A Natural, Unmedicated Success: Sonora's Birth Story

4:39 PM Wednesday, March 16.

I’m laying in bed browsing TikTok and pouting. I really thought I’d have had my baby by now. The doctors all thought I would deliver early, and hell, here I am two days from her due date and still fucking pregnant.

Lemme rewind and catch you up real quick. 

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When I was 16 weeks pregnant I went pee–like any regular human does–but when I wiped, something was hanging out of me. I panicked, grabbed the mirror from under the sink, and inspected the situation. There, hanging out at the entrance of my vagina was what looked like a cervix. I was terrified. Hours later, after some serious ugly crying and an ER visit, it was confirmed I had a third-degree cervical prolapse. They placed a pessary (a donut-shaped device shoved up there in an effort to keep the goods inside) and I was to be on pelvic rest for the remainder of my pregnancy. No lifting anything over 20 lbs, no running, no squatting, no coughing, no sex.

The goal was to keep the baby inside for as long as possible. What should have been an exciting and celebratory time was laced with fear, and we kept the news of our pregnancy quiet from the outside world until we felt ready––after 21 weeks. We didn’t know how to share such good, happy news when we were so anxious and uncertain. Each week was a milestone.

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So I’m pouting. Because when they took the pessary out after a weird early-labor scare at 35 weeks, the doctors and my doulas wanted me to be prepared to go into labor at any time and very quickly because my cervix was already labor-soft.

Four long-ass weeks later, I hear and feel something pop in my pelvis. I said a casual “what the fuck” out loud, and then made a dash for the toilet. My water had broken.

I called Brandon, who had conveniently rode his bike to the office to record a podcast episode, blurted out that my water just broke, and suggested that maybe he get a ride home.

I then called my doula, Jessica, who recommended I take a hot shower, put on my Depends, and keep her posted.

7:30 PM Wednesday, March 16.

This is where it all starts to get a little fuzzy. The contractions had begun, and we were doing our best to ignore them for as long as possible. We ate an early dinner, watched that new Turning Red panda movie on Disney+, sat on the bouncy ball in the shower, and finally decided to try and get some sleep.

^^All while the contractions were gradually intensifying. I could barely watch the movie, the shower didn’t help, and we didn’t have a bathtub. The tens unit didn’t do anything for me, either, and there was zero sleeping to be had.

Brandon didn’t have much trouble tracking my contractions because I was pretty vocal about them. It was Moan City–I swear our pets thought I was passing away or calling in some ancient spirits.

2:00 AM Thursday, March 17.

My body felt like it was already pushing the baby out. The contractions were intense, yet still a little inconsistent, so it was hard to tell when it was time to leave.

Brandon sent Jessica, the doula, a video of one of my contractions, gave her the tracking and timing details, and we were instructed to meet her at the birthing center.

The car contractions were shitty. I had four in the 15 minutes it took us to get there, and then a few more in the parking lot before making it inside.

I’m gonna be real with you, I was screaming at this point. And in the middle of Corporate Woods.

We got inside where my OB performed a cervical check and informed me I was only dilated at a 1 or a 2.

I felt the blood drain out of my face.

…What?

I knew it was a possibility, but damn, I was devastated. They wouldn’t admit me to a room, and said I could either go back home or hang out and walk the halls until they could do another cervical check and I was farther along. Not willing to get back in the car, I labored around the birthing center for what felt like an eternity.

4 or 5 AM Thursday, March 17.

I’d been moaning around the halls of the birthing center long enough that my OB was ready to check me again. Desperate to not be spread-eagle on the table during a contraction, we did the world’s fastest check and determined I was dilated to a 4 or a 5.

Sweet success. I got into a room and the on-call midwife began filling the birthing tub with warm water.

I labored in the tub for what felt like forever. Brandon put on the spiritual birth playlist I had created early in the third trimester and pulled up a seat right next to the tub. The warm water felt nice, but no position was comfortable. I spent most of my time in the tub on all fours begging the baby to come out already.

Like I said, things are a little fuzzy at this point looking back. During the contractions, I couldn’t think of anything but the intensity. I basically blacked out. In between–which was never very long–I only had the time and energy to mutter one-word sentences like “water” or “tea.” (Jessica had made me a cup of throat coat tea because of all the guttural screaming.)

Brandon says I was funny and singing in between contractions and everyone enjoyed me but one of the only things I remember saying was “shit that’s fresh” when I took a sip of tea. The rest is a blur.

I was allowed to have any food I wanted, but only ever had time for Brandon to feed me slurps of an applesauce pouch in between contractions.

The nurses would periodically come in and take my temperature or check the baby’s heart rate but for the most part, Brandon and I were left alone in our room. Looking back, I’m grateful that I wasn’t hooked up to any monitors or stuck with any needles.

Things started to feel real AF when I put my hand down to see if I could feel her head at all and got a handful of hair. I remember feeling amazed and saying to Brandon, “I think she has hair!”

Oh yeah, and somewhere in there during a contraction I pooped in the tub and Brandon got to fish it out with a little net. Isn’t he just the best?

7:53 AM Thursday, March 17.

I can feel her head stretching the shit out of me at this point. I’ve been pushing for a little while in the water, blood and fluid floating all around.

A nurse comes in and whispers something the doula, who replies “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

I was then notified that they didn’t have a second midwife on staff until 8am so I would have to get out of the tub. Another nurse asked, “What if the midwife is early?”

To which the first replied “What if she’s not?”

What felt like 10 people came into the room to help me climb out of the tub while crowning. (Literally the worst fucking timing.) Multiple towels dried off my limbs and body as I climbed onto the king-sized bed. I had a contraction so quickly that I stayed on all fours to push for a while.

I could barely hold myself up, I was so tired. I tried switching positions to a side-lying position with Brandon holding my leg but I had next to no energy or power in that position. After a few contractions, back to all fours I went.

At some point near the end I remember hearing a song playing that I didn’t recognize. I muttered, “This song isn’t on the playlist” and made Brandon go start it over. A few contractions later I asked “Where’s the music?” because the room was silent. His phone had died. (Apparently the music was the only thing distracting me.)

I was so tired.

After a few more contractions (and screams), my doula said in my ear “You’re expending a lot of energy out the top end. See if you can channel it down, it’s time to get this baby out.” I heard her loud and clear. I remember replying “Yes. Okay. I can do this.”

8:27 AM Thursday, March 17.

I’ll never forget the ring of fire. I could feel her head stretching to its widest point, and I heard Brandon saying “Her head is almost out babe you can do it.”

I felt the pain lessen and I knew her head had come out. Completely exhausted, refusing to go through another contraction, and knowing the hardest part was over, I pushed with everything I had.

Everything moved so quickly after that.

The baby came into the world screaming. In the video, you can see the OB unwrap the umbilical cord from around her neck and hand her up through my legs and into my arms, but I had no idea about that at the time.

Everyone helped me lay down and skin-to-skin snuggle with her. I was in an exhausted state of shock.

Sweet Sonora was born.

Some time after that, Thursday, March 17.

As we were trying to get the baby to nurse, the OB said “How would you like to no longer be pregnant?” She was referring to my placenta, which hadn’t come out on its own yet. They tried everything - fundal massage (which is NOT a massage), peeing, pushing, and nursing. It wasn’t coming out. We were coming up on an hour, and they were starting to get a little more insistent on getting it out so they could prevent bleeding and cut the cord.

Finally, after some miserable pushing (which I thought I was done doing), fundal abuse, and Sonora latching, my placenta came out and labor was over.

Brandon and I laid there with her––exhausted, starving, and in awe. After having my first-degree tear sutured, we FaceTimed our families, had our stats monitored, and took a little nap. Then the birth center made us a gluten-free berry crisp, sang happy birthday to me, and we were all home and resting by 3 pm.

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Brandon says he can only describe Sonora’s birth with one word: Savage. 

And he’s totally right.

In the most intense moments, I remember briefly wishing I had gone somewhere that administered pain medication, but looking back, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Sonora’s pregnancy and birth were the absolute most difficult physical and spiritual experiences I had ever been through.

And yet, the most rewarding.

Doula: Jessica Sexton from hOMe Holistic
Birthing Center: New Birth Company