The Power of Knowing: My Redemptive Birth Story

As I write this, I want to focus on the labor and birth of my two youngest children. I will briefly touch on the birth of my third child, Willow—not because I want to dwell on trauma, but because it shaped everything that came after. I don’t believe fear is helpful in pregnancy, and my heart is never to instill it in others. What I do believe is helpful is this: understanding that birth is your story. It’s our story. And ultimately, it is God’s story, written with great care. He gave it to us. He equipped us. I’m so grateful for medical intervention when it’s truly necessary, but it breaks my heart to see how often it is misused, misrepresented, and misunderstood.

Let me start by saying. everything that left me scarred from Willow’s birth stemmed from my own lack of education. And that lack of knowledge left the door wide open for fear to creep in. Willow was born in June of 2020, right in the middle of lockdown. In-person childbirth education was canceled, and truthfully, even if it had been available, I likely would’ve chosen a class that didn’t fully prepare me in the ways I now know are most important. I didn’t really know how to educate myself on birth, and I defintley didn’t realize education was necessary on more than just the basics. I didn’t even realize there was anything beyond the “basics”….

But I believe the Lord works in quiet, strategic ways. I believe He gives certain people specific experiences, knowing that one day they’ll stand up, speak out, and become the change so desperately needed in this broken world.

At 40 weeks and 6 days, I was induced because I was terrified to go past 41 weeks. My doctor told me the risk of stillbirth “doubles” at that point. I heard “50% increase” and thought it was too dangerous. What I didn’t realize is that the actual risk at 41 weeks is around 17 in 10,000. But fear doesn’t leave much room for logic. I wanted to be induced before 41 weeks just to avoid that risk, not understanding that inductions can fail… and they can take days for some people.

I went in for my induction early on the morning of June 22. They had to ripen my cervix, I had a Foley balloon, AROM (breaking my water), and Pitocin. I ended up with almost everything I didn’t want because I never asked questions. I just nodded. I trusted that my doctor knew best, and I didn’t realize that I had options—that I could say no or ask for more information. I eventually got the epidural I didn’t want, which resulted in significant side effects for me.

There was no true informed consent. It was simply, “We’re going to do this,” or “We need to try that.” I didn’t know better. And that lack of knowledge stole something from me. Postpartum was incredibly hard. So hard, in fact, that we weren’t sure we’d try for another baby.

But that didn’t sit right with me. I had always dreamed of a big family. Seven kids, to be exact—and I wasn’t ready to let that dream go…. For the next two and a half years, I studied, I prayed, I talked (a lot) with my husband about what we needed to do differently. I knew that in order to have a peaceful, joyful fourth trimester, I had to feel empowered going into birth. I needed real childbirth education with information that helped me feel confident and capable. And I also needed to give myself permission to ease back into work. Our culture expects moms to bounce back at 6 weeks, 12 weeks, even 6 months, and I’ve learned: we weren’t created for that. It’s difficult for a reason.

When I became pregnant again, I poured into learning. I realized how much I still didn’t know, and it humbled me. I will probably be learning for the rest of my life—and honestly, I love that. Later in pregnancy, my husband and I decided to hire a doula. My husband was not yet open to a home birth, so we knew we would be at the nearest hospital. I wanted more than the usual “healthy mom, healthy baby” outcome. I wanted an unmedicated, empowering birth that I could walk away from with peace in my heart.

From early on, our son, Bowden, was measuring “big.” The idea of inducing me came up around 20 weeks. In hindsight, maybe I should’ve changed providers. But I had a long history with my OB and didn’t feel peace about switching. I made it clear I wouldn’t schedule an induction until I hit 42 weeks, not a day earlier.

At my 41-week appointment, I agreed to a cervical check but declined a membrane sweep. I was discouraged to hear I wasn’t dilated at all. My OB recommended a BPP (biophysical profile) and a growth scan. Before I left, he reminded me again that I should come in for an induction because the baby “might be too big to deliver vaginally.” I calmly declined but agreed to schedule an induction on my terms, which meant at exactly 42 weeks, and not a moment before. I asked for an afternoon time so I could pick up my daughter from her homeschool co-op, and initially, he said they wouldn’t do an afternoon induction. But when I said I wasn’t scheduling one then, suddenly an afternoon slot was an option.

Before I left the office, he told me, “I’ll see you at your induction. You’re not having this baby before then.”

That afternoon, I scheduled the ultrasound. My husband Jordon met me there, and we held hands during the scan. I started squeezing his hand tightly. For seven weeks I’d had prodromal labor—contractions every four minutes around the clock—but this felt different. Stronger. Not just annoying anymore, but powerful. I didn’t say much at first because I’d had so many false alarms. But as the afternoon went on, I told Jordon we might need to coorindate childcare for our older girls, Ava and Willow. He was skeptical, understandably so. I was certain.

While we were coordinating everything, I got a message from my OB with the scan results: Bowden looked healthy but was estimated at 10 pounds, 4.8 ounces. My doctor urged me to come in immediately for an induction or an elective c-section. I laughed and closed the message. I knew I was already in labor. I believed my baby was anywhere between 8 and 12 pounds, because I knew growth scans can be off by a lot. Whatever the number, I trusted that the Lord had equipped me to birth him.

I labored at home as long as I could. But since I had never gone into labor naturally before, I didn’t fully trust my instincts. I’d convinced myself that my labor would be short and intense because I had stayed active my whole pregnancy—working construction until eight months, seeing the chiropractor weekly, preparing my body. I didn’t want to risk not making it to the hospital. My contractions were strong and close together, so after talking to my doula, we headed in.

At triage, I was embarrassed to learn I was only 3 cm. Still, they offered me a room, and I accepted, still convinced I would have a baby in just a few hours. I had the most supportive nurse who honored all my preferences. I was able to walk the halls, with Jordon doing hip squeezes during contractions. We swayed together and that was comforting, but my favorite place was on my knees in the shower, leaning over a chair while he ran hot water over my back.

I started throwing up early in labor and couldn’t stop. I hadn’t learned much about nausea relief naturally, but I asked for medication. That part is important to me because it was my decision. Not pressured. Not pushed.

When my doula arrived, she was everything I needed her to be. Her encouragement paired with my husbands, her calm prescence, it made a difference. About 5-6 hours after Elisabeth arrived, I agreed that they could break my water, which was an adjustment to my birth plan/goals. I had previously said to ask again in a while, but after a while knew it was what I wanted at that point in time. Even when I experienced fetal ejection reflex (FER) for two and a half hours before I was fully dilated, I never thought I couldn’t do it. It was hard. It was intense. But it was beautiful and it was mine. Having my amazing husband and fantastic doula by my side, encouraging me, empowering me, and allowing the vulnerability I was sharing was everything I dreamt of.

I pushed for 27 minutes and birthed a beautiful 10-pound baby boy about 20 hours after I knew labor had started. He had the chunkiest cheeks, a full head of hair, and the sweetest cry.

I did it.

Looking back it makes me giggle that I was one of very few people that the ultrasound was actually very close for…. If I was ever in the exact same position again, I still wouldn’t count on it to be true. Nonetheless, my 10 pound baby boy was delivered vaginally and unmedicated, as I had dreamt of. On top of that, it was a much better labor and delivery than my 3rd child. I did not tear. I felt so good.

Walking into my fourth trimester, I was so happy. I had a couple of brief moments of baby blues, but never struggled with any postpartum mood disorders like I had previously. I physically felt so good after 5 days in bed, 5 days on the bed, and 5 days around the bed. This was my dream. I worked so hard for this.

I had educated myself and I vowed to continue educating myself for the rest of my days, and I am so blessed that the Lord has called me to now educate others as well. My goal is for mothers to walk away empowered. I believe when you are empowered, you expeiernce birth in a whole different way, which then carries into your postpartum period.

It was such a blessing to experience this. It made me eager for my next pregnancy, birth, and postpartum journey. I love walking alongside moms and helping them achieve their goals so they can walk away with an empowered mindset as well. Birth is so sacred and so unique for each person.

Please reach out if you want to chat.

Blessings to you,

Ciara King | Kingdom Beginnings Birth Services

kingdombeginningsbirth@gmail.com

Photo credit: Melissa Rose Photography