This is the longest it’s ever taken me to write one of my birth stories. I’m sure, in part, because I now have 4 children…but I also think that this birth story was not nearly as straight forward as my other births.

The images, the film - they were such gifts that helped me piece this story together. But when I finally sat down to write it out, I realized that a chronological unfolding didn’t make sense for this windy, wild birth.

And so, I decided to share vignettes, and photos to go along with them. When I think about my birth, I think about these separate parts that somehow wove together to bring our 4th baby into the world. It was chaotic at times but also brimming with so much love.

The Girls

July 10th-15th: Going into labor with three vivacious, opinionated, beautiful girls swirling around our home was…both wonderful and a challenge. They were so excited, SO involved, but also a lot for my mama brain to reckon with. Because I had days of prodromal labor…we also had several days where we sent the girls off, brought the girls back home, filled up the pool, cried together, laughed together.

Midway through the week, one of the girls threw up at camp and had to come home early. Then another one of the girls developed a fever. Our sweet sibling doula caught COVID.

It was a constant lesson of letting go, adapting, and trying to embrace the craziness. (And yes, I’m still learning.)

Home

I will be the first to tell you that I experienced a lot of confusion about where to have this baby. I thought about the hospital. I thought about home. I thought about the birth center (and had actually planned to give birth at the Birth Center of Denver with some of my sweet friends who are midwives there).

But as I got closer to meeting Grover, I realized that deep in my heart…I wanted to be at home.

I wanted to be in my own space. With my animals and most importantly with my girls (sick or healthy).

I wanted to labor in my yard.

I wanted to not worry about knowing when to go (especially since I was nearly 8cm dilated before labor even really began).

I wanted to be wear I felt safest.

And so I made the decision to have a homebirth at 39+ weeks. Yes, 39+ weeks.

When I look at my birth images though, I am struck by how right it all feels now. It felt like a bold and daring decision at the time…but I realize now it was simply just the decision my heart knew I needed to make all along.

My Team

In many ways, I was loved and supported and cared for by so many people in the birth community - both locally and across the country. I am forever thankful for the phonecalls and messages and gifts and wishes from fellow birth workers. I’m also forever grateful for the people who supported me in making what felt like a really difficult decision.

Being well known in the birth community is a blessing, but it also brings so much pressure to make the right choice. If you talked to me during my pregnancy - you probably knew I really struggled.

I could write a lot about why, but I think most of it resided in the losses I experienced in 2021. The molar pregnancy, the miscarriages, and other stories I’ve only shared with a few chosen people.

My team ended up being exactly who I needed. People that had walked with me during all of it - even the parts that I haven’t shared (and won’t share) online. I felt safe. I felt seen. And I felt at peace. Finally.

Jennifer Mason, my best friend and the co-founder of Birth Becomes You, flew in all the way from Michigan, and stayed in Denver for a week. When Grover did NOT arrive by her departure date…she made the decision to change her flight and stay in Denver a few days longer. I’m forever grateful for her love, support, patience, and these BEAUTIFUL images. All of these were taken by her (unless otherwise noted).

Lindsey Eden was my birth videographer, my doula, and my dear friend. She took such good care of me and my family in the days, weeks, and months leading up to this birth. She knew what I needed. She held space for me. She supported my choices, time and time again. She is one of my dearest friends, and I treasure my birth video. I’ve watched it literally dozens of times.

Shari was my midwife with Dottie in 2018 - a beautiful and healing birth. But perhaps most importantly - she is one of few people who has sat with me during some of my darkest moments as well. I will never forget her crying with me about my older sister (who died in a car accident). Shari has a way of seeing through the facade - and I felt safe to open up to her about a lot of my most painful stories and moments.

I had gone back and forth about a homebirth my entire pregnancy. When I finally decided I wanted to give birth at home (and at 39+ weeks) I knew Shari would come. And she did. Robin, her partner, also came with her. I love Robin’s spirit - she is a bright light - calm, peaceful, encouraging. But like Shari, the most palpable memories I have of Robin are when she held me after one of my losses in 2021.

I had asked them to be hands-off during the birth but to be very proactive about hemorrhage (one of my big fears). They listened to baby and checked my vitals…but then let Ry and I do exactly what we needed to do.

Ry

I had hoped for a longer labor than my other births for one reason - I wanted more time for Ry and me to walk together, lay together, move together, as we brought our baby earthside. To feel so connected to your partner is a gift that not everyone has (I know this well). But the love that we have for each other just grows bigger and brighter with each year that passes. And I know that creating and birthing and raising our babies will be some of the very best work we do in our lives.

We got a longer labor. We got days and nights. Moonlit walks. Laughter. Connection. Everything I had hoped for with the person I love the very most.

My girls and my son couldn’t ask for a better father. I couldn’t ask for a better partner. And this was one of the the most beautiful chapters of our love story.

Contractions

Oh this labor was so different than I expected. I had contractions for weeks leading up to his birth. I had hours and days where I was certain he was coming. And yet…he waited.

When I finally went into labor on Friday night, July 15th, I could sense that something was different. The contractions that were coming were stronger - and I could almost feel the hormone shift in the air. But despite my every effort…they didn’t ever really become patterned or close together. The whole afternoon and evening we tried everything - walking, squatting, nipple stimulation, clary sage. Lindsey and Jennifer even took the girls across the street so that Ry and I could have some quiet time together.

One would come and I would greet it with my breath. Welcome it. Open to it. And then it would fade away.

I spent time in the garden, under the moon and the stars.

They never got close…and they never got painful. The intensity did increase - yes - but they felt SO different from the contractions in my other births. When Shari told me I was 8cm, I was shocked because I really didn’t feel like I was in labor. I had her check me one more time around midnight (because I was about ready to send the entire team home) and she told me I was practically fully dilated. Just a small, moveable lip.

“I’m ready to get in the tub.”

Pushing

Once I was in the water, everything shifted. My body finally began to contract with intensity (every 3 minutes or so) and I began to breathe my baby down.

I should have known he was bigger when he didn’t come flying out. But my body knew - and I instinctively alternated between breathing down and pushing with all my might.

After what felt like an eternity, my water broke into my hands. Almost instantly, I felt him him hit my pelvic floor. He was coming. He was coming now. I pushed him right into Ry’s hands…and then together…we brought him up out of the water.

Grover

You. I waited so long for you.

I walked what felt like was an impossible path to find you, yet again. My first boy. My rainbow baby. My reminder that good still comes, even when the world feels incredibly dark. You were born right into our hands. You found us beneath our brick fireplace - the exact same place your dad had held me in January of 2021 when we were grieving, so deeply grieving, our molar pregnancy.

Your face was purple from a fast descent.

You cried right away to let us know you were okay.

You could barely open your eyes (and I can’t blame you). This world is so bright, isn’t it?

You were surrounded by your sisters, who adored you and still adore you.

You were born to one of our favorite songs (Thirteen by Ben Kweller)

You never left our arms.

We named you Grover because our 120-year old home is nestled in a city grove of trees. You were born into this old, old house with over a century of stories, of love, of family, of home. Your middle name is Alden, which means Old Friend. And in so many ways…I feel like you are an old friend - returning to us after a long separation. My heart feels full, complete, and so very thankful we found you, you found us, we’re together again.

Sisters

Just as I had expected, it took my younger girls going to sleep to finally have my third baby. But as soon as Grover was here - Eliza bounded the stairs. I had been so worried about how she’d react to a homebirth because she is my sensitive one. But the look on her face when she finally saw Grover still takes my breath away. She talks about his birth all the time with such pride and joy. She stayed down with us for a good 30 minutes before deciding she needed a break…and then she walked upstairs, played with her dolls, and fell back asleep.

And then Dottie - our little charmer - got woken up during a sleep cycle. And so she SCREAMED for a good ten minutes for me to come upstairs (while I was still in the birth tub) - a reminder that everything won’t be perfect at your homebirth and that’s more than okay. When she finally did come down (I think Jenn bribed her with some candy) the joy on her little face more than made up for the screaming. She became completely enamored with Grover…and has stayed the same ever since.

Lucille

My oldest child - the baby who made me a mother. You are nine years old, and one of the kindest, most beautiful souls I know. I feel so lucky that I get to help raise you - but really you are the one who is teaching me.

You wanted to be part of this. You wanted to watch me labor. Watch me birth. I had asked you when I was pregnant with your sisters - but you knew you weren’t ready yet. I’m so proud that you already know yourself so well.

I remember so much from my birth, but perhaps the most tangible memories are of you stroking my hair and holding my hands as I pushed you baby brother into the world. I flashed back to your birth - how scared and overwhelming and new it all felt to me. And yet here you were - I had done it, and I was doing it again with you by my side.

Your birth nine years ago healed me and opened me up to so much…and I know I wouldn’t be where I am without you. Thank you for bringing such light into our family, again and again. Grover is so lucky to have you as his sister, his friend.