With my first baby, I had an epidural in the hospital. I was completely numb, and I felt helpless. I didn't know what I didn't know. I had no idea what labor really feels like, so I just assumed it was supposed to be scary and a little insane.
My second birth, at home in my own bed, was a completely different story. I'd spent about four months practicing my hypnobirthing breathing, so I knew what was coming, and I wasn't scared. I got a real break between every contraction, a moment to breathe and rest, like I'd done it a hundred times already. My midwife always told me to get comfortable with the contractions on my own first, and call after that. It all felt so calm and manageable that I didn't think I was in real labor yet. I'd practiced it over and over again, and I felt so in control that I told my husband I was totally fine without the midwives. Which is crazy, I know.
Then the pushing sensation came, and I realized: oh, this is it. Luckily, my midwife knew better. She'd pushed back: "Nope, I'm coming over now." She walked in around 8:30, right as I started pushing and the contractions got really strong, and about an hour later my second child was born. I remember thinking, wow, this is really cool. My body was made for this. I just had to let it.
And then she was here. Pure joy. 🪺
