False labor started on Saturday, March 22. I really thought that was the day. The contractions felt real and steady. I was mentally preparing to meet my baby boy. But then they stopped. Just like that. I was discouraged. I found myself waking up each morning following wondering, Is today the day? It was a mental battle for sure, trying to stay grounded while living in constant anticipation.
Contractions continued on and off for the rest of the week. I felt super crampy, but they never intensified. Each time they’d start, then fade. Still, I kept preparing and praying. I drank 2 to 3 cups of raspberry leaf and pregnancy tea every day, sat on my birth ball each night, stretched to open my hips, and listened to Christian Hypnobirthing consistently. My husband and I were also attending a birth class weekly leading up to Dash’s arrival. Every Monday night, I’d think—one day, this hospital drive will be for real.
At my 39-week checkup on March 27, two days before my due date, I debated whether to get cervical checks. I didn’t want to be disappointed if I wasn’t as far along. But I went for it and found out I was 2.5 cm dilated and 70% effaced. I was relieved. Perhaps Okra water helped the effacement. Progress. I felt hopeful that I could avoid induction or unnecessary interventions.
On the drive home, I was on the phone with my sisters. One of them said, “Oh dang, you’re 2.5? That means he could come as early as tomorrow!” I laughed. “Yeah, maybe—but I could also stay 2.5 for days. Who knows?”
Funny looking back, because that same night, labor began, and Dash was born exactly two days later.
Even crazier: he came on his actual due date. Only 5% of women give birth on their due date, and somehow, I’m in that 5%. It’s worth noting that I stayed active, getting my steps in daily and continuing to lift weights throughout my second and third trimester (I was too nauseous and tired during my first). I’m not sure if that has anything to do with it.
That day, I was tired but still made burgers for dinner. Later, my husband and I went out for ice cream. As we walked to the car I said, “This might be our last outing before labor.” I even caught that moment on video. We talked about our lives and the season we were about to step into – parenthood. When we got home and ate our ice cream, I noticed I was still crampy. Something felt different, but I kept it to myself. It was around 7 p.m.
By 1 a.m., the cramps had turned into what felt like intense period pain. I remembered the advice: rest while you can in early labor. So, I tried to sleep.
In the morning, my husband called work to let them know this could be the day. I hoped to be in active labor by the afternoon and holding our baby by evening—lol, if only it worked like that. I ate breakfast, bounced on my birth ball, and tried to stay relaxed. By lunch, I couldn’t eat anymore
Around 4:30 p.m., I lost my mucus plug and texted my doula. She suggested we consider heading in, and I agreed. The contractions were stronger now. I knew it wasn’t the peak yet, but it felt like a shift.
We went to the hospital. I was still texting with my siblings on Snapchat and group chats, so part of me knew I wasn’t super far along. When the nurses asked me to rate my pain, I said, “6 out of 10.” They looked surprised—I wasn’t hunched over or bracing. Then they checked me, and I was still 2.5 cm. I was crushed. It felt like I’d made so much more progress.
That’s when my mind started to spiral. If this is a 6, how bad is a 10? But my husband stepped in and gently grounded me. He reminded me we were progressing, and we’d likely be back soon.
We stayed another hour, hoping I’d progress enough to be admitted. I made it clear I wanted a natural birth with no interventions since they were already offering Pitocin. But after an hour, I was still at 2.5 cm, so we went home.
I had a little breakdown in the car—disappointed and frustrated. But things escalated quickly. Between 8 and 10 p.m., contractions were every few minutes, lasting over a minute each. I couldn’t eat or talk through them. By 11 p.m., we were back in the car.
I had always hoped for minimal interventions. I wanted to avoid the cascade that often happens when one thing leads to another. Taking the She Births Bravely course helped me solidify that intention and gave me the confidence to advocate for myself. That’s one of the reasons I labored at home for so long - over 20 hours from the time we got ice cream to when we finally checked in.
Once we got there, I was barely able to speak through the surges. I had a feeling I was in active labor. I was at 3.5cm so they began prepping a room and I clearly voiced what I needed - the tub.
I was giving birth at a birth center inside a hospital, a beautiful balance of support and autonomy. They honored everything that mattered to me - golden hour, delayed cord clamping and freedom of movement.
Even at this point, I genuinely don’t know how women get through labor without counter pressure. I was beyond grateful for my husband’s hands. Shortly after I had reached 5.5cm, I was admitted around 2 a.m.
I stayed in the shower while they prepped the tub. That’s when I got into my zone. Breathing, swaying, listening to my Christian Hypnobirthing track on repeat. It felt surreal, like labor was truly happening in another dimension.
I labored outside the tub for a little, and my doula brought a massage gun that was truly God-sent. The counter pressure on my back was relieving. Despite the intensity, I felt capable in between contractions.
When the tub was ready, I stepped in and felt instant peace. It’s where my water broke. My husband said I was the calmest I’d been the whole time. I stayed there, opening my hips, listening to God’s word, praying, breathing. It was physical and spiritual all at once.
Eventually, I verbalized the shift in pressure and suddenly the nurses jumped into action. They knew it was almost time.
I was out of the tub at this point. Then came that moment of doubt. I kept saying, “I can’t do this.” I even turned around and tried running, like I was about to leave the room. Honestly, it’s funny looking back—because that’s textbook transition: when everything in you wants to run from the very thing only you can do.
I was desperate for relief. To be honest, I didn’t think I could endure any longer—my mind was spiraling. Then one nurse gently stopped me and said, “Honey, you’re already doing it. You’re at 9.5.”
The room shifted. People moved quickly. I was so relieved, I just remember having chills during that moment, God’s presence was surely felt.
I kept asking if they saw his head because it really felt like he was fully engaged and almost out for what felt like forever. My husband said I seemed the most focused at this point and kept saying I “ran that room.”
Normally, I’m an agreeable person - kind, polite, polished. But in those final moments, all of that shattered. Transition stripped me down to something primal and powerful. I wasn’t asking nicely or second guessing; I was commanding the space.
Throughout the entire labor, I knew exactly when I needed counter pressure and how to direct my strength. After just a few pushes, less than 20 minutes, Dash was born at 5:19 a.m. on March 29.
My world. I still can’t believe he’s almost three months old now.
When I was pregnant, I appreciated reading positive birth stories. There’s always negativity surrounding motherhood and pregnancy, it seems. I praise the Lord my top birth prayers happened but just know that it wasn’t perfect. There were moments of doubt but also praise.
Every woman’s experience is extremely unique, as purposed. I hope this encourages you to surrender your experience to the Lord and prepare in the ways that feel right: physically, spiritually, and mentally.
» If you’re preparing for birth and want to feel confident and equipped, I personally recommend the She Births Bravely course. It made a big difference in how I approached labor and advocated for the experience I wanted.
Prayers to you, as the Lord authors each of our stories.
Destine xx