The birth of Willow Elise. My personal birth story.

I had been anticipating the arrival of my daughter for my entire pregnancy. I was excited to experience labor and birth again, and as I neared the end, I wanted to take a day for myself and my husband to just relax. We sent our toddler to a sitter and planned a quiet day at home—no people, no stress, just us. We spent the day in bed with snacks, movies, video games, and hours of conversation.

Around noon, I noticed some contractions, but they were irregular. Just in case, we tried massaging some acupressure points to encourage things along. They never settled into a pattern or gained much intensity, so I brushed them off and we went about the rest of our day. By 4 p.m., we had picked up our son, had dinner, and settled in for the evening. That’s when I noticed the contractions had returned—this time stronger.

I timed them. They were coming every 4–5 minutes, lasting a minute each, and had a good amount of intensity behind them. I had already been dilated to a soft and thin 4 cm for weeks, so I didn't want to wait too long in case things progressed faster this time around. We packed up and headed to the hospital.

The first check showed I was about 5 cm dilated, with bulging waters and contractions now coming every two minutes. I spent some time walking the halls, bouncing on a yoga ball, and talking with my husband. But at my next check, I was still at 5 cm. They did a membrane sweep to see if it would help and decided to admit me for the night. My contractions slowed down, but we figured labor would pick back up soon. My father-in-law came to get our son, and we settled in, ready to meet our baby.

Then 7 p.m. passed.

Then 8.

Then 9.

A check showed I had made it to 6 cm. After talking with my OB, we decided I should rest for the night. My contractions weren’t too intense, so we planned to break my water in the morning and see if that would move things along.

By midnight, my contractions had slowed even more—about 10 minutes apart and barely noticeable. By morning, I wasn’t sure if I’d had any at all. My doctor came in at 9 a.m. to check, and surprisingly, I had progressed to 8 cm. My body had been working, just quietly. At 9:30, we broke my water, and instantly, things kicked into high gear.

Contractions hit back-to-back with barely any break in between. I labored in the shower for a while, but my husband started getting nervous because of how intense they had become. I got checked again—still at 8 cm. But within 10 minutes, I felt a deep, overwhelming pressure. My doctor was called in, and by the time he arrived, I was ready to push.

I had leaned over the back of the bed, letting my body do the work, but something felt off. I switched to more of a reclined squat, and my doctor checked again. A small lip of my cervix remained, so he gave me the option to wait or push past it with my next contraction. The pressure was intense, so I decided to push. One small push, and it moved out of the way.

From there, my doctor told me to push whenever I was ready. I waited for the next contraction, let my body take over, and with one push—she was here. Just like that. At 11:21 a.m., in under a minute of active pushing, Willow was born.

She was tiny—just 5 lbs 14 oz, 18 inches of pure perfection. I pulled her to my chest and just breathed in the moment, soaking in the reality that she was finally here. But she was quiet, not wanting to cry. The nurses took her for a moment, gave her a little oxygen, and within seconds, she was screaming and pink. They brought her right back to me, and she nestled in to nurse.

She was a sleepy baby, not the strongest nurser at first, so we syringe-fed her colostrum until she was alert enough to eat on her own. Other than that small hurdle, she was perfect.

By the time I had Willow, I had started my doula journey. I went into her birth with more knowledge, more confidence, and a deep trust in my body. Labor didn’t go exactly as I had expected, but it unfolded in its own way, and I was at peace with that.