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I hope this finds you settled into the rhythm of fall! If you have school-aged children, I hope everyone’s enjoying the routines and familiarity that come with the season. I’m feeling a sense of relief this year. I still have five children at home, ranging in age from 5 to 16, but we’ve consolidated from four schools to just two. To top it off, my 16-year-old is a fully licensed driver, so he can get himself and his sister to high school. That leaves me with only one school stop to make, so this year promises to be a bit smoother!
Today, while you’re enjoying reading The Healing Heartbeat, I’m connecting with some incredible women in Vermont at the Elevate Women’s Expo (https://vtnaturallyyouchildbirth.com/elevate/) . I’m at the DoubleTree Burlington Conference Center at 870 Williston Rd in South Burlington. The Expo is open until 3 PM, so if you’re in the area and want to stop by, come find me!
But what I really want to feature in today’s newsletter is where I’ll be next Friday, a little closer to home. I’ve been asked to sit as a panelist for the community screening of the documentary “Birth Time (https://www.youtube.com/embed/0vXkYqTPvKM?si=F3cypbovzBRItWE8) .” This event is hosted by The WOMB Initiative (https://www.wombinitiative.org/) https://www.wombinitiative.org/event-details/birthtime2025 and is dedicated to sharing stories, building community, and supporting women through every stage of motherhood.
The evening will include a “Photovoice” exhibit, dinner, a screening of the film, and a “Building Your Village” panel discussion. The panel will deepen the audience’s understanding of the current state of maternity care and highlight the challenges and opportunities that affect women and families. We’ll also discuss the roles of different birth workers and how to advocate for better care.
** Event Details
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* Location: White Mountains Community College Bistro, 2020 Riverside Dr, Berlin, NH 03570
* Date and Time: Friday, September 19, 2025, from 4:00 PM to 8:00 PM
* Ticket Price: $20 per person. Pregnant mothers pay only $10 (https://www.wombinitiative.org/event-details/birthtime2025) .
** A Glimpse Into My Story: Birth Stories
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My body has carried and birthed nine children, each one a unique and sacred journey. Some came easily, some challenged me to my core, but all of them taught me something about myself and the deep, enduring love of a mother’s heart. These aren’t just birth stories; they’re chapters of my life, written in moments of joy, pain, and profound connection.
Today’s story is a bit of a long read, I promise newsletters won’t always be this long!
** Christabelle Lee: A Solo Journey
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My firstborn, Christabelle, arrived in a quiet rush. I started feeling contractions one Thursday morning but didn’t get too excited since I’d had false alarms before. But by the afternoon, I knew this was different. I was still at work, feeling fine, and even went to the bank with contractions humming in the background.
On the drive home, however, they got serious. At home, they became so strong I couldn’t even finish a shower. I moved to our secluded yard, where I wanted to give birth. I called my midwife and told her to come in a couple of hours—I was still trying to be independent! But soon, the waves of contractions became overwhelming, and I called her and my husband back, telling them to hurry. The moment my water broke, I started to cry. I was alone and felt so vulnerable. My training as a birth professional flew out the window. All I knew was that I wanted someone there.
When my husband got home, he found me in the bathroom, having already moved back inside. The contractions were so intense, the pain so raw, that I told him not to time them. I tried different positions, but nothing felt right. I remember kneeling, my legs shaking, then trying to squat and getting stuck. Finally, I decided to lie on my back to slow things down, but my husband, bless his heart, wouldn’t let me. We leaned against the bed, and with a powerful push, her head crowned.
My husband, ever practical, asked, “Boy or girl?” I said, “Boy,” and with the next push, my baby girl was born. She was a bit pale at first but quickly pinked up with her cry. The midwife arrived just ten minutes later. Though I wished she’d been there for the pushing, that solitary moment with my husband, the two of us bringing our first child into the world, created a truly special bond.
** Niall Christopher: The Full Moon Boy
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Niall’s birth felt fated from the start. I was hoping for a full moon birth, and the weekend was also a lunar eclipse. That Friday night, I woke up hungry, with gentle contractions. I knew better than to get my hopes up, but after a late-night French toast snack, I finally slept. When I woke up and the contractions had stopped, I was a little disappointed. But they started up again at church. I knew he was coming that day.
My midwife came to check on me, and I was so glad she did. My labors tend to be short and intense. I spent most of the time kneeling over the birth ball, a position that brought me so much comfort.
My contractions got stronger, and I kept waiting for my water to break, fearing the pain it had brought with Christabelle’s birth. I was mentally holding back, afraid of tearing again. I could feel his head moving down, but no pushing urges came. Finally, the midwife told me to try pushing anyway. It was hard, but it unlocked something inside me.
I began to whisper, “I can do this,” over and over, and soon, the urges were so strong I couldn’t stop. With my husband’s support, I sat back against him. The midwife guided me, telling me to breathe through the crowning. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. My body was screaming to push, but I was breathing. The feeling of his head stretching me was so intense, but somehow, I managed not to tear at all. After a quick pause, his shoulders moved, and he was out. I was so relieved that I had listened and breathed.
** Louis Badger: A Night on the Toilet
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Louis’s arrival was a test of patience. The contractions started in the middle of a Thursday night, and I got up for a snack, only to have them die down. My husband and the kids went skiing the next day, but after a pre-birth blessing, I felt guided to stay home. All day, the contractions were erratic—impossible to time.
I busied myself, doing laundry, tidying the house, and preparing, all the while staying in touch with my husband and midwife. As evening came and my family returned home, the contractions finally started to pick up.
We went to bed, but the contractions kept strengthening, though they were still irregular. We finally called the midwife around 10 PM. As she arrived, I felt the first urge to push. The baby was in a posterior position (https://www.spinningbabies.com/pregnancy-birth/baby-position/posterior/) , which made the contractions excruciating.
I couldn’t lie down; the pain was unbearable. I tried everything—sitting on my husband’s lap, hands and knees, standing. Nothing helped until I sat on the toilet. It was a place of refuge.
While I was there, my husband gave me another blessing, and the contractions changed. I could feel the baby’s head finally moving down. I pushed there for a while before moving back to the bedroom. As I knelt by the bed, my water broke with a powerful gush. With the very next push, his head was born, and with a short rest, the rest of him followed. I was so exhausted, all I could do was lay my head on the bed and rest.
** Isabella Rose Elaine: The Great Swelling
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Isabella’s birth was a gentle beginning that became a lesson in trust and surrender. My contractions started on a Tuesday afternoon and were mild and inconsistent, slowing down whenever I rested.
I was in a beautiful, “other-worldly” state of labor, walking and swaying by the fire, feeling the shifts in my body. My contractions stayed gentle for a long time, even after the midwives arrived. But when they finally intensified, I felt pressure and started pushing, certain the baby was coming. When I felt for her head, all I felt was tissue.
The midwife checked and told me I was only 8cm and very swollen. She had me lie on my side to rest and let the swelling go down. The contractions slowed, but they were still strong.
She asked me not to push again until the urge was overwhelming. I was tired and discouraged. The midwife suggested a warm bath to help the last bit of the cervix open. I got in the tub, and as soon as I started to feel not-so-good, I asked to get out. As I stood up, an amazing contraction hit, and my water broke.
With the next wave, her head dropped, and I pushed it halfway out. It felt so big, I thought it wouldn’t fit. My midwife said I needed to be on my hands and knees because the cord was around her neck. I felt paralyzed, unable to move, so my husband physically helped me into position.
With the next push, she was born, with both hands up by her face, which had made her head feel so huge and bruised. She was a beautiful, but dusky color, and cried right away.
** Levi Scott: A Night of Pressure
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Levi’s arrival came after a busy day of haying on the farm. By 9 PM, I was having consistent contractions, but I’d been having them for a month already, so I wasn’t too worried. They usually went away with sleep.
But tonight was different. They kept coming, and I felt the baby shifting, trying to get into the right position. By 12:30 AM, I was up, swaying with the waves. The contractions were regular, about five minutes apart, but not as strong as I expected.
I called the midwife and let her know I was in labor, and then called her again about an hour later when they started to get closer together. She arrived around 2:30 AM, just as I started to feel pushing pressure.
I breathed through the pressure, letting my body work. Soon, I felt cervical pain. I was 9cm with a cervical lip (https://www.baltimorebirth.net/blog/swollen-cervix-during-labor) , and the bag of waters was bulging. I was so exhausted, and the midwife suggested I lie down to let my cervix rest.
Lying down made the contractions hurt more, but it also gave me much-needed rest between them. After a while, the pain was too much.
The midwife suggested breaking my water to relieve the cervical pain, and after trying different positions, I finally agreed. The moment she broke the waters at 5:30 AM, the baby’s head moved right onto my cervix.
Three contractions and seven minutes later, my son was born. He was a big, healthy boy, and I was so relieved to be done with the pain and finally hold him.
** Sebastian Walker: The Sacred Gift
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Sebastian’s birth was an exercise in mindful surrender. It began on a Friday, and my day was completely ordinary until I had a wild thought to make lilac jelly. I spent the afternoon making it, and it was delicious.
Around 4 PM, as I was making supper, I had a strange, strong contraction. It was different from the Braxton-Hicks I’d been having for weeks. I didn’t think much of it, just continued getting dinner on the table. But the contractions kept coming, every 7-10 minutes. I told my husband to be ready for a baby within the next 24 hours.
I went to bed, and the contractions got closer. I was constantly up to use the bathroom, and every time I stood, the contractions came every 2-3 minutes, pulling my cervix open with incredible strength. When I laid back down, they spaced out to a more manageable 4-5 minutes.
The friends I had invited to my birth arrived, and their calm, gentle presence was a godsend. I closed my eyes and focused on their touch, acutely aware of every sensation. I could feel my cervix opening, inch by inch, and felt waves of nausea. When I got to about 9cm, I was exhausted. I wanted to lay down to rest, hoping the contractions would space out a bit.
The first contraction after I lay down was so intense, but then they did become more gentle. My husband took my hands, looked me in the eyes, and reminded me that I was performing a “sacred ordinance.” His words resonated with sparkling clarity, and I felt a surge of strength.
I was able to breathe calmly, resting completely between contractions. My water broke with a gentle contraction, and his head crowned. I had no urge to push, so I intentionally pushed with the next contraction.
I felt the ring of fire (https://kingofprussiadoulas.com/5-tips-to-managing-the-ring-of-fire/) , but his head eased out slowly. With a final push, he was born. My baby was handed to me, and it felt like an eternity before he took a strong first cry. He was a boy, another precious gift.
** John Aspen: A Painful Ending
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John’s story began with a surprise and ended with a profound lesson in empathy. His pregnancy started as twins, but we lost one tovanishing twin syndrome (https://americanpregnancy.org/healthy-pregnancy/multiples/vanishing-twin-syndrome/) . I didn’t know then, but the stress of that loss likely caused my water to break prematurely, a first for me after six births.
I woke up early on a hot June morning to a “pop” sensation and a gush of fluid. My midwife told me to rest and gently encourage contractions. It was a hot day, and I had plenty to keep me busy, but my mind was consumed with worry.
As night came, I finally felt real labor start. Hours passed, and I was so exhausted. During a particularly strong contraction, I nearly collapsed and cried out that I couldn’t do it. My husband and midwife heard the deep exhaustion in my voice.
I felt a moment between life and death, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to let go and surrender into it.
My family surrounded me, calling me back, telling me I wasn’t finished. My midwife had me lay down to rest, and the contractions settled.
Then came another first: my body didn’t know how to push. My fetal ejection reflex (https://www.midwiferytoday.com/mt-articles/birth-and-the-fetus-ejection-reflex/) didn’t kick in, so my midwife had to guide me through pushing.
It felt like forever, and my abdominal muscles were so sore afterward. My youngest son was born in the morning, and while his arrival was a joy, his birth gave me a new empathy for women who have to push from their own will. My recovery was the slowest of all my births.
** Willow and Sage: The Unborn
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The stories of Willow and Sage are woven into the fabric of my life, even though I never held them in my arms.
** Sage
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**
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After Christabelle and Niall were born, I didn’t want any more children. But a new pregnancy came as a surprise. I was excited, but then, during a trip to visit family, I started spotting.
Panic set in. I was a thousand miles from home, covered in a poison ivy rash, and my anxiety was through the roof. I tried to stay calm, but the night before my flight home, the cramping and contractions began.
My sister-in-law became my rock. She held me and supported me through the pain and shaking.
I sat on the toilet and passed a large clot that turned out to be an intact amniotic sac, a perfect little embryo inside.
We buried the baby, whom we named Sage, under a tree. I cried so hard, mourning a life I never got to know.
** Willow
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**
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After Sebastian, I conceived again. I had an intuition it was the spirits of twins, which was confirmed through Body Code work (https://twoheartshealing.info/body-code/) —one a strong girl named Willow and the other a shy boy named Aspen.
My measurements for months tracked for twins, and we even started discussing logistics for a twin birth. But then, during a routine check, I was measuring too small.
At my 20-week ultrasound, there was no sign of Willow. Just one baby, a boy.
My grief for her was deep, and though I went on to birth John Aspen, I never truly took the time to mourn Willow.
It wasn’t until a pregnancy loss circle years later that I finally allowed myself to grieve for both Sage and Willow.
I painted a picture for them, a symbol of closure, and found a space to mourn the loss of the babies I never got to hold and to be grateful for the time I did have with them.
** A Heartfelt Invitation
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As I reflect on these stories, I’m reminded of the profound strength and vulnerability that define motherhood. Each of these births taught me something unique—about patience, surrender, trust, and advocacy. They are a testament to the fact that every birth, no matter how it unfolds, is a sacred journey.
I believe in the power of sharing these experiences, both the joyous and the difficult ones. That’s why I’m so passionate about the upcoming “Birth Time” (https://www.wombinitiative.org/event-details/birthtime2025) documentary screening and panel discussion. It’s a chance for us to come together as a community, share our stories, and learn from one another. We can deepen our understanding of maternity care and find new ways to support women and families on their own unique journeys.
I hope you’ll join me next Friday, September 19, 2025, from 4:00 PM to 8:00 PM (https://www.wombinitiative.org/event-details/birthtime2025) , at the White Mountains Community College Bistro in Berlin, NH. Let’s build a stronger village together.
Purchase your tickets today and be a part of this vital conversation! (https://www.wombinitiative.org/event-details/birthtime2025) I can’t wait to see you there.