The birth of Calliope Faye

Birth has a way of reminding you that no matter how much you plan, things unfold in their own time and in their own way. It’s a balance of preparation and surrender, of trusting the process even when it doesn’t look exactly the way you imagined.

For weeks leading up to my daughter’s birth, my body was preparing. I had contractions that would start and stop, never quite turning into active labor but always reminding me that we were getting closer. I had experienced prodromal labor with my previous pregnancies, so I knew this was just how my body worked. It was frustrating at times, but I trusted that when the time was right, things would move forward.

A week before she was born, I had an appointment with my OB-GYN and found out I was already six centimeters dilated. My body was ready, but labor just hadn’t fully started yet. My midwife and I decided that when it felt right, we would break my water to encourage things to progress. Until then, I waited, knowing it wouldn’t be much longer.

On the morning of June 29th, I took a set of herbal tinctures my midwife recommended, hoping to get my contractions into a more regular pattern. Through the morning, I never felt like I was laboring so I felt a bit discouraged. By the time my midwife arrived at 3 p.m., I was already eight centimeters dilated and fully effaced. My body had been working all along, just without the intensity I had expected. We decided to break my water and see if things would pick up.

It did, quickly.

I had planned a water birth, but as soon as we started filling the birth pool, we realized my water heater had released sediment into it, making it unusable. In that moment, I had a choice—I could be upset that my plans had changed, or I could accept that birth is unpredictable and trust that everything was unfolding exactly as it should. I chose to go with the flow.

I moved to the shower for some comfort, letting the warm water run over me, and soon after, I felt the shift. The contractions became more intense, and I knew it was time. I made my way to my bedroom, and labored at the edge of my bed.

At 4:08 p.m., my daughter was born under a roll of thunder. She took a moment to transition, needing a little help to take her first breaths, but once she did, she was perfect. She latched onto me right away, settling in as if she had always been there.

Outside, the storm powered on. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and rain poured down, cleansing the earth as I held my newborn daughter. It felt fitting—powerful & raw.

Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing. Even though I didn’t get the water birth I had envisioned, the experience was still exactly what it was meant to be. Birth has a way of showing you that you don’t have to be in control—you just have to trust your body, trust the process, and let things happen as they are meant to.