The story of Mina's birth
The day you chose to arrive, I rocked gently on my birth ball while your daddy planted a willow tree. The trees were alive with color and the breeze whispered softly in my ears. It was a beautiful day.
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After a challenging first pregnancy marked by hyperemesis, your pregnancy felt like a gift. It was breezy by comparison. In the final week between 40 and 41 weeks, I felt emotionally grounded and deeply at peace. I had a strong intuition that labor was near, and throughout that day, I felt the early stirrings of change. Sporadic contractions came and went, and after a 3 p.m. chiropractic visit, my body began to shift into gear.
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Early labor started around 6 p.m. It was sweet and soft. Our dear friend picked up your big sister, Rose, and your daddy and I sank into the quiet together, laughing on the floor mat in the living room. As I swayed through contractions every five minutes, the mood was light and connected. When Rose returned around 8 p.m., freshly bathed and in her pajamas, things started to intensify. Your daddy tucked her in, and in a little miracle of timing, she fell right to sleep without a fuss. He wasn’t gone long.
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The birth pool was set up quickly. I have always leaned on the support of water for back labor, and this birth was no exception. I also used my Elle TENS unit again, just like I did during Rose’s birth. The gentle pulse helped me manage the deep back pressure as things intensified. Your daddy stayed close as the waves built. At 11:30 p.m., my doula April arrived. I was leaning heavily over the bathroom counter, swaying and vocalizing. The sensations were intense. My back throbbed with every contraction, and we suspected you were in a posterior position.
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Around 2 a.m., our midwives Sadie and Jaclyn arrived, along with Jaclyn’s 8-year-old daughter. By 2:29, I was doing an inversion while they confirmed you were in the OP position based on belly mapping, my labor pattern, and how I described the pain. I declined cervical exams throughout. There was a sacred moment when both of my doulas, April and Anna, and both midwives were quietly surrounding me in the darkness of our bedroom. I leaned into a birth ball while your daddy tried to rest nearby, though the pace of things was moving quickly.
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I remember crying out to Jesus and saying, “I’m ready.”
I hadn’t realized until that moment just how much fear I was holding about the shift from mothering one to mothering two. Letting go of that fear opened something in me.
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Around 3:15 a.m., I began to push. I asked everyone for privacy and stayed with your daddy. Just after 3:30, I moved to the toilet, where pushing became strong, instinctual, and primal. At 3:40, I entered the tub and continued pushing there. At 3:44, your head began to crown. At 3:52 a.m., you were born, looking up at the stars.
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Only about 4 percent of babies are born in the complete posterior position. I reached down and felt chubby cheeks and lips. That was unusual, since most often you feel the back of the head. I slowly brought you to the surface of the water, gently unwrapped the cord from around your neck, it had wrapped twice, and held you to my chest. Instant love. Instant relief. Complete joy.
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We had chosen to wait to discover your sex. When I looked down and saw that you were another daughter, tears filled my eyes. I will never forget that moment.
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Golden hour was just that, golden. It felt like a birthday party. So much laughter, warmth, and awe. If I could speak to you one day about your birth, I would say:
I would do it all over again for you. You changed my life.