Everyone loves a good birth story, right? A peaceful and powerful experience, please read along as I guide you through my home birth experience: prodromal labor, unexpected pauses, and a fast transition, culminating in the arrival of our baby girl, Talia Eden, at 1:28am on March 30, 2025. A grounded, heartfelt glimpse into the beauty of intuitive birth and gentle midwife care that we received.
The contractions begin…
I was woken up at 3:45am on Saturday, March 29, by a contraction—but it was different. You know how they say, “You’ll know when it’s time?” This was that kind of contraction. The kind that says, Hey, your baby’s coming soon.
Still, I wasn’t 100% sure. Prodromal labor had been haunting me—those teasing contractions that get you timing and hoping, only to vanish an hour later. So I laid in bed next to Ray, my snoring husband, for another hour and a half, quietly tracking the contractions.
The slow build and the false alarms
By 5:30am, I nudged him awake.
“Hmm? Is something wrong, hun?” he asked groggily.
*unsure smile*
“Oh, you’re going through it, huh?”
“I think so…”
“Are you going to call Emily?”
“I’m seriously considering it. These contractions actually kind of hurt…”
Around 6am, I gave my midwife Emily a call. She told me to keep monitoring and to reach out again when I felt ready for birth support. I agreed, hoping she’d make it in time cue *nervous sweat emoji*.
There were a few check-ins throughout the morning. Around 10am, while brushing my teeth and getting myself together, I noticed bloody show on my liner and updated Emily. She thanked me and noted the color.
A few hours of painful contractions, coming in 7–10 minute intervals, followed, but by early afternoon—around 12 to 1pm—they started spacing out to every 20–30 minutes.
The lull before things shifted again
At 7pm, Emily checked in again. When I shared the update, she quipped that it sounded like my uterus was just showing off. I told her I still felt like something was happening. I had experienced something similar with the birth of my fourth baby. I let her know I’d reach out again if I needed her to stop by and assess.
Quick pause to say—while it might seem like Emily doubted me, she actually trusted me deeply. I’d been able to predict my vitals at most prenatal appointments and knew when to push or pull back with movement. But she also has to lean on her own clinical experience. So her hesitation made sense, and I didn’t take it personally.
Truthfully, I was grateful the contractions died down for a bit. After laboring for eight hours, I got about 8–9 hours of rest before things started to pick back up around 10pm. At first they came every 10–15 minutes, but by 11–11:30pm, they were down to 5–9 minutes apart.
The real work begins
Around midnight, I texted Emily again: the contractions were back, and this time they felt intense. I was having to really breathe and focus through them. Ray helped with heat (hand warmers—game changers during active labor) and counterpressure on my lower back.
Emily asked if I was ready for midwife support. I texted back, “Possibly?”
Hahahaha.
I coyly suggested she swing by and observe a few contractions, maybe help me decide.
She arrived around 12:50am on March 30. When she came into our bedroom, I was still managing contractions calmly. I imagine she thought she’d be there for a while. She said, “I’m not going anywhere now—let’s see how this goes.”
But things were moving.
Labor intensifies, birth is imminent
She continued to observe me. I told her I felt a lot of pressure. She gently asked if I was open to a cervical check, making sure I truly consented. I agreed. She mentioned she could feel the amniotic sac, but it was saggy and hard to gauge dilation. I told her I’d felt that same pressure for the last few contractions.
She asked if I was okay with being checked during a contraction to get a clearer read. I agreed again, and she warned it might be intense. I braced myself and gave her the go-ahead.
As the next contraction rolled in, she checked—and oof, the pressure! I told her as much. She moved quickly and gently. Afterward, she told me I was around 8cm.
Two contractions later, my water broke.
And with that, the intensity skyrocketed. I went from the queen of breathwork to the captive of primal instinct. Ray and Emily both say I stayed grounded, but I felt like I was unraveling.
Emily reminded me, calmly, “You can rest if your urges allow it.” That simple reminder gave me permission. I scanned for slivers of space to rest, and I found them.
The birth of our baby
After just 2–3 minutes of growling and bearing down, our baby was born at 1:28am and placed on my chest. After a kiss to Ray, I gently flipped her over, moved the cord, and—“It’s a GIRL!”
I was elated. Our Talia Eden has finally entered the world!
The hardest part was over—or so I thought. I’d forgotten about the placenta. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t fun either.
After delivering the placenta and spending some time skin-to-skin, Emily offered to help me into the shower. I was more than ready. I handed baby girl to Ray, and Emily supported me as I walked to the bathroom. She reminded me I was a fall risk and to avoid hot water to prevent fainting. I love hot showers, but I listened and kept it warm.
While I showered for about 20 minutes, Ray and Emily changed the sheets and cleaned up the room. When I came out, Emily helped me dry off and put on some Depends. I got settled back into bed where Ray was holding our daughter. Emily took our vitals, and then we weighed her: 6lbs 14oz, and 19 inches long.
A quiet miracle…
Then Emily examined the placenta. She sat with us and explained that it was quite small and spent—falling apart easily, with the texture of ground beef. There was one spot with a small hemorrhage and another that looked like it had begun to die off.
Earlier in pregnancy, we had moved my due date from March 21 to April 2 because baby girl was consistently measuring small—about 12 days behind at every scan. But based on the placenta, Emily said it looked like she was actually born right on time. My placenta resembled one from 41 weeks.
My mind wandered for a moment—What if? What could’ve happened? But then I returned to the moment, thanking God that she was healthy and safely in my arms.
Thank yous and snickerdoodles
By around 4am, our kids began wandering into the bedroom. Their sleepy eyes lit up at the sight of their new sister. My 8-year-old son leaned his head on Emily’s shoulder and said, “Thank you.” Her heart melted.
At 5am, Emily prepared to leave. My 11-year-old daughter sent her off with a bag of snickerdoodle cookies.
Ray and I sent the kids to watch a movie under our 14-year-old’s supervision and finally caught a bit of sleep ourselves—hearts full and baby girl in our arms.
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