If you had told me that after my first son’s birth—36 hours of painful labor that left me in a state of physical distress from my clavicle to my…well, you know where— that I would be excited to birth my second son epidural-free, I’d have said, “You can call me crazy. But even when his labor and delivery seriously wrecked me, that birth was the most magical experience I have ever witnessed.”
Epidurals are the norm. Labor and delivery have become too painful a phenomenon to endure, and therefore moms everywhere determine that epidural-free births cannot even be tolerated.
But I am telling you, if you want, you are more than capable of having an epidural-free birth.
Don’t get me wrong. In my first birth (you can read that birth story here), I looked directly at my husband 28 hours into labor and asked him, “Is this even worth it? What if I just got an epidural?” Thankfully, too exhausted, Jonathan did not hear me. “Ignoring” my request, he and my doula moved me into a different position. Before going into labor (you can read about 5 ways to help you labor naturally here), I had determined a safe phrase that would signify I really wanted an epidural. But I never fought for the epidural. I had trained my mind to know that this pain was good. My body was made to conceive and birth a child.
I knew I could do it.
As the days drew closer to meeting the newest addition to our family, I began to worry if Jonathan and I could handle an epidural-free birth again on our own. If I’d be able to labor naturally without our amazing doula, Meg, leading and pulling me toward the end result. Because of COVID-19, only one support person was allowed in the hospital room with you at all times. And thankfully I could have that one person.
And now, after labor, I find my birth story almost comical because God recognized my fears, met my needs, and gave me the perfect beginning to my epidural-free birth story.
Days before my due date, we devastatingly thought my husband had come down with Covid. Chills and stomach issues riddled his body. Scared, panicked, and mad, I silently begged my son not to come while we waited on Jonathan’s test results. The thought of going to the hospital alone to have an epidural-free birth scared me to the core. And it’s not that I am against epidurals. It’s just that HAVING an epidural scares me more than NOT having one.
Saturday morning, we prayed and waited for the results. And they returned…negative! Praise God! I had thankfully not gone into labor.
On Saturday night, my parents and brother came down for a last-minute dinner. Monday was my due date. But since Baby Boy had not come yet, I had succumbed to thinking he would be after his due date. We ate, Sam and I had a dance-off, and mom and dad kissed us good night feeling quite certain that our sweet little bundle of joy would not come tonight.
Oh, boy, how fast labor can progress when you’re really not expecting it.
I had a small inkling that I should have just told my parents to spend the night that night (they live about an hour away), but I didn’t think much of it. Jonathan and I finished cleaning up, watched a quick episode of Schitt’s Creek, and called it a night. But baby boy was just waking up, and soon I would find that I would miss out on sleep entirely.
At about midnight I started feeling Baby Boy’s head consistently very low in my pelvis and constant pressure at the base of my uterus. I thought possible contractions had started, but I didn’t want to raise my hopes. I decided I would lay there and continue to breathe through the tightening I was feeling. My word as I breathed through each tightening was “open.” Open and make a way for the birth of this little guy,
Around 1:00 am when the tightening became more consistent, I downloaded a contraction app and started timing contractions. After an hour, they were consistently 5 minutes apart for about 40-50 seconds each.
About 2:00 am I woke Jonathan. I whispered to him about my contractions, but I wanted to keep timing to make sure. I also told him the last-minute items we needed to ensure we were ready for the hospital. Jonathan got up and made sure everything was ready, including putting the car seat in the car. Yep, we were already second-time parents.
At 3:00 am my contractions continued for less than 5 minutes apart. We decided to call my mom to let them know to head our way. To her surprise, I told her I was having consistent contractions but not to rush. I explained I thought she had some time to get to our house. I was able to speak through contractions, a good sign that the time had not come yet to “rush” to the hospital.
As I laid in bed, allowing the contractions to wash over me, I reminded myself of my affirmations.
That I GOT to do this: experience my body in a powerful way that only birth would allow; that I was more than capable of handling whatever this labor threw at me; that each contraction brought me closer to meeting my baby. These affirmations were key to mentally prepare me for an epidural-free birth.
At 4:30 am mom and dad arrived. I was able to get up and tell mom that I would continue laboring in bed. Contractions were getting a little closer together.
By 5:45 am my contractions jumped to 2-3 minutes apart.
I wanted to wash my hair and shave my legs before birth, so I got up and showered. Birth can sometimes wreck you, and I at least wanted one last good shower before that happened. I was getting a little nervous because I was having to squat and really breathe through contractions. But I continued getting the last-minute items into my hospital bag. I had laughed at my husband’s fears of birthing our child at home. Now I was hoping we’d make it to the hospital.
Around 6:15 am I called the doctor and told her my contractions were 3 minutes apart. I was still able to speak through them for the most part, or so I thought as I handed the phone over to my husband to explain our situation.
6:30 am found me getting the rest of my items together. I kissed mom goodbye (she had woken up to take care of Sam) and headed for the hospital. I could barely sit in the car because my contractions were becoming more intense causing me to concentrate entirely on breathing and allowing my body to “open.”
As we pulled into the hospital, strong contractions caused Jonathan to park instead of dropping me off at the entrance.
He asked if he could drop me off or if I wanted to walk to the front of the hospital. Fearing my birth would stall, I opted to walk. I wanted to make sure labor was progressing in order to make it through epidural-free. Walking from the car to the hospital door, I squatted at the crosswalk, elevator, and triage room.
At 7:00 am I checked in. Laying down to get my cervix checked was almost impossible. Because my last labor had progressed so slowly with my first son, I didn’t want to know how dilated I was. Later, I was told I was already 6cm dilated. I also later found out the nurse had called the doctor to say the doctor should get to the hospital…SOON.
It was 7:15 am before we made our way to the labor and delivery room. The nurse asked if I wanted a wheelchair or if I wanted to walk. Again, fearing a stall, I opted to walk. I squatted several times on the way there. Contractions were getting more intense.
At 7:20 am, we arrived at labor and delivery, where our nurse Ryan never had the chance to leave my side. I couldn’t even sit on the bed. I sat on the birth ball (once Jonathan hand-pumped it up). He and I repeatedly sang the word “looooooow” in a deep voice as contractions got closer and closer together and a lot more intense.
8 am I sat on the toilet for 3 contractions as I felt I had to poop. Jonathan knelt in front of me as I squeezed the life out of his shoulder.
8:30 am We made our way back to the end of the bed. I felt pressure so powerful it caused me to involuntarily puke. Ryan told me I must be transitioning since puking and pooping were both signs that the baby was near. I couldn’t believe it would happen this fast, so I ignored her.
It was here in this moment that I thought about an epidural. If I had to go however many more hours with this pain, I didn’t know if I could handle an epidural-free birth.
Around 8:40 am Ryan asked if I was feeling constant pressure or a need to push. I told her I didn’t think it was to that point yet. Ryan asked if I could get on the bed so she could check me, and I told her I couldn’t move from my squatting position.
8:45 am I had a change of feeling because it was at this point I told Ryan and Jonathan, “He’s heeeeeeeere. He’s comiiiiiiiing! He’s coming NOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!!!!” Ryan asked to check me. I told her (as politely as I could), if she wanted to check me, she and Jonathan would have to physically lift me onto the bed. Ryan (also politely) asked my husband to press the red button to alert the doctor that the doctor in fact needed to get to the room as quickly as possible!
At 8:50 am I continued to feel Baby Boy make his way down, and I felt the urge to push. Ryan told me not to push. It’s physically impossible to “hold in” a push. We waited for the doctor. Ryan and Jonathan had to physically put me on the bed because I couldn’t move from my squatting position.
As my body convulsed into trying to push, I faced another mental game of telling my body to wait. AKA the doctor was not ready yet (face smack).
8:55 am. The doctor entered the room. I almost shrieked with joy because the process of not pushing was far greater than the actual act of pushing.
With an oxygen mask placed on my face, I began pushing at exactly 9:00 am. Jonathan played my labor anthem “You Make Me Brave” by Amanda Cook.
I pushed for what felt like so much longer with this birth than with my first. My first birth was three pushes and out. And this time, Baby Boy didn’t seem to want to pop through. My water had not broken, so thankfully the pushing was not doing too much damage.
9:10 am. Zachary finally pushed through in a semi- “veiled” birth (born in his amniotic sac).
My amniotic sac burst at the final moment Zachary’s head pushed through my opening. Zachary’s hand was right next to his head, making it extremely difficult to push his head and arm out of one hole. He had meconium in the sac. The doctor cut the umbilical cord and whisked him away so nurses could clean him.
I saw my son being born on that very last push. Half his purple body sticking out of me. His umbilical cord wrapped three times around his body. I hadn’t wanted to see Samuel coming out of me. But at the very last moment, I opened my eyes to witness this incredible moment. I watched this tiny human who had been living in me for the past 9 months finally arrive.
Crying, I looked at Jonathan and couldn’t believe we had once again accomplished an epidural-free birth.
His constant encouragement pushing me forward every step of the way was the only way I could make it through each progressing contraction. I felt powerful as I recognized certain labor milestones and actually felt my son move down the birth canal. I knew my son was coming before anyone else. Holding my legs close to my chest in anticipation of pushing, I determined when to push and pushed as my son depended on it. Which he did. And he arrived beautifully.
An epidural-free labor is scary, no doubt.
But the truth? I can’t imagine having a child any other way: the wrestle, the anticipation, the fight for your child’s life. The excitement in the room as everyone is getting ready for this little human to arrive. The room is in constant motion. Nothing is slow or boring about this way of birth. Your mind is in the zone, feeling just how powerful God has made you. Even the contractions pull you along for the ride of your life. And an epidural-free birth is one wild ride. Would I try another epidural-free birth again? Absolutely.
Labor Anthem
I love a good song that helps me in pregnancy and stay in the birth zone as I get ready to push. This song (and my other song “Fierce“) reminds me how amazing God has made me. The following lyrics made this the perfect anthem for my second birth: As Your love, in wave after wave/Crashes over me, crashes over me/For You are for us/You are not against us/Champion of Heaven/You made a way for all to enter into. And that is exactly what He does. His love, through those contractions, washed constantly over me, welcoming my son into this world. We each come from our mother’s womb, and He makes a way for all of us to enter His loving embrace. I am so happy Zachary is here, with us on this side of my belly. And I can’t wait to begin showing him how much God loves him.
*These are just my experiences. I know not everyone even gets an option for natural labor (nor even wants to consider one). All of our bodies are so different (we are fearfully and wonderfully made). No matter how your child is birthed, he is here—safe and healthy. I’m thankful that I was able to experience birth this way. Just as every mother experiences birth through her own lens in her own special way, we all have unique birth stories to share. No birth story is better than your own story, which makes it fun to share birth stories with each other. Thank you for taking the time to read mine!
