Third baby Home birth
Story of Calvin’s beautiful home birth- written by Crystal (doula and founder of Greatest Joy Motherhood)
Every Birth Story Starts with the End of Pregnancy
What a different time it is! You go about your life in a state of discomfort, trying to stay busy enough while knowing that any day could be the day. It’s such an interesting exercise in letting go—of control, of plans—and instead learning to trust in God, nature, your body, and your baby.
As with my other pregnancies, I had mixed feelings in the days and weeks leading up. I struggled with impatience, round ligament pain, and general bigness—but I also felt so much peace and tenderness.
I often reminded myself that this was a short time in the grand scheme of things, even when it felt like an eternity.
“Thine adversity and afflictions shall be but a small moment—if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high.”
The Build-Up
One of the more trying parts was prodromal labor. I was up for about three hours Saturday night into Sunday with mild contractions that continued throughout the day. I knew it wasn’t active labor yet but couldn’t tell whether it would progress.
Sunday night, Joseph gave me a priesthood blessing. In it, I was promised a good night’s sleep and strength for the labor to come.
I slept deeply for nine hours.
But Monday morning—my due date—I wasn’t contracting at all. I felt a bit discouraged but decided to do all the labor-inducing things. I did the Miles Circuit, walked the BYU duck pond, went up and down stairs sideways, and hiked to the Cougareat and back. That afternoon, I had Joseph do acupressure points and ate a bunch of fresh pineapple.
Around 6:30 p.m., I was bouncing and doing hip circles on the birth ball when I had a real contraction. I didn’t want to be too jumpy, so I stayed quiet—until a few minutes later when I had another one. Joseph noticed. I teared up and told him: I had a real contraction. I felt pretty sure this was actually, finally labor.
Early Active Labor
Sure enough, the contractions kept coming. Vivian (my nearly 2 year old daughter) was being so sweet with her baby doll, and I started to get excited about her getting a real baby. William bounced on my knee as I was on the ball, and I just felt overwhelmed with gratitude for my children and the chance to welcome another into our family.
After we put them to bed, I texted my midwife. My last labor was fast, so I was trying to be more proactive. She was nearby and offered to stop in. She helped us set up the birth tub and organize supplies. I asked to be checked, guessing I was about 4 cm—and I was: 4 cm, 70% effaced, 0 station.
She headed home to rest, and we got a few more things ready and updated my mom, sisters, and the rest of the birth team. Joseph fell asleep quickly. I had more trouble- obvioulsy. I listened to hypnobirthing tracks and focused on deep breathing. Eventually, I fell asleep around midnight, repeating to myself:
“Labor is not going away, but you can sleep.”
“Just see around 4 a.m.”
4:30 a.m.
I woke up to a strong contraction, hip pain, and shaking. Even as a doula, there’s still no way to know how much longer you have. My previous labors had been 8 and 6 hours, so I had Joseph call Melody and Bethany. By the time they arrived, I felt much better, but I’m still glad I called when I did.
Timing contractions has always felt a bit useless to me—especially when you have better indicators. But Joseph wanted to time for a while: they were about three minutes apart and lasting 30–45 seconds. But I think the spacing seemed to slow a bit once people arrived.
At 5:15 a.m., Melody checked me: 6 cm, 90% effaced. I labored with Joseph, Bethany, and Melody there. We chatted, laughed a lot and they did counter-pressure and rebozo techniques. I alternated between the birth ball, stool, standing, swaying, and kneeling.
The breaks between contractions made it very possible to recuperate. Faster labor is not necessarily better. With support—Bethany or Joseph doing comfort measures—contractions were very manageable. Alone (like on the toilet or if I didn’t tell them), they were more intense, but still manageable with breath.
7:05 a.m.
I asked to be checked again: 8 cm. I was glad, but quite surprised—transition hadn’t felt particularly intense so far.
Around 7:45 a.m., Melody suggested getting in the tub. I hesitated, not wanting contractions to slow down, but I got in soon after—and it felt amazing. For a while, I didn’t need any extra support at all.
I complained that it couldn’t possibly be close to the end because it was still too manageable. We laughed and Bethany reminded me that water is nature’s epidural. I asked Melody if people really do have practically pain-free births. She said yes—though from her expression (and my own experiences), we both knew there would be plenty of intensity. .
“Is it painful enough?” became a running joke.
Being in the bath was peaceful. Melody and Bethany stepped out to eat breakfast. Joseph and I talked, and I felt a wave of emotional heaviness. I couldn’t name exactly why—but I needed to feel sad. Joseph, as always, was kind and steady.
At 8:40 a.m., William came in, sat on the bed, and gave me hugs. He was quiet but clearly excited. He knew exactly what was going on. I found out later Vivian had peeked in a few times too. My mom, Amber, and Lindsey read with them and helped get them ready.
8:50 a.m. – I was 9 cm.
Time passed that is now mostly a blur—supportive words, laughter, counter-pressure. I joked I’d pretend to be in more pain so things would move faster. “Where the mind leads, the body follow” right?
Melody checked again: fully dilated except for an anterior cervical lip. Baby was quite low. She offered to break my water, teasing that I wanted things to be more painful, right? She also gently reminded me that it could speed things along. I waited about 20 minutes, then agreed.
9:23 a.m. – Water broken.
The intensity increased, just as Melody had promised. I started gently down-breathing and occasionally felt the urge to push.
Around 9:45, it was clear to everyone (except me) that the baby was close. My mom, sisters, and kids came in quietly. The kids were great—excited and happy to be there.
9:51 a.m. – The anterior lip was still slightly there, but baby was right there at +3. I reached in and felt his head. It was encouraging.
I felt him moving down, and with each sensation, I would say out loud:
“This is the way.”
“I can do this. I really can do this.”
Melody said, “This is it,” and encouraged me to push. I was shocked and cried out, “I need another break!”
The pressure was fierce- compounded by the tension I held in my body. I yelped once and groaned loudly.
But I gathered myself, breathed deeply, relaxed my body—and felt his head begin to crown. It was still intense, but somewhat relieving. Melody coached me to go slow and make “wa” sounds, letting him bounce to stretch the skin. I felt a brief sting but followed her guidance and slow down.
10:00 a.m. – His head was born.
Melody checked for a cord—it was there, but she unlooped it quickly. She told me to push again. The contraction was ending, and I wasn’t sure I had more in me. She told me to stand. With help, I stood, and his shoulders rotated and slid out.
I inhaled sharply as the intensity gave way to stillness.
10:01 a.m. – Joseph helped catch him and passed him to me.
I paused with eyes closed, took another deep breath, then looked—
A BOY!
I was shocked and everyone laughed at my expression. We’d thought the whole pregnancy it was a girl. But, I was so happy. I had done it. I had him in my arms.
I sat in the water for a moment, then stood after a gush of blood. On the birth stool briefly, then into bed to wait for the placenta.
William and Vivian climbed into bed and met their baby brother. We all just stared at him in awe. "My sisters’ eyes glistened with tears, moved by the miracle before them.. I held him close, soaking in the uninterrupted skin-to-skin. He cried loudly, disconcerted by the world. He latched fairly quickly, strong and eager.
Of course, I was weak and a little out of it. But, so joyful and in love and truly—
“A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come:
but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish,
for joy that a man is born into the world.” – John 16:21
The joy is so deep, so real, that even a few days later it was hard to remember the discomfort. I mean, I remembered… but it was so completely replaced with the joy of having Calvin here.
