happen. Well around 10:30 PM I went to bed. Actually, I pulled out a sleeping bag to sleep on the floor, because at this point, I needed to be able to lift myself up easily whenever a contraction came. But upon laying down and enduring the next contraction, I yelled with so much intensity that I shocked myself. (There's something about laying down, versus sitting up/walking during a contraction, that made contractions worse) I ran to the restroom and yelled for Evan. With the next contraction, I told Evan to take me to the hospital. I’m not usually so forceful (well, during pregnancy, such force would come about when a craving overcame me, hence the scenario with the NanaMoo ice cream) but I got up, grabbed my coat, my keys, my phone, and headed towards the door. I wasn't playing lol. Thankfully, our friends were still over. My best friend and her husband had actually decided to spend the night, just in case something like this were to happen. I’m so happy they did, because my friend’s support proved most pivotal in the coming hours!!

We called the midwife, and after letting us aware of our options, the midwife left it up to us to decide whether we wanted go to the hospital. My mind was made up. And thankfully, Evan didn’t object (I didn’t leave him much of a choice). Therefore, we all rushed to the hospital.