I’m of the thought that any way that a precious baby safely enters our lives is a tremendous gift. We mothers often have expectations or dreams for birth that may or may not come to happen. I have always strived and fervently prayed for safe, natural births. I’ve been really blessed, after consistently quite difficult pregnancies, to be exceedingly grateful for the stories of each of our children’s births.
Before my first, I found it helpful to read birth stories to better understand the possibilities of what could happen and to feel more prepared. I share my births here not only to record it for our children and to celebrate the faithfulness of God, but to impart hope to those who are uncertain if a “pain-free” and peaceful, spiritual birth is possible. I believe it is… and my birthing experiences are a testament to it! It honestly for me takes a good bit of intentionality and preparation, but thanks be to God, we welcomed our sixth baby just weeks ago, through a beautiful daytime home birth.
I realize my choices and preferences for birth are unusual to many, but I’m at peace and profoundly thankful for how these momentous events have unfolded. If we are open to it, creating and welcoming a new life can be a deeply healing and transformative journey. Thank you for celebrating baby Anneliese Noelle with me, dear sister.
Here is, to the best of my recollection, the story of Anneliese’s arrival! Anneliese is our sixth baby and fourth girl. She was the most active baby in the womb and she has been the sweetest, smiliest little love.
Starting and Bustling
In January I began having many days of prodromal labor, then approximately two to three weeks straight of it before her arrival. It seemed like a never-ending routine of the contractions or “waves” starting and that inevitable jolt of “is this it?!” Besides buzzing around and nesting, I coped in the late night hours by watching episodes of “Madam Secretary,” which was an efficient distraction.
I eventually found myself and my growing little girl ten days past the guess “due date.” Again, this was after nights and nights of off and on intense contractions, likely making slow but steady progress. On Sunday night of January 28th, they started in the evening again.
I began recording the waves around 8ish. They were consistently about 13-15 minutes apart until 10pm, when I texted our midwife Doran a heads up that there hadn’t been a break. This wasn’t wildly different than other nights, but it was more consistent this time, so I shared with her I was planning to go to sleep and would let her know if they got down to 5 minutes regularly. I was so exhausted from the entire pregnancy and the rollercoaster of the last weeks, that at this point that I didn’t want to stay awake swimming in anxiety to just have the contractions be inconsistent again.
Doran said okay, and she’d be on standby.
Each hour through the night I woke up two to three times with an intense contraction, but I just kept aiming to go back to sleep between wake ups and frequent bathroom trips. I didn’t recall waking between 4:30-6am window, so when I woke to sound of the other four little ones running around, I wasn’t sure what the status was labor -wise. I tried to relax and wait in my bedroom to see, but any mother of multiple children knows that once the crew of little ones are awake, the home is full of “you may not relax” forces. I noticed more strong contractions around 7am. Shortly after, I saw Nicholas fully dressed for work and my stomach sank a little realizing he was in business-as-usual mode. The children homeschool on Mondays, and with the realization of what day it was grew a heavy feeling– I just couldn’t imagine powering through the day with the kids at home on my own in this state.
I beckoned Nicholas to a private conversation in the bedroom to give him an update. Now I was teary, sincerely wondering if all the activity/ preoccupation required for a day with four very young children would cause labor to slow down again yet another day.
I decided to ask Doran for advice on the situation, and she messaged back to maybe see if things slowed down or picked up with getting up and moving around more.
So back to the bathroom for the bazillionth time, I started putzing around to get ready for the day. As I put contacts in and brushed my teeth, it was, from what I could detect, the first time the contractions kept going stronger while standing.
I came out and told Nicholas I thought it would be best to find a plan for kids outside the house, suggesting he could work from home until we knew better what was happening. I had an intuitive sense that if I created space physically/ mentally/ emotionally for it, baby would be able to come. I was so tired but a certain womanly strength inside advocated for it.
It seemed as soon as this became the direction we were headed, strong contractions picked up and I saw a text come in from Doran the midwife asking if I wanted her to come. I hesitated for a moment but just responded “yes” and started quickly throwing kids clothes in a bag. My “let’s go!” mother voice kicked in and I started announcing to the household for children to get shoes and coats on, and to head toward the van.
Felicity, just having woken up, stared at me blankly seated on the chaise in the dining room with no movement. Maribelle started revving up the whining/refusing and while Nicholas bent down to her level to start some skillful negotiations with her, I interrupted assertively and asked him to just scoop her up and put her in the carseat– no time for Janet Lansbury empathizing this time! My announcements got louder and more succinct: “EVERYBODY! OUT. THE. DOOR!” Felicity commented later, “you know that was rather abrupt, Mom.”
Aunt Ginger, still in her PJs, emerged from the basement suite and jumped right in to the mix bringing small humans to the carport. With the front door open I realize, woah, it’s cold outside. Get all the coats in a bag. I was full on momma hen darting from one room to the next gathering all the things. Once little people were actively being buckled, I just tossed a full box of pullups and a huge box of wipes behind everyone leaving on the front porch and closed the front door with gusto.
Once they were off, I immediately got dressed for labor and with urgency said to Nicholas who was upstairs doing something, “POOL, BABE!”
He answered back down, “yep!”
I hurriedly headed to our bedroom, put on a hypnotrack on my phone with headphones and started to try to focus into the words. If I had to rate my top fears for childbirth, for some reason one is not being able to get into self-hypnosis early enough to “stay in it” for when it gets real intense. It feels like a race to the starting line in a sense, for me to get to a place to relax and follow the prompts. Once I make it there and do the mental work of convincing myself “I can do this, I can relax,” then the tracks are a reliable, effective guide.
As the powerful waves kept coming I settled into following the audio prompts in my ear. I could also faintly hear scurrying around outside the closed bedroom door. Nicholas was getting the pool and other things ready. I always have a clear birthing time list ready for him that we go over third trimester, and he was intently doing the tasks step-by-step.
I turned up the volume on my phone and lay on the bed on my side to try to minimize any major progression until the midwives arrived. I had done that with our previous daughter’s birth and I liked the leaning into a familiar template. It was then that I entered into my “safe space” that hypnobabies invites you to create during months of hypnobirthing practice…
Entering Safety
My safe space or bubble of peace is a mental home I’ve been visiting for some time now, even before this pregnancy’s hypnobirthing. It is my version of the Holy House of Nazareth aka the Holy House of Loreto aka the home in which Jesus lived before His adult ministry. Tradition teaches us Mary also grew up in this sacred space, and that the Incarnation occurred here. I’ve always been in awe and deep joy contemplating Jesus, Mary and Joseph living their quiet ordinary holy days together in such a simple and beautiful little place.
In my mind it is a humble happy home of stone, with a large hearth centered on the back wall with a fire roaring. I imagine a small kitchen to the left when you walk through the door and then a little further down on the left, a solid slab of wood under a high window overlooking the courtyard. The wood makes a seating bench that doubles as a nice sleeping place. On the opposite wall there is a similar wide bench near the fireplace. There’s also a rocking chair and soft piles of animal skins and a lovely natural broom leaning against the stone wall.
As I enter in my mind, Mary is there and Jesus is there, both peaceful and smiling gently. Joseph is in the courtyard quietly keeping busy with little odd jobs, and staying close to protect the privacy of us inside. I imagine Mary offering me the bench under the window to rest. I gratefully accept and settle in, reclining and facing the fireplace. I can’t see Mary anymore, yet her presence is palpable behind me. Jesus is near the fire, and I somehow instantly know that His love and power is the source of light and heat.
Jesus sits across the room, leaning forward attentive to me.
He is Calm. Tender. All-Knowing .
There is a deep seated love and joy and confidence in me.
He is Fully Present. Fully in Control. Strikingly Still.
Mary remains close, offering touch and strength…comfort, assurance and direction.
It’s as if they both agree there are the fitting places or roles for a time such as this– the feminine mother enveloping me. Her wisdom, knowledge, womanly care that’s incomparable.
Jesus is fully present, the Source, very near and reverential, yet deferring to this wonderful Mother of His. He is offering appropriate space, giving Mary a primary position right now.
Joseph is outside– I don’t see his face but his protection and attentiveness is felt. He is interceding! Keeping silent, busy, useful, he is knowing full well Jesus and Mary have me absolutely covered in all necessary care.
I try to turn my attention back to being there, inside. Warm, welcomed, loved. I am surrendering to birthing time and accepting the beauty, the privilege of this safety where my daughter would be born. It all felt so quiet, simple, poor, and full.
The source of the hypnoanesthia, the calm and strength and focus and sheer ability for any of what I’d be able to offer is Jesus. I am yielding to Him.
The fire began in a mysterious way enveloping the places in my body where I experience the intense birthing waves, my abdomen, back, pelvic area…
as if His touch IS the fire, IS the power and love, IS His hands and burning heart, IS the contraction power and the anesthesia all at once.
It’s a hot amber glow.
Mary is the faceless voice from behind me, merging harmoniously with the very voice of the woman on the audio track.
Active Yielding
The midwife rubs my arm gently “I’m here.”
My conscious mind registers her arrival and that I’ve reached the next step.
I “click” my hypno switch “up” to remain in self-hypnosis and open my eyes to acknowledge her with a smile (I think?) and then I return back into the audio track. I have no need to worry about all the material things now, I have full trust everything is being prepared for birth by Doran, her assistant Denyse and Nicholas. I know them well, convinced of their competence and trustworthiness, secure in their excellent care. I am keenly aware of this safety net set around me. I have no concerns of strangers intruding, doubting my ability, interrupting the holy silence and prayerful flow I was nestled into. While trusting they would give me all the space I needed, I was also assured I’d have these amazing capable persons to turn to with any need.
Doran later told me they arrived at 8:15am.
*I’d like to pause the play-by-play to mention a little prayer that God answered…
After the weeks of prodromal labor, feeling super super super vulnerable for so many hours and nights, I thought how nice it could be to just have a day birth.
Because all but one of my other births “came upon” me like that a “thief in the night” scripture, and because they were so fast, it was mentally (and so then physically) so hard to “catch up” to them. There had always been some fear and anxiety then in subsequent pregnancies to not know when true labor would really start and if I’d be ready to “catch up” to it.
In the wake of the other heavy crosses our family had been experiencing throughout this pregnancy, I craved the beauty, the power, the hope of the light of day… being alert and awake and participating actively within it. Whatever the opposite of drowning and suffocating in darkness would be.
Although the dimness and quietness of nighttime in real ways provides a sense safety and rest (the reason they say most women go into labor in the stillness of the nighttime), my heart had a deep desire for the day this time. I asked God for it. Realizing it may not be His will, I still prayed a simple request for a break in the grayness of long suffering. And what a grace His granting a daytime birth was for my soul.
Also, amazingly, Anneliese’s name… it means “graceful light.”
So to turn back into the action…
I was in active labor for sure, no doubt that it was a good idea to say “yes” to the midwife coming.
As I got up to use the toilet, I noticed gentle bearing down starting. When I came back to the bedroom, I chose to go to the birthing ball on side of bed. Going from a lying down “labor station” to an upright one was a sure way to keep things moving forward. Historically this has always been a moment during labor that required bravery of me. I’m always fully aware at this point that by choosing this shift in position I am assenting for things to amplify. I looked up to see Nicholas waiting patiently on the other side of the bed. His to do list was done so I asked him to come close now, and join me for back counter pressure.
I asked for water periodically, noticing internally I was pushing more at the end of contractions. The waves felt farther apart somehow at this point , like I was being given more rest in between, however Nicholas said later they definitely were becoming closer together.
I went to the toilet again, felt “pushy.” Standing to wash my hands, “more pushy.” I felt things quickening. I had a moment of being a little panicky to get back to my hypnotic “off switch” as it definitely felt like things were speeding up.
Back on the birthing ball, Doran unobtrusively slid in to check the baby’s heartbeat. I then shared my secret that I was feeling pushy, while quietly thinking I wanted to wait longer before going to the pool…
I had planned to go into the water at the transformation stage, but I was aware that every wave now felt good to push. It was curious that it didn’t seem urgent yet, and I noticed it was important to me not to move to the pool prematurely.
Doran came into view and asked what my plan was about the pool. Herein lies a great example of the perfect balance good midwives have of letting you lead, yet also speaking up with their experienced advice when appropriate. She knew I wanted a water birth again. She gave a gentle reminder that I might want to start considering going that way. I smile as I think about it because these moments with my midwives are like when a mother reminds you with that maternal authoritative flair, “it would probably be a good thing to clean your room now,” and your teenagery self knows she’s right, but is slightly annoyed anyway. I didn’t listen to my stubborn side thankfully, and took a second to take stock of where I was at. I asked her out loud something like, “so remind me… if I’m feeling pushy now that means we are just going forward from here, right?” It’s a bit amusing to me now that I had to ask this, but it was an indication of how calm I felt, and how on some level I gauged the waves were still too far apart to be close to transition. Nicholas again told me later that they were definitely actively getting closer together then too.
A quick review of the things I was so grateful for so far, real gifts during active labor:
- the morning sun shining on my face and body
- real warmth from the sunshine corresponding with warmth of the hearth and Jesus’ love/fire/touch
- light breaking through from behind the tree branches– felt like an expression of light and hope and power behind my eyelids
- faintly hearing Nicholas walk around making preparations… filling diffuser with lavender, getting the pool ready, sensing in my hypnobirthing “safe place” him outside with St.Joseph busying and caring for all the little details
- Nicholas joining me at ball with counter pressure adding to the warmth, giving needed reassuring touch
- midwife communicating I was fully capable, through her chosen moments of giving space and checking in
Final Stretch
After a few more contractions on the birthing ball, I rose and moved to the office/guest/birthing room across the hallway. At this point I was no longer actively imagining being in my “safe place.”
I wasn’t quite ready to lift my legs to get into the pool, so I opted for a few contractions on the high back chair. I switched to the hypnotrack for the pushing phase, now listening outloud through the phone speaker. I took off my dress and Nicholas helped me lift my leg and held my arms so I could get into the pool. I was feeling quite vulnerable now, relying on the supportive presence of our little team.
As I settled into sitting in the soothing warm water, a big wave came. I pushed gently and slowly along with it, increasing effort at the end, and continuing the effort down even after the wave was over. Doran asked if I was pushing and reminded me that baby wouldn’t have room to come out in that seated position. I internally agreed, but also wasn’t thinking she was close to coming out… I decided to adjust anyway, while I still had some energy to shift, I thought.
I got on my knees facing outward over the pool, and relaxed onto Nicholas’ shoulders. I did several long very intense pushing waves in his arms.
Pretty exhausted now, I turned around and slid down onto my bottom, sitting for the remainder of the birth. Nicholas was holding me from behind, the midwives were in my front and right view, the crucifix and image of Our Lady of Sorrows were on the wall before me, candles were flickering and it was so, so very quiet.
With the intensity building I started to have some tears and trembling, but thankfully nothing panicky. When resting between contractions, I intuitively did some gentle but strong pushing.
My sight locked in to Mary, Our Lady of Sorrows on the wall as I shed my own tears. It was a gift from a dear friend after losing our son Benedict… so profoundly beautiful to have her with me on my own way of the cross.
I began quiet but audible prayers, knowing strength from here was beyond me.
“Jesus help me.”
“Mary hold me.”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”
Softly spoken, “baby… Baby, you can come now, baby.”
Nicholas began speaking encouragement in my ear now, love notes like, “I’m proud of you,” “you’re doing it,” “you’re almost there,” “I’ve got you” … all while holding my shoulders secure behind me.
I had a difficult time finding a way to anchor my body in the water for pushing.
It felt so good to be weightless and somewhat floating, but I also needed footing to be able to exert the last force needed. This was uncomfortable. The best I could do, (because there was no way I was moving to another position now), was to brace myself with my hands besides me on the floor of the pool. I ended up pushing down and back almost in a position you’d have doing tricep dips on a weight bench. It worked for sure in the sense of giving me the stronghold I needed, but right after getting out of the pool and many days after, it was apparent I had strained all the tiny muscles attached to my sternum with that force.
The midwives remained quiet and attentive during this time, with the periodic encouraging “beautiful” as I pushed harder and stronger. I asked at some point if they could see her (“yes, she’s crowning”) and at another point reminded myself aloud “I’m not in a rush” “I don’t need to hurry” and the midwives affirmed that. Looking back, I see I was really mindful of listening to my body–I trusted it to work even if I needed to rest, but I also often needed to choose courage to “do my part” in digging deep to aid the effort to put behind the pushing, or to urge the wave to go as far as it possibly could.
During pushes I used low gutteral sounds and exhaled the word “peaceeeee” along with the hyonotrack prompts. It was pretty incredible how the script in the pushing track mirrored my own progress.
Finally the last minutes were upon me.
Finally I knew her head was there and a breaking fullness that is impossible to express.
We were not far from meeting now.
Final pushes…
Suddenly I let out a shout for help, I felt like something was blocking the culmination.
her hand/ arm was up by her face so Doran swiftly put her hand there to assist…
and then giving everything I had she broke through!
Then the long whoooosh of her whole slippery body exiting mine…
Her warm and heavy body was brought to me. From her first home to my chest…praise Almighty God and Creator.
We did it. We did it.
Welcome to our arms, my daughter!
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