It seems crazy to me still, to be able to say that I had a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). After three c-sections I had really thought it was impossible. I’m incredibly thankful for what God has made possible for my family, and I hope my story might inspire someone else to believe that a natural birth actually is possible.
I’ve shared more in depth about my c-sections (see my post What I’ve learned after 3 c-sections), but for a brief background: My labor with my firstborn was slow (very typical for a first labor) and I was told I needed a c-section for “failure to progress” at 4 cm dilated. With my second I was scared to try for a VBAC and opted for a scheduled repeat c-section; with my third I knew I wanted a VBAC and thought I had a supportive provider until they pulled a “bait-and-switch”, and I had another scheduled c-section.
I had my tubes tied with that third c-section, and my husband, Justin, and I regretted it the day we returned home from the hospital. We were blessed to be able to have it reversed two years later. I dealt with some sort of infertility for a while, not sure the cause. I worried that the reversal hadn’t been successful but trusted that God would make me able to conceive if it was His will. I took chaste berry and tracked my cycle and asked friends and our church to pray for us, and finally conceived after 11 months of trying.
This time I knew beyond a doubt, even before we conceived, that I would try for a VBAC. It wasn’t just a vague wish, but something I would work for. I had started reading and researching before I’d even had the reversal, I had found the VBAC link podcast and listened to stories, followed social media accounts about natural birth, I’d read a few books that had info about the medicalization of birth and learned for the first time the concept of physiological birth. I also learned that I have actual rights including informed consent and that I didn’t have to take doctor’s or anyone’s suggestions as my own decisions.
As I’d researched and learned, I knew that if I were ever to be pregnant again, I deeply longed to have a homebirth. It seemed so right, so comfortable and natural and normal.
But when I was finally, actually pregnant, homebirth felt a little scary. I knew now that the risk of rupture wasn’t what people and doctors made it out to be, but there was still that chance… and we live an hour from a hospital, so it made Justin and I both hesitant. I talked to some midwives anyway, just to open options, but learned that in New Mexico where we live, midwives aren’t legally allowed to do home births after multiple c-sections. So that option was closed. I decided I’d just have to be really ready to stand up for myself in the hospital and know my rights and my facts and not let anyone tell me I had to have a c-section. But my OB told me they would definitely not let me and he didn’t think anyone anywhere would let me. I still could’ve been firm and stood my ground, but it just felt like a battle wouldn’t win.
I decided one last time to look into homebirth options and God led me to find a midwife in El Paso, TX, two hours away from us, who has a ton of experience with birth in general and particularly with VBAC. After we met I couldn’t believe she was willing to take me on as a client- a big part of me had come to believe that this was impossible for me.
Since we couldn’t do a midwife-assisted home birth in NM still, we planned to get an airbnb in El Paso (different laws in Texas) when it came time to birth. This way we would also be near a hospital that had 24/7 staffing in case we were to need it.
I’m a big “nester”, and its funny how much this played into my labor, because I had a list of things that needed to get finished with the animals and house and Christmas preparations the week before she was born, and when people would say “any day now, huh?” (as they do), I would say that I just needed to make it to Saturday because Justin was off and we were going to finish the list. So Saturday came and we checked things off and went to bed, and then at midnight I woke up with contractions!
Midnight was probably the worst time for labor to begin as far as the Airbnb plan went because places typically allow check-in around 3:00 or 4:00 in the afternoon.
I made sure it was real labor- I got up and took a shower, read on the couch for a while, I downloaded a contraction timer app (afterwards I thought it was kind of silly that I had paid $2.00 for one rather than just choosing a free one, but in the moment for some reason it made sense to me), made some sourdough pizza dough, and contractions kept coming; so I woke Justin up and told him I thought this was it. We called Lynn, the midwife, then spent what ended up being a couple hours tidying things up and getting ready to leave the house and animals (we had to put our milking goat and her companion in a separate pen, so Justin and the big kids caught them and filled a feeder with a bunch of hay while hugely pregnant me loaded sleeping Perry in the back seat of our SUV.) Finally we were on our way to El Paso, well before the sun came up.
The contractions were manageable, and we ended up getting breakfast and going to a park while we tried to find an Airbnb. Our back up plan was a hotel, because we’d be able to check in anytime, but that wasn’t preferable, and contractions were still far apart, so we figured we had time.
We messaged several Airbnb hosts in the area, asking if they could accommodate an early morning check in, and one after another told us they could only check us in at 3 or 4 in the afternoon. We prayed every few minutes that God would send us to the place He had for us, knowing that He already knew where this baby would be born. With Christmas a week away and on my mind, I kept thinking of another couple searching for a place to have a Baby long ago…
Finally one of the hosts said they could have their house ready by 11:00, so that was our place!
I labored walking around the sunny backyard and got settled in. I laid down to rest for a little while. Even though being in labor was so hard,I was thankful to be in a home with my family around me. All morning the contractions had been between 7-14 minutes apart and strong but I could focus and breathe through. They took concentration to get through and were intense and uncomfortable but I was staying very positive and excited and had an “I can do this” mindset. They grew closer and stronger after a couple hours at our Airbnb, and I told my doula, friend, sister, sister-in-law and midwife to come. They seemed to get closer quite suddenly and I worried people might not make it, my doula being an hour away and my friend and sisters two hours away. But, little did I know, everyone still had plenty of time.
I had been using my doula’s tens machine, which she said none of her other clients seemed to like but I found to be very helpful. It gave something to focus on during a contraction. She started doing hip squeezes and suggesting different positions right away when she got there which was super helpful, but more helpful than that was just having people with me.
I felt like I needed so much support when in active labor. I can be easily overwhelmed by a lot of people/socialization, so I wasn’t sure how I’d be while laboring. I thought I might want to be alone a lot, but I didn’t at all, I just wanted to be supported in every way- held, touched, a hand to hold or squeeze, someone to talk to me, someone to pray over me. I was also very bossy. I just told everyone what to do- “Back squeeze now please.” “Babe, hand!” “Tell me to release.” “Cover me up.” “No blanket, no blanket!” I asked my sister-in-law to change because she smelled like perfume.
Between contractions I was able to chat and laugh. My kids would come in occasionally and “check on” me. As the day turned to night, Perry, my three year old, was in the bedroom with us a lot, seemingly unfazed by the groans and growls I made every few minutes. My older two were out in the living room with my sister, Heather, sister-in-law, Darleen, and friend, Sarah. Perry would often go out with them too. Sarah said afterwards that Leo, my oldest, was very brave and level-headed through it all. They would all hear me have an intense contraction and Leo would say something like “we’re making progress”. I had talked to them a lot ahead of time to prepare them for me being in labor, and I’d told them that I needed to have strong contractions in order for the baby to come. My daughter Lyla had a harder time with hearing me in pain and eventually went into another room with Sarah and read. What a blessing it was to have so much support, not just for me but also for my kids.
Everything is a blur from evening until the next morning, but I remember that Heather came in to encourage me and take pictures occasionally. Jenica, my doula, and Justin, my husband, stayed with me the whole time in the bedroom. My midwife would come in and check the baby’s heart rate regularly, but besides that stayed out in the kitchen working on some handcrafts (the walls of her house are lined nearly floor-to-ceiling with framed cross-stitch art that she’s completed in her 40 years of waiting for babies), she said she never sits somewhere comfortable during a birth because she would fall asleep. I know the kids watched a few movies and that Sarah had brought some toys and books to keep them occupied. At some point someone baked frozen pizzas and everyone ate. Jenica fixed me some oatmeal, but I could only manage a few bites. Heather brought me an electrolyte drink, which probably got me through more than anyone realized, as I really hadn’t drunk or eaten much at all since breakfast. I took a bath and Perry poured water on my shoulders. Darleen went out to buy a heating pad for me. Sarah prayed over me. I listened to the Christian Hypnobirthing app. Eventually I threw up a couple times, and I also took a shower near the end.
It was a slow and steady labor, which I trust was just what my body needed, but very difficult. In total, it ended up being 26 hours of labor, the second half of which was active and so, so hard. My midwife was stern with me a couple times, which was unexpected and hard for me but helpful. Afterwards, my doula said this midwife was in the “middle range” of others she’s worked with, that some were extremely meek and gentle- sometimes to a fault- and some on the other end of the spectrum that she described as aggressive. So in labor when my midwife became stern I thought it was mean and uncalled for, but afterwards I realized that I needed someone to push me, because my energy and motivation were fading. I didn’t realize it, but I was starting to give up and needed someone who wouldn’t let me.
My midwife knew I was in my head and feeling like I couldn’t do it, so she told me I needed to get out of my head, really listen to my affirmations I had playing, stop feeling sorry for myself and do the work. I just kept thinking how unbearable it was, though I tried not to. I couldn’t even hear my affirmations during a contraction. I kept thinking “how has any woman ever done this?” and about women who were birthing right then without all the wonderful support and comfort I had- this thought would make me so sad and even more tense. Something I learned during and after labor was just how much tension I hold in my body. I knew I needed to release- release my pelvic floor, release my cervix to open, release my baby to come out- but my instinct was to tighten and tense up during a contraction. That’s something I wish in hindsight I’d worked on more during pregnancy- releasing tension.
About the last four hours of labor, I would sleep between contractions. I just had to; I’d fall asleep for a minute or two, then have a minute-or-two-long contraction. These were the hardest. I was lying on my side with my doula behind me and my husband in front of me. I wanted to escape these, I remember seeing myself almost from an out of body pint of view and seeing how it looked like I was trying to move away from the pain- I would start off fine and breathe with deep, primal growls, but sometimes as it peaked I would arch my back and cry out in short little gasping cries. I did my best to intently focus on an object and breathe as steadily as possible. I focused on this city-scape wall art across from the bed and on the label on the lightbulb in the lamp on the bedside table. It said “MAX” and I would think, “it’s ok, body, go to the ‘max’, this is what we need to get the baby out”. It sounds dumb now but at the time seemed profound. During these last hours, my midwife gave me some tincture she called “boost”. I generally like or at least don’t mind tinctures, but this one was vile.
I hadn’t wanted any cervical checks but ended up having three- one during very early labor, just to make sure things were actually starting, one late in the day when I thought surely I must be almost done and was distraught to find I was only 5 cm, and one near the end when my midwife said if I was still about where I was before and hadn’t progressed, because I wasnt coping well, we might need to consider transferring to the hospital and getting an epidural and some pitocin. (I learned later that the baby’s heart rate was slightly concerning there at the end, dropping then rising back to normal.) Everyone said that after that it seemed like I sort of “broke through”, like I took that threat seriously and let it urge me on, but that’s not what it felt like was going on in me at the time- I felt ready to give up on this whole home birth thing, I wouldve gladly taken an epidural. I would’ve transferred to a hospital except that I couldn’t fathom possibly getting in a car or driving in one. (I’d pictured using all these different positions in labor, but in the active phase it was all I could do just to make it through. I did do some position changes, but mostly just survived in whatever position I was in.)
Though I felt like my midwife was being mean and trying to scare me by threatening the hospital, I agreed to a check and she said “there’s no cervix, you’re ready to push your baby out.” This was after 2:00 AM, Monday.
I did feel ever so slightly “pushy” but not nearly as much as I’d expected. I had also expected to feel very afraid of rupture at some point, but I never did.
Pushing was the hardest thing ever. I was utterly exhausted. I just wanted it to be done. I had imagined pushing maybe kneeling or squatting but ended up propped up on my back on the bed, pulling my knees in and holding my breath, at direction of my midwife. I didn’t want to do it like that but didn’t have energy to do it any other way. I kept blowing out at first, and my midwife was sternly telling me to stop doing that and to hold my breath instead and bear down. Finally I was able to muster the determination to follow those directions. I didn’t feel baby coming down; I didn’t feel burning; all I felt was the contractions. But my husband and doula and midwife were all telling me I was doing it and to keep going. My water broke with a splash; the baby’s head came out soon after, and my midwife said to look. I was still in agony from the contractions and didn’t yet feel any relief, physically or emotionally. Then her body came and my midwife slowly eased her out and said “take your baby, Jennifer” (one of my husband’s favorite memories- it makes him laugh to remember how bluntly and dryly she said it), and I reached down and brought her up to me. Then the relief finally came, knowing I was done. I had only pushed for about 10 minutes or less, just a few contractions. I cried and said “that was so hard”, and it took a while for it to sink in that it was really over and I had really done it.
We had a beautiful golden hour, at 2 in the morning. Everyone who had been sleeping- my kids and friend/sisters woke up when they heard me pushing and came in when they heard her cry. I had pictured everyone being there when she was born, the kids in particular, but was glad they weren’t, it was so, so intense and I think would’ve been hard for them to handle. But having them there right away afterwards was perfect. My sister took beautiful pictures; everyone was so happy and supportive and encouraging. I held my baby on my chest, with everyone around just pouring out love. We waited for the placenta to come out before Justin cut the umbilical cord. Perry told us not to cut the cord and was so worried about us hurting the baby, but we assured him it wouldn’t hurt. I took a shower and my midwife and doula got the bed made fresh, and Justin fell immediately asleep as soon as he could.
We all got some rest; my daughter helped Auntie Heather make some delicious, nourishing breakfast burritos for us all; the day was a soft, slow, sweet blur. Sarah stayed another night with us and helped us with cleaning up. The midwife came in the morning to check me and the baby, all was well, and we had finally decided on a name- Willa Elisabeth.
Willa means protection. God protected her and me through a vaginal birth after three c-sections! I’m so grateful He made it possible, grateful He led us along the way- to the right plan, the right midwife and doula, the right house. I’m grateful to have experienced a physiological birth surrounded by loved ones.
Jennifer Blacklock Blog 
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