It was 6 am on Monday, June 17th, 2024.

From what I can remember, it had been a rainy night, and the morning started off gloomy and wet, accompanied by a dose of denial that lingered throughout the morning, even after my team began to arrive.

I absolutely love that I was in denial

—and as a repeat client recently said, “Denial does beautiful things.”

It was denial that helped me navigate the five days after my water ruptured with no other signs of labor, allowing me to remain calm and trust the process. It brought me a peaceful first Father’s Day with my husband and much-needed rest for both of us before labor was in full force. Denial was a quiet ally during those days, easing me into the reality of labor in my own time.

I remember coming out of the bathroom as Jen, the student midwife, crept up the stairs, trying not to startle anyone. I updated her, letting her know that I had just had a decent amount of bloody show, which was met with a giddy smile—the smile of a birth nerd expressing excitement while keeping things calm.

After listening to the baby and checking my vitals, it was decided that Jen would grab coffee and breakfast just down the road. I thought this was a good plan because I was in denial and felt that we had time before any significant changes.

Laboring women side lying to rest between and during labor contractions while her husband holds her hand supporting her.

Molly, our photographer, was a fly on the wall, and Jarrod sat by my side, holding my hand and space. It wasn’t long after Jen left that I went to the bathroom, where I experienced more bloody show and began feeling stronger sensations. Looking back, I wanted the door shut because I thought I needed to have a bowel movement, and I briefly considered checking my cervix, but I didn't want disappointment to cloud the sensations I was experiencing.

Leading up to labor, I had planned for a hands-off birth, not wanting to have cervical exams unless it was agreed upon as necessary. I also didn’t want to fixate on labor numbers like dilation or contraction patterns. However, during these moments, Jarrod asked if I wanted to know how often my contractions were. I said no, yet I continued the conversation by guessing, so he just told me.

He said they were coming every minute, but he had been calculating the duration of them, not the frequency so, in reality,

my contractions were coming every 2 to 3 minutes.

When I came out of the bathroom, I said I wanted to get in the water and asked if we could get the tub filled. I would have gotten in the shower, but I didn’t want to use up the hot water... I really wanted to be in the tub. Jarrod then called Jen to update her, so she headed back.

While the tub was being filled, I paced around upstairs. I leaned over the back of the couch, used my ball to rest while on my knees, and made the bed between waves while holding an emesis bag as I had a watery mouth... the kind that happens before you vomit. I remember hoping that I was in transition as some doubts went through my head.

“Can I do this? Am I getting too tired? I can’t transfer! Is this going to get harder?”

So many thoughts were swirling around in my mind, but what kept creeping back in was my worry about needing to transfer due to exhaustion. Even during my prenatal conversations, I knew the chances were slim, but it was still a concern I held on to. I really wanted to avoid a hospital birth if at all possible. I wanted to be at home, where I felt comfortable and completely in control of my body, without anyone steering me in a particular direction.

As I worked through these thoughts, I kept moving wherever my body wanted to. The movements helped my mind, body, and baby progress.

Dog looking over her laboring human mom who is being supported by dad while getting into the birth tub.

By 7:30 am, yes, only one and a half hours after Jen originally arrived, I was getting in the tub and feeling growing pressure in my bottom. As I got in the tub, I was told not to submerge my belly since the water was too hot. Jen even said, “I don’t know how you’re in there; it's pretty hot.” I love hot baths, and the heat felt amazing on my legs and perineum.

The rest of my labor was mostly spent in the water, and it made a noticeable difference in how I felt throughout my body. Over the next couple of hours, I shifted from the tub to the bathroom a few times to empty my bladder and moved around to help my baby find their way.

While in the water, I changed positions often:

Sitting, reclining, kneeling, and leaning forward.

These positions felt natural to me, and I found myself recalling the different sequences I had practiced during pregnancy.

At 8:44 am, my midwives noticed that I was in the second stage of labor as I became more vocally pushy. It was also during the 8 o'clock hour that my midwives, Joanna and Pauliina, arrived, along with my mom.

There was a memorable moment when I found myself in the dark bathroom, sitting on the toilet, and I decided to check my cervix. However, what I felt was quite different from what I expected, and I really wanted someone to help me understand what it was. When I opened my eyes, I saw Jen and Pauliina looking at me, ready to guide me through what I thought I was feeling.

“Is it kind of hard but squishy?”

“Yes.”

“That’s your baby's head!”

They both reassured me with their bright smiles and excitement, letting me know that my little one would be joining us soon.

What a moment that was! I had fully expected to feel my cervix, but it was no longer there, and all I could feel was my baby’s head. I was complete and starting to feel some urges to push… was I still in denial? Probably not anymore—it’s honestly a bit amusing to think back and try to recall my emotions and the sequence of events.

As denial faded, a time warp began… for me, hours felt like mere minutes.

By 10:30 am, I found myself on my hands and knees in our bed after my latest bathroom visit. I was encouraged to eat something, and I remember agreeing to a spoonful of honey with sea salt. Soon, I shifted to a more restful position on my side… just as pillows were about to be placed between my legs, I called out that there was a peanut ball in the other room. Someone responded playfully, saying something along the lines of, “Oh yeah, this is a doula's house.”

I felt comforted resting in bed with Jarrod by my side. We stayed there for nearly an hour, which, in my memory, felt like only a few minutes— Jarrod agrees.