Rebecca’s Birth Story - “I’m so glad I trusted my instincts. That moment changed everything.”

Welcome to Spill the Tea, my birth blog series where I share real, unfiltered birth stories from moms in our community and beyond. These stories aren’t Hollywood versions of birth—they’re honest, sometimes raw, and always shared with the hope of encouraging and preparing other women.

As a Christian doula, I believe every birth—no matter how it unfolds—can be an opportunity to see God’s hand at work. Through these stories, I pray you’ll find support, courage, and faith for your own journey.

Rebecca’s birth story truly began on Christmas Eve, when two pink lines appeared and changed everything. From the start, she envisioned a natural, peaceful birth supported by warm water and calm movement. She imagined feeling weightless, surrounded by warmth, as her baby floated gently into her arms.

She also carried a family history of precipitous labors — her mom delivered quickly with all her babies — so she mentally prepared for the possibility of a fast labor too.

She hoped to deliver at the Tree of Life Birth Center, but their rooms with bathtubs were fully booked. So she moved her prenatal care to the Mary Washington Residency Clinic, where the residents became one of the highlights of her pregnancy. They were kind, curious, honest, and eager to learn. She felt seen, supported, and listened to — something she deeply valued.

With their encouragement, Rebecca entered labor feeling prepared and hopeful.

Early Labor: Calm, Focused, and Completely in Her Groove

Throughout pregnancy, Rebecca worried that her PMDD might make early labor contractions overwhelmingly intense, similar to the cramping that sometimes pinned her to the couch. She hoped she would still be able to move and cope.

Thankfully, when labor began, those fears eased. Her body stayed responsive, and she moved with her contractions naturally.

In the early morning hours, she labored at home with her husband, Lee, and her doula. She was steady and present, breathing deeply as each wave passed. They took an early curb walk to help her baby settle into position, stopping as contractions built so she could sway and breathe through the intensity.

When things picked up, her doula offered hip squeezes and some gentle myofascial release—which, from the outside, probably looked like Rebecca’s doula was jiggling her butt on the side of the road. They laughed about it later, because yes, it probably looked questionable to a neighbor. But the technique helped loosen the tension in her pelvic muscles, allowing her to keep moving comfortably.

By the time they left the house, Rebecca appeared to be moving into active labor. She arrived at the hospital grounded, steady, and hopeful.

The Shift at the Hospital

Even though Rebecca arrived in a strong rhythm, things changed quickly at the hospital.

Because she had been receiving prenatal care through the residency clinic, she assumed someone she recognized might be involved. Instead, she learned her care would be handled solely by whichever OB hospitalist was on call — someone she had never met. The realization added stress she hadn’t anticipated.

Then came the first cervical exam.

A medical intern — something never explained beforehand — performed the exam so she could practice. There was no discussion of consent, readiness, or alternatives. Rebecca didn’t know the intern was inexperienced until the exam began, and it was rough, forceful, and extremely painful.

Rebecca immediately felt violated. And when the intern told her she was 0 cm, she felt a wave of shame, as if all the work she had done at home suddenly didn’t count.

Because Rebecca has a history of sexual assault, the sudden intensity and lack of communication triggered a deep fight-or-flight response. Her contractions instantly changed — sharper, harder to manage, and more overwhelming. She felt her entire body tighten and close inward.

Later, as she and her doula reflected, they remembered a story from Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth about a woman whose cervix actually closed in response to fear and exposure to a provider she didn’t feel safe with. Rebecca wondered if something similar had happened to her. Based on how well she had been coping at home, she suspected she may have been closer to 5–6 cm, but that the shock of the exam caused her cervix to tighten.

A short while later, the OB hospitalist performed a second exam. This one was gentler and more competent, but Rebecca was already tense and bracing. The doctor found her to be 3–4 cm, confirming that the earlier “zero” had been incorrect.

The discrepancy — and the emotional impact of the first exam — left Rebecca unsettled and guarded.

The Tub: A Moment of Relief

Once admitted, Rebecca wanted to reconnect with her body after the difficult exams and emotional turbulence.

Getting into the tub made a noticeable difference.

The warm water eased the tension in her muscles, steadied her breathing, and provided the comfort she had hoped for earlier in her birth journey. Her doula kept the room quiet and supportive, and for a little while, Rebecca found a gentle rhythm again.

The tub was, without question, the most calming and centering part of her hospital labor.

But when she eventually got out and was examined again, that grounded feeling slipped away. The pain felt sharper, her body tightened, and she found it hard to return to the calm she’d briefly recaptured.

This set the stage for the next phase of her labor — discussions about Pitocin and her growing discomfort with the provider’s demeanor.

Tension With the OB Hospitalist

Around this time, the dynamic in the room shifted again.

The OB hospitalist’s demeanor was abrupt and combative. She argued with the nurse and dismissed Rebecca’s doula’s questions. When the doula asked her to review the pros and cons of Pitocin and the other interventions mentioned — simply to ensure Rebecca had clear information — the doctor responded defensively, saying it was “not her place to make medical decisions,” even though the doula had done nothing of the sort.

The tension was palpable. Rebecca felt uncomfortable, pressured, and hesitant to speak up. With her energy low and her confidence shaken, she ultimately chose the epidural and Pitocin, not because it aligned with her original goals, but because she needed a break and clarity.

Listening to Her Body — Even With an Epidural

As labor continued, the doctor became intent on breaking Rebecca’s water manually to “help things along.” By this time, nearly 24 hours had passed since her labor began.

Given her family history of precipitous labor, Rebecca had originally believed her baby would have been born long before this point. Realizing how long it had been left her feeling discouraged and defeated — as though her body wasn’t doing what she had expected or hoped for.

The nurse came in and explained that she would be bringing the doctor back shortly, instructing Rebecca not to move.

But as soon as the nurse stepped out, Rebecca felt a deep, instinctive pressure low in her pelvis — a clear signal that something needed to shift.

Even with the epidural, she could feel her baby’s position changing.

She carefully turned herself onto hands and knees, following her body’s cue.

The moment she moved, everything changed.

Her water broke spontaneously, shooting across the bed with a loud, unmistakable pop.

All three of them heard it.

Rebecca felt immediate relief and reassurance. She had listened to her instincts. She had moved exactly when her body asked her to. And because of that, she avoided an artificial rupture — a procedure that carries a higher infection risk.

It was a meaningful moment of reconnecting with her body after so many hours of discouragement.

Pushing: Tired, Unheard, and Ready to Finish

When it was finally time to push, Rebecca remembered her plan: she wanted to be in a semi-seated position using the squat bar. She and her doula had discussed this beforehand, and it felt like the right alignment for her body.

Her doula reminded her of this preference, and the nurse initially agreed to assist. Rebecca was lying on her side, so the next step was transitioning her upward.

But as the nurse began helping her roll, she abruptly said: “Stop moving — you’re in the perfect position. Stay right here.”

She did not raise the head of the bed. She did not bring out the squat bar. She did not involve Rebecca in the decision.

Rebecca froze.

Conflict is deeply uncomfortable for her, especially when she’s vulnerable. Even as her doula gently reminded the nurse that Rebecca had requested the squat bar, the nurse dismissed the plan and insisted she remain on her back.

Feeling she had no room to speak up, Rebecca stayed in the position she was placed in.

She later shared that this was one of the hardest emotional moments of her birth — knowing what she wanted, remembering it clearly, but not feeling supported enough to say it out loud. She believes that staying on her back likely contributed to her tearing.

Still, she pushed with determination, counting through each surge.

And finally — her daughter was placed on her chest.

Everything softened. It was beautiful. It was worth it.

Even though the path was difficult, meeting her daughter made every hard moment meaningful.

Postpartum: Joy, Loneliness, and Community

Rebecca has always dreamed of being a mother, and she loves it deeply. She looks forward to more children in the future.

But she also wants new mothers to know the truth: the early postpartum days can feel lonely, even when everything is going well.

She found comfort and connection in local mom and newborn groups, and she encourages every mother to join one. Both Mary Washington Hospital and Spotsylvania Regional offer supportive communities that made a real difference in her transition to motherhood.

Closing Thoughts

Rebecca’s birth didn’t unfold the way she envisioned — but it is the story she lived with honesty, intuition, courage, and grace.

She walked away more certain than ever of two truths:

1. Her body is powerful.

2. She was made to be a mother.

   
   

And when she looks at her daughter, she sees God’s faithfulness woven through every moment of her journey.

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🌿At Mamma’s Manna Doula Ministry, I offer Christian doula services in Fredericksburg, VA, providing faith-based support through pregnancy, birth, and postpartum. My heart is to walk with you through your own birth story—helping you feel informed, supported, and rooted in Christ as you welcome your baby.