The Morning that Intention and Abundance Collided to Create Magic
There are some days you know you'll remember forever. And then there are the ones that unfold so beautifully, so unexpectedly, that you find yourself wanting to bottle up every little detail.
Sunday, September 20th, was one of those days.
As I write this, Colby is one month old, sleeping peacefully on me as I try to put into words the experience of bringing our third baby into the world. I've been wanting to document his birth while the details are still fresh, and Ron and I recently sat down together to record it all. Listening back, I was reminded of just how much unfolded in those 24 hours—and how grateful I am that we get to carry this story with us.
This is the story of Colby's arrival. The messy, the magical, the unexpected, and the moments I'll hold close for the rest of my life.
Saturday, September 19 · Just before 3 p.m.
A little renovation, a little surprise
The day before Colby's birth, our plans were to wrap up a couple of home projects and maybe finalize prep for our home birth. We'd been to Home Depot and the paint store that morning, getting everything we needed to finish the job before baby boy arrived.
He wasn't technically due until September 25th, so we still had a few days.
Or so we thought.
Ronald was priming a freshly repaired wall in our living room while I was in the kitchen getting a snack for myself and the girls when I felt a trickle down my romper.
My water had broken.
This had never happened with our other two babies, so I wasn't entirely sure what to expect. I'd always imagined that your water broke and then labour began, but in our case, the water kept coming. For the next seven hours or so, I continued to leak amniotic fluid while contractions took their time getting started.
We let our friend and doula, Lia, know what was happening and checked in with our wonderful midwife, Karianne. She advised us to keep an eye on the fluid, monitor baby's movements, and watch for a fever. Contractions could still take a while to begin (potentially up to 4 days!!) , so for the time being, we were to wait and see.
And so, we carried on.
Ron finished preparing the wall and ran out to get groceries because our fridge was looking pretty sad for a household potentially about to welcome a whole team of birth attendants. I played games with the girls, and changed outfits more times than I can count as the amniotic fluid continued to leak.
At one point, we were asked whether we could collect a sample of the fluid. Ronald came home from the grocery store, found me playing with the girls on the living room floor, and watched me get up and start leaking again.
He ran to the kitchen for a mason jar.
And, well, we managed to collect a pretty impressive amount.
Apparently, Karianne was suitably impressed when she arrived at our house the following morning.
It's not necessarily the part of birth preparation you see on Pinterest, but it's certainly a detail we'll never forget.
Saturday evening · After dinner
Preparing for whatever came next
As the afternoon turned into evening, we started thinking about the girls.
We knew that labour most commonly begins overnight, and we wanted to keep things as calm and comfortable as possible for everyone. Grammie came to collect Delaney and Georgia for a sleepover, which meant they could have a restful evening with her while we had the house to ourselves.
By then, we'd spent the day getting ready for Colby's arrival. We'd disinfected the house after a week of illness, stocked the fridge, prepared the birth supplies, and tried to get everything in order.
I'd actually been pretty sick with gastro the day before, so it had been a full-on few days.
Still, there was something grounding about knowing that the practical pieces were in place. The supplies were ready. The house was prepared. The people we wanted around us knew what was happening.
All we could do now was wait for our baby.
I went to bed around 10 p.m., with contractions just beginning.
Sunday, September 20 · Around 2 a.m.
Candlelight, contractions, and a little time to myself
By around 2 a.m., the contractions had picked up enough that I no longer wanted to be in bed.
I needed to move.
So I quietly made my way into the living room, lit some tea lights, brought out the yoga ball, and put on an Ocie Elliott album.
There I was, in the middle of the night, sitting in our living room by candlelight, listening to one of my favourite albums, feeling contractions as I got ready to meet you, sweet boy.
It was calm. It was peaceful. It was beautiful.
I remember how happy that part of the night makes me feel when I think back on it. The house was quiet, the girls were safe and sleeping at my mum’s, and I had this little pocket of time to myself before everything changed.
Eventually, though, I was tired of being alone and called out to wake up my husband.
Ronald came to support me, and together we continued working through the contractions, trying different positions and doing what I could to stay comfortable.
Sunday morning · Around 5–6 a.m.
Things start to pick up
As the sun began to rise, my contractions became more consistent.
I moved to the bathroom and sat backwards on the toilet, which is often affectionately referred to as the dilation station. It was cool and dark, and I remember hoping that the contractions would keep progressing rather than fade with daylight.
We started timing them again. They were around five minutes apart, lasting close to a minute, and becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
At around 5 a.m., I texted Lia to let her know what was happening. By 6 a.m., we hopped on a call with her, and she could hear from my breathing and the sounds I was making over speaker phone that things were progressing.
She said she'd be over in about 45 minutes to an hour.
We also checked in with Karianne.
Until then, it had mostly been the two of us working through the experience together.
We used pressure points, acupressure balls, the yoga ball, and different positions to help me manage the intensity. We were finding our rhythm, figuring out what felt good, and taking things one contraction at a time.
And then Lia quietly joined us.
Sunday morning · Around 7:45 a.m.
Our people arrive
Having Lia walk through the door was such a relief.
She jumped straight in, offering encouragement, helping me move into different positions, and supporting both of us through the next stage of labour. She also made sure Ronald took breaks when he needed them.
Not long after, Karianne and the midwifery team arrived.
Our bedroom was prepared as the birth space. We'd set up fresh bedding protected by plastic sheets, yoga mat’s at the foot of the bed, tea lights, crystals, and a wall of affirmations and some special artwork by my daughter Delaney. There were reminders about breathing and different positions.
I had a vision for this space. I wanted it to feel calm, familiar, and safe. I wanted to be surrounded by things that meant something to me, in the place where I could relax into the experience as much as possible.
As the midwives got settled and prepared their equipment, we moved into Delaney and Georgia's bedroom for a while.
The morning light was streaming into their room, and it was such a beautiful place to be. For a little while, it was just Ronald, Lia, and me, with Mathilde a student midwife joining us to check the baby's heartbeat and my vitals.
Labour was becoming more intense, but we were surrounded by people who knew us, cared about us, and were there to help us bring our baby into the world in the way we envisioned.
Sunday morning · Around 9:45 a.m.
Trusting the process
At some point, Ron stepped outside for a break and finally had the chance to eat breakfast.
He remembers standing on the front deck with a bowl of cereal, gathering his thoughts in the quiet of a Sunday morning while I was inside doing some very hard work.
I remember being less enthusiastic about this little breakfast break.
I had a feeling that things were about to change, and I didn't particularly want him far away from me.
Thankfully, he wasn't gone long.
When he came back, it was agreed to have a cervical exam.
I'd been putting it off because I was worried about finding out that I wasn't as far along as I'd hoped. I'd experienced that disappointment with Georgia, (my first VBAC) when things had slowed down after an exam, and I didn't want to get into my head about the numbers this time.
But we decided it was time to check.
I was around five centimetres dilated, fully effaced, and Colby was in a good position and engaged.
It was encouraging news, although I had secretly hoped to hear that I was further along.
I had to work through that disappointment and remind myself that labour isn't a race. My body was doing what it needed to do, and we were moving in the right direction.
I chose to stay positive and keep trusting the process.
I remember thinking that we had everyone we needed around us. That we were being looked after. That we were going to get through this and that, ultimately, we were going to be okay.
That thought brought me a lot of comfort.
Sunday morning · Around 10 a.m.
The moment everything changed
After the cervical exam, the contractions became much more intense.
Leah suggested I sit on the birthing stool. It wasn't the most enjoyable position, but I knew the discomfort could help things progress, so I stayed with it.
For a while, it was just Ronald and me on the floor at the foot of our bed.
Everyone else took a little break, and we continued working through the contractions together.
Then something shifted.
The contractions were no longer simply something I was working through. My body began pushing involuntarily, and it became clear that Colby was getting close.
There wasn't much time to think about anything beyond what was happening in front of me.
The midwives came back into the room. I leaned over the yoga ball, with Lia holding my hands and helping me through each contraction.
Ronald and Mathilde were behind me, and the rest of the midwifery team gathered around us.
The room we'd spent so much time preparing was now exactly what it needed to be: a place where I could focus on the work of bringing our baby into the world.
Sunday, September 20 · 11:26 a.m.
Welcome to the world, sweet boy
From just before 11 a.m. until 11:26 a.m., everything moved quickly.
It was intense. It was hard work. But Colby was coming.
Ronald was positioned behind me with Mathilde, who was checking Colby's heart rate after each contraction. His job was to be ready to catch our baby.
He remembers watching the midwives' reactions as each push brought Colby closer. He could see the top of Colby's head begin to appear, followed by his eyes and nose.
Then his head was out.
With Mathilde's help, Ronald guided Colby's shoulders, and the rest of his little body came straight into his hands.
He caught our baby.
He was crying.
And Colby was here.
The midwives wrapped him in receiving blankets to keep him warm, and I remember the overwhelming relief of knowing that he was finally out and in our hands.
After everything my body had just done, there was this incredible sense of release.
And then came one of my favourite moments.
Karianne asked me to sit up. I wasn't quite sure what she meant because I knew Ronald was holding Colby right behind me.
But as I sat up, and leaned back into my partner’s arms there he was.
My gorgeous boy, right between my legs, looking up at me.
The three of us, finally together.
It was the best moment ever.
Late morning · Our first hours together
Exactly where we were meant to be
After Colby's birth, we got to slow down.
We held him, looked at him, and took in every little detail. We got comfortable in our bed together, surrounded by snacks, drinks, and all the little things that make those first hours feel a little more manageable.
We continued with the necessary checks and care, and Colby stayed close to me. He wanted to nurse, and he latched right away.
There was something so reassuring about those first moments of feeding him, feeling his little body against mine, and beginning to understand that he was really here.
Ronald and I were completely blissed out.
We had done it.
Our baby had arrived in our home, surrounded by love, with the support of our doula and midwifery team. We had been able to move through labour in our own space, with the people we trusted and the environment we'd prepared.
And as we lay there together, it felt so clear.
This was exactly what we were meant to do.
Our home birth had been everything we'd hoped for and more.
One month with you, Colby
As I sit here writing this, you're one month old, sleeping on me just as you were when we recorded this story.
I'm trying to hold on to the little details because I know how quickly they become fuzzy around the edges. The candlelight. The music. The morning sun. Ronald's bowl of cereal on the front deck. The way my body took over. The moment he caught you. The first time I sat up and saw you in his hands.
And the feeling of having you here.
Birth is such a profound experience, and every one of our babies has brought us into a different version of ourselves. This time, we were welcoming our third child, with two little girls already woven into the fabric of our family.
We knew more than we did the first time around. We had our own history, our own expectations, and our own understanding of what mattered to us.
But there was still so much we couldn't predict.
I'm grateful that we had the freedom to make decisions that felt right for our family, the support of people who helped us feel safe, and the opportunity to welcome Colby in a way that felt deeply aligned with what we wanted.
Most of all, I'm grateful for the people who were there with us and for Ronald, who was beside me through it all.
Colby, you arrived on a Sunday morning, a little earlier than expected, while the dappled sunlight streamed through our windows.
You are so wanted. So loved. And you make our family feel a little more complete.
We love you, sweet boy.
