Stormi’s Birth (My VBA2C)
Different Baby, Different Birth
I’ve been meaning to sit down and write this story while it’s still fresh in my mind so many times, but life with a newborn, toddlers, and early postpartum is such a whirlwind! Nonetheless, I thought sharing it on her 1-month milestone of being earthside would be pretty good timing. I still can’t believe I’m sharing this, as I had dreamed about having a VBAC after my first cesarean.
My first baby’s birth was really hard on me emotionally, making me feel like my body had failed me in some way. Even though I looked at my son and saw the most beautiful thing it had created, I was still sad about his entrance into the world and knew I wanted to experience something different if I ever gave birth again. I won’t go into detail about my first two births since I want to focus on Stormi’s story, but I know much of her story comes from what I learned and experienced with my boys. After two long labors that resulted in cesareans, I was nervous about potentially going through that again when I found out I was pregnant with our third. During my pregnancy, that fear crept in at times, and I almost convinced myself to have a scheduled repeat cesarean multiple times.
My pregnancy with her was truly about facing my fears, doing my research, prepping my mind and body, and going into her birth with the mindset “different baby, different birth”. I had so much amazing support from my husband, family, close friends, and my provider. By the time I reached 30 weeks, I felt like a new person and was ready to face the final part of my pregnancy with confidence that my body knew how to deliver her, that I had gained so much knowledge, and that we were going to do it.
I talked to Stormi so much in those last few weeks because I knew her journey into the world was a dance she and I would do together, and I wanted to feel as connected to her and her to me as possible. This was her story too, and I wanted to make sure she always felt how loved she was, even before it was time for her to make her entrance.
The Final Weeks
I was in an on and off prodromal labor with her for weeks before actual labor started. I was having constant Braxton Hicks from week 25 on, but the 2 weeks prior to her birth almost every night I thought it might be time, only to have hours of pretty consistent contractions that would end up stopping and lead to nothing. We did have an induction scheduled at 41 weeks with her, and as much as I did not want to be induced and knew my chances were higher if I went into spontaneous labor, after a lot of discussion with my midwife we decided this was the best route if I didn’t go into labor before then. My babies usually stay past their due dates; my first was 42+2, and my second was 40+6, so I expected we would go until at least my due date again.
My goal going into this birth was to have the least amount of intervention as possible, but I was also open to working with what felt right in my body and being intentional and strategic with how any interventions were used. I had learned so much since my last birth—especially in the world of VBAC—and part of rebuilding trust in my body was also trusting that I now had the knowledge to make decisions that supported it, rather than working against it.
Once my due date hit, I mentally struggled a bit with the idea that I had 7 days until that 41 week induction. I knew I had all the power to move it and not go, but I also wanted to stick to the plan we had because I felt comfortable with that decision. I chose to get a membrane sweep on my due date, which I know can be controversial, but I wanted to see if that would kickstart anything to eventually avoid an induction the following week. When I got checked, I was 1cm dilated and my cervix was soft, but still very posterior. She did a partial sweep, and we planned for me to come in the following Tuesday, which was the day before my scheduled induction, to do one more. The following days were similar to before: on-and-off contractions, but nothing that stuck.
When the following Tuesday came, I was 40+6 and I went in to get another sweep. I was still about 1cm dilated, but my cervix had moved anterior, which was such a great feeling! They were able to successfully sweep, and I went home with the plan to hopefully go into labor or go in for my induction the following night at 10:30pm.
A Change in Plans
The next day we had everything planned for going in that night. I was still having on-and-off contractions, and they were getting more intense when I would have them, which I was excited about. As I laid in bed with the boys that night to put them to sleep before we headed in for the induction, I got a phone call from our hospital. I quickly muted it to not wake my boys up, but texted my husband to call them back. I had a gut feeling they were calling to push me out—and I was right.
Labor and Delivery was packed and there was no space. They rescheduled me to the following day at 5:30pm. I was frustrated, but I also really tried to convince myself this was all hopefully for a reason. After talking with my doula, we thought it would be a good plan to get in one more time the next morning for a last membrane sweep before I went in.
The Beginning of Her Arrival
The next morning my husband and I dropped our boys off at their forest school and took the morning to ourselves. We went out to a nice breakfast and called to see if I could get in for a sweep. They were able to get me in at 11:00am, so my husband and I finished our breakfast and headed in. My cervix was still about the same, which I tried not to get in my head about, and we went home and enjoyed the afternoon to ourselves.
When my husband went to pick up our boys, I stayed home and tried to nap—but that's when contractions picked up. I was in denial about it because it had been happening over and over again for weeks, but I noticed they felt different. They were more in my cervix and lower back. They were still about 7 minutes apart, but they were becoming consistent.
Around 4:00pm, I got a call from the hospital and I knew I was getting pushed again—which I was. They were still very packed, and if I came in I would be sitting in triage, which I had no desire to do. I told them I was starting to have contractions consistently and I would just labor at home until they had a room for me.
Early Labor
As the night went on, we went outside for the boys to play and I walked loops around our neighborhood. My contractions were getting more intense and consistently about 5–6 minutes apart. I remember constantly having to stop at the same sign in our neighborhood to lean on during contractions so I knew they were becoming consistent.
Around 7:45pm, they called us and we had a room. My contractions at that point were about 4–5 minutes apart, and I was feeling so excited to be going into this induction already in an early labor. We packed up all our stuff, took a last picture of us with our boys, said goodbye, and headed in.
Arriving & Labor Progression
We got there around 8:45pm, and the lady at the front desk laughed when we told her we had a room because she said they were so busy it was not likely—and I almost lost it—until a nurse came out and let her know we did have a room and it was ready for us.
As I was walking down the hall to our room I had to stop for a contraction and it surprised the nurse I was already in labor. Once we got up to the room at about 9:15pm, I had to go to the bathroom and when I went in, I lost my mucus plug. This was a first for me! With my boys, it had come out during labor or during a check, and I never saw it, so I was really excited to see it and know my body was continuing to make progress. I made sure to send a picture of it to my doula chat so my husband had to see it - thats the one thing out of all the things in birth that just gets him!
About 10 minutes later, my doula arrived, and she and my husband worked on setting up the room with tons of fairy lights and all the things to make the room cozy. I continued to have contractions about 4 minutes apart, but was fine in between and excited to be anchoring down in the space where Stormi would be born.
At 10:30pm, after all the paperwork and things it takes to get started, I was checked and still about 1cm, 50% effaced, -2 station. I was a little bummed, but I knew my body was still doing what it needed to do. Since VBAC limits certain induction options, we decided to start with a Foley balloon at 10:55 PM—a more gentle, mechanical way to encourage progress. The intensity came on quickly, and after a little over an hour while laboring on the toilet, I knew it was coming out—and it did, along with my bloody show.
Finding My Rhythm
Around 2:00am, my doula suggested a bath and it was the perfect decision. The room was dark with candles, she added essential oils, and brought me a coconut pineapple drink. It was honestly so peaceful. I found a really great rhythm—pulling myself up on the shower bar during contractions, breathing and vocalizing through them, and then relaxing fully between them. My husband stayed in there with me, stroking my hair and comforting me. It was one of my favorite parts of my labor.
At 2:45am, I was checked and had made great progress—6cm, 90% effaced, -1 station.
The Hardest Stretch
By 5:45am, after hours of intensifying contractions, I was checked again… and I was still 6cm, 90% effaced, -1 station.
That was a really hard moment for me mentally. I had just spent the last few hours working through some of the most intense contractions I had ever felt, and I was so sure I had made more progress. I really thought I would hear 7 or 8, or at least that I was completely effaced. Hearing that nothing had changed made me have to really reel in my emotions and refocus.
At that point, I decided to have them break my water around 6:00am, hoping that would help move things along. I felt confident baby was in a good position and wasn’t too worried about any negative implications. As soon as my water broke, the intensity shifted almost immediately.
The contractions became significantly stronger, closer together—about 2–3 minutes apart—and much harder to work through. They were incredibly intense, and I felt them deeply, especially in my c-section scar area, which made it mentally even more challenging. I had never experienced contractions like that before, and it started to bring up fear for me, even though everything clinically was fine.
My doula and husband were incredible during this time—doing counterpressure, encouraging me, keeping me grounded, and making sure I stayed hydrated and nourished. I was eating small bites of liver jerky, dried fruit, and drinking coconut water and laboraide in between contractions to keep my energy up.
After about an hour of working through contractions at that level, I could feel myself starting to lose my mental grip. I was anticipating each contraction before it even came and struggling to relax between them.
At that point, I started asking for an epidural. I decided to get checked one more time first.
At 7:00am, I was still 6cm.
I knew I was ready for the epidural.
Moving Forward
Once the epidural was placed—after a failed first attempt due to a kinked line—it finally kicked in around 7:40am, and I felt like a completely different person. I could breathe again, think clearly, and actually be present.
I remember looking at my husband and feeling like we were both back. He had been so amazing through those intense hours, and I know it wasn’t easy for him to see me like that.
Even with the epidural, I could still feel my contractions, which I really liked. I felt connected to what my body was doing, just without the overwhelming pain.
We made a plan that if I hadn’t progressed in the next couple of hours, we would consider a low dose of Pitocin.
For the next few hours, we focused on position changes—side lying, all fours, using the peanut ball—and I was able to get a little rest.
At 9:45am, I was checked again… and still hadn’t changed. I had been at 6cm for over 10 hours.
This time, I felt more grounded. We agreed to start low-dose Pitocin at 10:00am, and they also did a catheter to help create more space.
As the Pitocin started, we continued with position changes, including using the CUB my husband grabbed from the car that I had purchased for clients, but was now able to use for myself! Around 11:10am, we increased the Pitocin to a 4, and I could feel contractions becoming stronger and more consistent again, which was so encouraging. I also voiced that I did not want to go any higher on the Pitocin than that; my goal was to stay as low on Pitocin as possible.
The Turning Point
Around 12:00pm, I moved into princess pose, and not long after that, my mother-in-law brought our boys in to visit.
Seeing them brought such a wave of emotion. I’m with them all day, every day, so even though they had really only been awake and with grandma for a few hours, it felt like forever to me. I had missed them so much.
I could tell my 2-year-old was a little unsure seeing me in the hospital bed with the IV—it made him a bit nervous—so I really tried to put on my best face for them. I wanted them to feel safe and that I was okay, even though I was in the middle of something so intense.
While they were in the room, I started to feel different. I could feel myself getting shaky, a little nauseous, and there was this deep, building pressure that I hadn’t felt before. At the same time, I started to feel the urge to poop, and everything in my body was shifting.
My doula brain immediately kicked in—“Jade, you are clearly close. These are all the signs.”
But the other part of me was still in denial—“It’s probably just the Pitocin and epidural… it’s probably nothing.”
I was going back and forth in my head, trying not to get my hopes up after being stuck at 6cm for so long.
They stayed for about 20 minutes, and around 12:30pm, they left. I remember watching them walk out and immediately starting to cry. I could see how emotional my older one was, and it just hit me all at once—being away from them, being in this moment, everything building at once. It was such a vulnerable moment for me.
As soon as the door closed, I said, “I want to get checked—I feel like I need to poop.”
The nurse reached out to the midwife, but she was in another birth, so she asked if I was okay with her checking me—and I was completely fine with that. The nurses I had from shift change on were absolutely amazing. They were so supportive of my VBA2C and brought such a positive, encouraging energy into the room, which made such a difference.
At 12:40pm, she checked me—and I watched her face so closely, trying to read her expression before she even said anything.
I had been at 6cm, 90% effaced, and -1 for ten hours. I was so ready to hear anything other than that.
She looked at me, smiled, and said:
“You’re about 9.75cm dilated, 100% effaced, and baby is at 0 station.”
I about lost it.
I was so overwhelmed with relief and excitement—everyone in the room was. It felt like everything we had been working toward was finally happening.
Because there was just a little bit of cervix left, my doula and nurse suggested getting back onto all fours on the CUB to help me get to complete. We decided to try that for about 30 minutes. While I was in that position, I felt the pressure increase dramatically, and my body instinctively began to push.
And right around that time… everything else started to fall into place too.
The Surprise I Didn’t Expect
While I was laboring just before pushing, I randomly told my nurse how much I loved my midwife who had been with me through my last two pregnancies. She casually said, “I think I saw her earlier… she was here in street clothes.”
My heart immediately jumped.
I said right away, “Oh my gosh, is she here? If she is, please find her.”
She had been such a huge part of my journey—not just medically, but emotionally. Through my previous births, through the disappointment, through rebuilding trust in my body—she had always supported me and believed in me. I had even joked during pregnancy that I would pay her under the table to come to my birth. But realistically, I knew she mostly worked in the office and was rarely in Labor & Delivery. So hearing she might be in the building felt surreal—but I didn’t want to get my hopes up!
At 1:30pm, I was complete. My husband had a planned cheer he did when we heard that phrase, and he performed for all of us in the room. :)
At 1:38pm, I started pushing.
And just two minutes later, the door opened…
And there she was. My midwife!
With how busy Labor & Delivery was that day, she had been called in to help in triage. When she heard I was upstairs and about to start pushing, she came straight to my room.
It felt so meant to be. So full circle. Even my husband got emotional, knowing how much she meant to me. Having her there instantly gave me such a deep sense of comfort and confidence right when I needed it most.
The Moment She Arrived
The first part of pushing was definitely a learning curve for me. Even though, as a doula, I’ve supported women through this stage, I had never actually experienced it myself—and it felt completely different being on the other side of it.
We tried a few different positions at first, but ultimately I felt like I had the most control on my back with my legs supported on the bar. I was really trying to tune into my body, to understand what each contraction was asking of me and how to work with it instead of against it.
They attempted to find a mirror so I could see her as she moved down, but with how busy the floor was, there weren’t any available. My husband even tried using his phone so I could see, but that didn’t work either—I couldn’t see past my belly - ha!
That’s when my nurse suggested I reach down and feel her head.
And that changed everything.
The moment I felt her, it all clicked. It grounded me in a way nothing else had. It made everything feel real—like she was right there, so close—and it gave me a sense of direction and purpose with each push.
There was something so incredibly special about that moment. Having had two cesareans, I had never been the first—or even the fourth—person to touch my babies. And here I was, feeling my daughter as she made her way into the world. It made me feel so connected to her and to my body in a way I had never experienced before.
As I continued pushing, keeping my hand there, I could feel her moving down with each contraction. At one point, I even experienced the fetal ejection reflex—where my body was pushing without me even trying—and I could feel her descend on her own. It was the most surreal and empowering feeling.
The epidural was still working well, but I could feel my contractions strongly enough to know exactly when to push, which helped me stay in rhythm with my body.
After about an hour and twenty minutes of pushing, I could feel her getting so close. I felt the intensity shift as she began to crown, and I knew we were right there.
At 2:58pm, with one final push, she was born.
My husband helped guide her up to my chest, and I will never forget watching her come up to me. The second I saw and felt her, I burst into tears and said, “Awww baby…” as I held her close, completely overwhelmed that we had done it.
She was here!
Golden Hour & After
Shortly after she was placed on my chest, things shifted quickly.
At first, I was completely in awe—just staring at her, taking in her face, noticing how much she looked like my husband, and trying to process that she was finally here. I was still in that immediate “we did it” moment, just holding her close and soaking her in.
But not long after, I could feel that something was off.
I remember looking at my midwife’s face and sensing a shift in her expression. There was a seriousness there that immediately made my mind go to worst-case scenarios. Everything around me started to feel a little rushed.
Within just a couple of minutes of her being born, my placenta came out very quickly, and I could tell there was a lot of blood. I remember my husband cutting the cord, but everything felt like it was happening so fast. I kept asking, “What’s going on? Am I okay?”
It wasn’t long before I heard my midwife tell the nurses to administer TXA and methergine, and in that moment, I knew I was hemorrhaging.
There was definitely a moment where fear crept in. I tried to stay calm, checking in with my body—asking myself if I felt dizzy, like I might pass out—but I never did. I was alert, present, and trying so hard to keep my focus on the baby on my chest, even though I could feel and sense everything happening around me.
It felt like both seconds and forever at the same time.
Gradually, the room started to calm. The urgency softened, voices became less rushed, and I could feel that things were coming back under control. My midwife explained that I had a third-degree tear along with other lacerations, and that, combined with how quickly my placenta came out, caused significant bleeding—but they were able to manage it.
They called another doctor in to help with stitching, and as everything was being repaired, I finally started to feel a sense of relief wash over me.
And that’s when I was finally able to fully shift my attention back to her.
To this perfect, beautiful little girl laying on my chest.
We got the golden hour I had always dreamed about but never experienced with my boys. She stayed right there with me, skin-to-skin, calm and alert. Not long after, she latched—and I remember just being in awe of how naturally she did it. She was so peaceful, so content, just laying there on me like she had always been there.
Everything felt quiet again. After everything that had just happened, that time felt even more sacred.
Around 4:30pm, they came in to do her measurements, and we were all so surprised. She was 8 lbs 12 oz, 22 inches long! I had said at the end of my pregnancy that I knew she was going to be long, especially with where her foot would dig into my ribs— ha!
Once we were transferred to the mother and baby floor, the reality of my physical recovery really started to set in. I was honestly shocked by how much pain I was in from the overall birth and tear. I had gone into this thinking that, having had two cesareans, a vaginal recovery would feel easier in comparison—but it was such a humbling shift in perspective.
I needed a lot of help just to get out of bed and make it to the bathroom. Even those short movements felt like a huge effort, and I was moving so slowly and carefully. Walking to the bathroom felt like a challenge, and I couldn’t imagine walking any further than that.
At the same time, I was completely exhausted and ravenous. I had my husband warm up the seaweed beef soup I had made specifically for after birth, and I swear nothing has ever tasted so good!
Those first few hours were such a mix of emotions—relief, exhaustion, soreness, gratitude, and just complete awe of her.
Even with how intense those moments after birth were, I wouldn’t change any part of it.
Because in the end, we did it. She came into this world just like I had always dreamed, and she was in my arms! <3
