Our natural, vaginal, REDEMPTIVE breech birth story ✨

Disclaimer:

Before you dive into this birth story, I want you to take a breath and allow yourself to enter in. This story has the potential to re-shape how you see birth and what you ever thought was possible. Birth is deeply sacred and vulnerable. Reading a birth story, even from a stranger on the internet, can be such a powerful experience, if we allow it to be. Enjoy!

6:00 AM ⏰

I wake up to pee and feel mild contractions (more intense than what I’ve been feeling for weeks beforehand but not intense enough to get up and wake up).

When I wipe, it’s a bunch of stringy clear watery mucous.

I decide to just go back into bed and try to go back to sleep.

6:30 AM

I realize that I actually probably won’t be able to sleep through them, but I keep trying.

8:30 AM

I tell my husband, “I’m having contractions.”

I’m still awake but have been just cuddling my toddler and closing my eyes to try to sleep.

This is when I started having to moan through the contractions but I still feel they are very manageable.

8:45 AM

I’m still laying in bed with my pregnancy pillow. My husband suggests we start to time them, so we did.

We realize they’re about 7–8 minutes apart and lasting 1.5 minutes.

I also wipe at this point and see some pink bloody show.

9:00 AM

I decide to text my midwife and let her know about the contractions and bloody show—I only did this because I knew she was at a festival 1.5 hours away, or else I would have waited because they felt so manageable still.

Keep in mind, with my first, I had like 20 hours of “early labor” before it got pretty intense. So I was gearing up for a lot more intensity and for a lot more time.

9:30 AM

My toddler wakes up and starts holding my hand with my husband through every contraction.

I’m still making low, moaning sounds through my contractions. But it was so peaceful.

I’m realizing I’m about 5–6 minutes apart and that I really need to get in touch with my midwife.

I call her twice in a row, no answer.

Around this time I call my doula—I’m still able to have very normal conversations and would just take breaks during the contractions.

I’m really unsure if my doula should come because I’m just LOVING this time with my toddler and husband. It’s so peaceful and beautiful.

We decide to hold off on her coming because I knew I’d have a while of this to go...

9:39 AM

My final attempt to call my midwife’s cell, but I wasn’t panicking because I knew I’d have a while to go!

I thought this because I was feeling so in control, centred, peaceful. It was almost enjoyable!

I did not feel this with Lela once active labor began so I assumed I was in early labor.

10:00 AM

My husband and daughter are still holding my hand through every contraction.

It’s beautiful. He has the same music playing that we played during her birth 2.5 years ago.

Whenever she’d hear me start to deep moan, she’d come running and hold my right hand, and he’d hold my left.

✨ I needed both of them every single time. They were my rocks. ✨

10:15 AM

My contractions are definitely 4–5 minutes apart now and although I feel really in control, I knew my midwife should probably be aware and I hadn’t heard back from her.

Now I’m desperate to get ahold of her, so I call her a few more times, call her husband, and then finally decide to call her cottage.

INSANE THING #1 😳

I call my midwife’s cottage in desperation to contact her because at this point, she doesn’t even know I’m in labor and I’m already at 5:1:1 AND she’s a full 1.5 hours away.

Here’s how the conversation goes when I call her cottage (on speaker for both me and Kody to hear):

• A man answers: “Hello?”

• Me: “Hi! Is Betty Anne there?”

• Him (rather angrily): “She’s no longer with us!”

• Me: “Oh! Sorry, what do you mean?”

• Him: “SHE DIED.”

• Me: “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry! Wait, who is this?”

• Him: “This is her son!!!”

• Me: “I’m so sorry... bye.” hangs up

  
  

Keep in mind, I’m most likely in active labor this entire time.

I look at Kody, he looks at me.

We no longer have a provider.

Normally this would be fine because there would normally be many a midwife in our city who could fill in... but not for us.

Because he’s breech.

So now, we REALLY have no provider and no one who would be willing to respect our wishes of a natural, vaginal birth.

10:40 AM

I decide to call my chiropractor to come. I was going to wait longer because I still am thinking that I’m not that far along.

But now I don’t need physical help, I need mental help—to get back into a calm nervous system state.

She makes her way over.

I try my very best to take deep breaths, as the contractions continue, and ground myself.

10:45 AM

My doula arrives. At this point, Kody and I are doing everything we can.

Betty-Anne has worked hard for DECADES and I was aware she has put together a “breech squad” full of midwives who are comfortable attending breech births (not being the main providers, however).

Earlier that week, one of those midwives texted me asking if I wanted to take their breech information seminar (I said no because I knew I wouldn’t be pregnant at that point).

But I had an AHA moment! I could call HER! Maybe she can help!

So I called her, sharing the unfortunate news, and she also hears me go through contractions.

I call the midwife I transferred from.

We do everything we can to find a provider.

12:00 PM

I get a call from an unknown number.

• Me: “Hello?”

• Him: “Hi Natalie! Are you in labor? How’s it going?”

• Me: “Yes, I am... but sorry, who is this?”

• Him: “This is Betty-Anne’s husband!”

• Me: “Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry.”

• Him: “For what?”

• Me: “Oh. I’m about to say something very hard to hear... but I have been told she died!”

• Him: laughs “Well, thank God she’s right over there and very much alive!!!”

• Me:... processing 😳

I don’t know who that man is who answered my phone call.

I don’t know why this is a part of my birth story.

I don’t know all the answers.

But what I DO KNOW is that Satan didn’t want this birth to happen and this is the first moment I realize that.

✨ So... WE HAVE OUR PROVIDER STILL! ✨

12:05 PM

My chiropractor arrives and adjusts me.

I’m still in bed with my pregnancy pillow, still holding my husband and daughter’s hands through contractions.

If they don’t make it for one, my doula steps in. She’s wonderful.

She whispers “open and soft.” The word “soft” really helped me focus.

12:10 PM

I’m having contractions and then at the end I feel like bearing down. Interesting, I think.

12:15 PM

I’m still bearing down with contractions. I call out to my doula,

“Why do I feel like pushing???”

In my mind, I’m maybe JUST beginning active labor but maybe not.

• Her & my chiropractor: “Because you’re having your baby.”

• Me: “No no! This is too easy! I can’t be that close!”

• Her: “It can be this easy.”

  
  

Now, it wasn’t EASY! But it felt so much more in control than with Lela.

It felt more peaceful. It was beautiful. It was bonding.

It was at this point that I realized, without a single cervical check, that I was probably 10 cm dilated.

How is this possible?

Little did I know what was ahead of me...

12:30 PM

I’m really bearing down now.

I don’t want to leave my home. But I respect my midwife’s wishes and start heading to the car to go to the hospital.

CRAZY THING #2 🚗💨

12:35 PM

Our van is in the shop because it broke down a few days ago (timing?).

So, I climb into my in-laws’ vehicle.

Kody puts Lela in her car seat, my doula climbs in the back with me, and Kody starts driving.

I am full-on pushing. There is NO way to stop it.

I CANNOT believe I’m “already pushing.”

I didn’t even experience transition really?

It was just so peaceful and manageable through moaning and breathing for so many hours and now it’s gotten extremely intense.

12:45 PM

I’m pushing but trying not to because I’m nervous if I birth him in the car, I may lose him due to none of us knowing how to perform newborn resuscitation.

I’m praying. 🙏I’m asking Kody to go through all the red lights.

Please Jesus, get us there ASAP.

Trying to stop yourself from pushing is near impossible, and being “asked to” is completely the opposite of what’s natural. Mentally, this was hard to do—but I had to do it, so I just… did. However, my uterus was still pushing.

12:50 PM

We hear a huge POP! 💥 …my water breaks.

It’s all over my pants. I’m completely soaked. I look down—it’s brown in colour.

All over my pants. Like everywhere.

I know the brown is fine because he’s breech and breech babies can often have meconium.

But more than that, I’m 41+3 and oftentimes the amniotic fluid is NOT clear at this gestation.

I’m not worried. I carry on.

1:00 PM

We arrive at the ER because there was NO TIME TO WASTE.

We pull up and my midwife is in the car ahead of us.

I get out with poo and amniotic fluid all over me.

Just get inside, Natalie. Just get inside.

It’s not “beautiful” anymore.

It’s stressful.

It’s scary.

This is not the type of environment a mother should be in while in the pushing phase.

We walk into emerge and we’re being told we can’t be there. “This isn’t obstetrics.”

They’re not getting it.

I’m pushing. I’m giving birth.

I let my team around me sort this out.

1:10 PM

I’m on a bed being quickly rolled throughout the hospital to get to the birthing room.

I’m numb emotionally.

But… I’m not.

I actually have a lot more to give. More than I ever thought possible.

1:15 PM

We make it to the room.

I strip myself of those drenched pants and climb in the bed.

I birthed Lela on my side and I just wanted to lay down. So I do, and now I push harder.

I allow my body to push how it wants to.

✨ THIS IS THE PART OF THE BIRTH STORY THAT GETS HARD TO PUT INTO WORDS.

NO WORDS can truly describe what transpires in the next moments.

Allow me to try…

I’ve now been pushing for 45 minutes.

Keep in mind, I pushed for only 20 with my first.

I was quite confused. But I keep at it. Every minute, probably.

They get the fetal monitor on me, which my midwife told me about prior.

Usually, I would say no to this sort of thing, but I had a lot to balance when making decisions about this particular birth, being breech.

1:20 PM

Betty Anne asks me to try to use gravity because it’s not reeeeeally progressing.

I’m exhausted and want to keep laying down.

I also want this baby out.

Let’s do it.

1:25 PM

I had been pushing on the bed, on my knees leaning over the headboard of the bed.

It doesn’t feel productive.

Betty Anne asks me to get off the bed and try the birth stool.

That was something I REALLY didn’t want to do. But I did.

I knew it wasn’t progressing as fast as it could be.

Meaning: he wasn’t really budging. It didn’t feel like each push was making progress.

I needed to dig deeper.

But I wasn’t sure why.

1:30 PM

I’m pushing sitting up on the stool.

I’m hating it. I feel like I may fall off.

But I knew that Betty Anne has had MANY deliveries work well in this position—so I give it my all.

I’m being told:

• “Wow, you’re super strong.”

• “That’s great! Keep going.”

• “Your anus is bulging which means he’s lower!”

• “Reach down and feel his foot!”

  
  

So I do. And I can feel his foot.

Which should have felt relieving/exciting.

But I knew deep down… something still isn’t working.

There are THREE midwives there because they’re trying to train more midwives on breech birth.

Betty Anne asks one to apply fundal pressure (just a bit of very gentle help that can be offered with breech babies).

It does nothing.

Eventually, someone else applies the fundal pressure and it’s helpful but still… something isn’t working.

⚡ THIS IS THE BIGGEST PART OF MY BIRTH STORY ⚡

One that still gives me a visceral response.

1:35 PM

I feel the room get quiet.

I’m in excruciating pain, for so long, but I’m still present and aware.

I know what’s happening.

Something has shifted.

They don’t think this is possible.

They think it’ll be a c-section.

I just know it.

I keep pushing but I feel weak.

WHY is this so hard?!

I have heard COUNTLESS breech stories and the pushing is often EASIER and faster than head down because the soft tissue of the bum “primes” the cervix and vaginal opening!

Why was this not working?

As a first-time mom 2.5 years ago, I pushed out an 8-pound baby in 20 minutes.

Why has it been nearly 1.5 hours and it’s not working?

I KNOW it’s not “me”... but is it?

I’m starting to doubt myself too.

But not the “doubt myself” that normally happens in transition.

This was an entirely different sort of doubt:

“Is this humanly possible?”

This was:

“There’s something making this potentially IMPOSSIBLE.”

But I carry on.

I can’t give up.

I can’t give in.

I must keep trying.

But I’m not feeling as strong as I know is required to get this baby out… for SOME REASON.

I get down on my hands and knees, which felt more intuitively good.

I push for a while.

It still isn’t working.

1:37 PM

Betty Anne looks at me, “Natalie, your baby’s heart rate is elevated and has been for much longer than our protocol allows. If you cannot get this baby out in the next 20 minutes, it’s going to be a c-section.”

I stop.

If Betty Anne is saying this to me, that means it’s serious.

Not his safety—I KNEW INTUITIVELY THAT HE WAS SAFE.

But if even SHE was “doubting” that this was possible, I knew that there really was something extraordinarily challenging happening here.

I just didn’t know what.

And I continued to feel that doubt.

Is this possible?

Maybe it’s not supposed to happen this way?

My husband lies down on the literal ground and looks up at me.

“Hi,” he says, with all the love beaming through his eyes.

I say, “I’m giving up, babe.”

He says, “Don’t give up, Natalie. You can do this. I know you’re scared. You can’t give up now. GET THE BABY OUT.”

🔥 I LIED. THIS IS ACTUALLY THE MOST IMPORTANT AND TRANSFORMATIVE PART OF MY BIRTH STORY—AND POTENTIALLY MY LIFE 🔥

I had a conversation with myself mentally.

It went something like this:

• “A c-section would be easier so just get one.”

• “Well wait, is that actually true? Because the recovery probably won’t be easier.”

• “I don’t care about that right now, I just want this agony to be over with.”

• “Okay, but you’ll be pushing for another 20 mins, then you’ll have contractions all the way down to the OR, which will probably take 5 mins, then maybe another 5 to get all set up. That’s 30 mins total of more contractions…”

• “It’s going to be 30 mins ANYWAYS of this insanity... Get. The. Baby. Out.”

  
  

“JESUS!!! I’M GETTING THIS BABY OUT.”

And suddenly, my hands and feet raised up so I’m pushing on my elbows and knees.

My back is arching.

I’m getting the f-ing baby out.

GET BEHIND ME, SATAN. I’M DOING IT.

And I did.

I push with MORE than everything I had.

WAY MORE. More than I ever thought possible.

More than every midwife in that room, all senior, thought was possible.

I push.

And I push again.

Arching. Literally BEYOND.

It’s working.

I feel something come out.

It’s a foot. 👣

I keep going as hard as I FREAKING POSSIBLY CAN.

I feel the ring of fire.

🔥 PRAISE GOD!!!!!!! HECK YES. LET’S GO. JESUS WINS THIS BATTLE. LET’S GO, NATALIE!!!

Ring of fire. Ring of fire for so long.

YES!!!!!

Something else comes out—his butt and legs all the way up to his navel.

KEEP GOING, NATALIE!!!!

I do.

I keep going.

His shoulders.

NOW IT’S THE VERY END.

DIG DEEP.

Something else comes out.

It’s his head.

I just birthed my baby. 👶

Cross-legged.

Let’s sit with that again (because HE certainly was sitting).

He was in the widest possible position for a baby to ever be born in. Ever.

It wasn’t the width of a butt or a head.

It wasn’t the width of a body folded (which many breech babies are—which is wider than a head).

It was the width of a butt and body WITH HIS KNEES POINTED OUTWARD.

He was the widest possible width and diameter.

That’s why it was so hard!!!!!!

And not just “hard.”

A birth against all odds.

One that many would deem impossible.

One that shook the heavens. ✨

2:01 PM

He’s born. With a triple nuchal cord (not a problem).

KODY IS YELLING, “DON’T TOUCH THE CORD. WE WANT IMMEDIATE SKIN TO SKIN. GIVE HER THE BABY.”

My doula, gently: “Natalie, reach down and grab your baby!!!”

I look down.

There he is. Looking up at me. 👀

Completely aware.

Completely healthy.

Perfect APGAR.

No resuscitation required.

Jesus. Wins. ✝️

(Little did I know at the time, but as he was being pushed out, about 6 hospital staff sneak in. I learn later from a very trusted source that they do this and they take the baby to do testing, etc., since he’s breech.

Not today.

My baby was in my arms thanks to my husband fighting like a LION and my doula.)

I did it.

I birthed a cross-legged breech baby.

Naturally. Vaginally.

Without medical intervention.

And Satan left QUIVERING at the power of God and a mother’s love.

And I’ve never felt more proud.

If you EVER THOUGHT that you couldn’t do it—that you couldn’t birth your baby…

✨ Let my story revive you.✨ Let it invigorate you.✨ Let it encapsulate you.

I birthed a nearly “impossible” positioned baby.

With the medical system against me.

Even with a moment where all my providers doubted me (I’ve learned since, they didn’t doubt ME! They saw his position and knew

that it was impossible).

With his “position” against me.

He was perfect.

He was wise.

He was amazing.

Mama: @nataliezimaa

And so are YOU.

If I can do it, you can too.

Praise the Lord, for the most transformative, EMPOWERING, against-all-odds, beautiful, healing and REDEMPTIVE birth I could have never imagined.

God is coming for me.

And He’s coming for you, too.

You are never left alone, sweet mama. 💕

✨ Welcome to the world, my sweet strong boy.

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