Labor and Birth
SLAP—there it was. My mucus plug had made its dramatic exit. It was not like the little snot-looking thing you see in pictures. No, this was thick, gel-like, and enormous. There was no mistaking what this was. I called my husband in and, naturally, had him take a picture of the plug. We got excited together. He asked, “Does this mean you’re having the baby soon?” I explained that while some women lose their mucus plug right before labor, others lose it weeks beforehand. Still, we both hoped this was the former.
That night, I woke up at 10 p.m. with a jolt. Whoa, THAT was a contraction. By midnight, they started coming more frequently, and the intensity was building. Unable to stay in bed, I moved to the living room to try to get more comfortable. By 4 a.m., my husband came out to check on me. I told him, “Don’t go to work today. We’re having this baby!” By 5 a.m., my contractions were a steady minute long every five minutes. When the sun rose, though, they slowed down.
We took a morning walk and made a Publix run for some fresh pineapple. I had to stop frequently for contractions, so we cut it short and headed home. I decided to watch a familiar movie to distract myself. My husband had never seen Bridesmaids, so we turned it on. As my contractions climbed in intensity, I began feeling more and more back pain. It wasn’t just any back pain; it felt like the old injuries from soccer and volleyball were flaring up. I couldn’t tell if it was back labor or irritation from scar tissue, but either way, it was relentless.
Throughout the movie, I alternated between sitting on the birthing ball and being on all fours. At one point, I rushed to the bathroom, expecting to throw up, but it never happened. By the end of the movie, my husband had started timing the contractions more diligently. He wanted to call for reinforcements, feeling the time was near. We called our doula and then the midwife. About an hour later, our doula walked through the door.
Earlier in my pregnancy, I’d asked my husband if he thought I’d be loud during labor or quiet and serene. It was definitely not the latter. I wasn’t shy about finding my deep vocal tones and letting them resonate through my body. My doula suggested it was time to fill up the birthing tub. While she and my husband prepared it, I swayed in the birthing swing hanging from our door. This is where time began to warp. The contractions were intense, but the most challenging part was the constant back pain. It felt never-ending because I never got a break between contractions. My husband’s calming presence was invaluable, but I couldn’t bear to be touched. I was overstimulated and just needed him nearby.
When I finally got into the warm tub, it was such a relief! The stabbing back pain dulled, and I felt a little more in control. Switching positions in the water helped take the edge off. But after some time, I started to shiver as the water cooled, and my contractions began to slow. I decided to hop in the shower to warm up. Afterward, I walked around the house, eventually noticing the midwife had arrived. She’d brought her backup midwife, just in case. I felt like I scored the perfect birth team for me.
Back in my bedroom, my doula noticed I was stuck emotionally. She gently asked, “What are you afraid of? What’s holding you back?” I’m so thankful she’s a dear friend who knows me well. She saw right through me. I shared I was afraid of not making progress, of being exhausted and stuck in this cycle of pain. I feared I wasn’t dilating enough and might have to transfer to the hospital. She reassured me, “Oh great, we can work through that.” Her confidence took me by surprise and immediately it shifted my demeanor.
She then shared a story I’ll never forget. One of my patients, who was also her client, just weeks ago stood her ground against her birth provider insisting she shouldn’t go past 39 weeks. Without hesitation, this woman boldly replied, “Well, my chiropractor is past 42 weeks pregnant!” My doula recounted how my own story had inspired this patient to trust her body and advocate for herself.
Hearing this took my breath away and it still brings me to tears. In the midst of my labor, as I wrestled with my own doubts, my patient’s courage and confidence became a beacon of encouragement for me. What an incredible full-circle moment—here I was, inspiring her to trust her body, and now, through her story, she was inspiring me right back to trust mine. Thank you sweet mama. Your words are far-reaching.
That moment was a divine reminder: my body was designed to do this. God had equipped me perfectly to grow, carry, and birth my baby. My doula’s words brought me back to that truth and filled me with renewed strength and determination. It was beautiful, empowering, and exactly what I needed to press forward.
After some discussion, I asked my midwife for a cervical check. I needed to know where I stood. I was aware that cervical dilation is not an indication of how fast labor could progress from there but still, I wanted a tangible number. I hoped for at least 6 cm, fearing I’d feel defeated if I was 5 cm or less. When she checked, I was indeed 5 cm dilated. My midwife explained that my water hadn’t broken and there was a large bulge of fluid. Baby T’s head wasn’t pressing directly on my cervix, which was likely stalling dilation. She reassured me that once my water broke, the baby would drop, and my body would progress more easily.
I became determined. I visualized the goal and set my mind to breaking that water. I knew sitting on the toilet—the “dilation station”—was my best chance. Though it had previously aggravated my back pain, I braced myself and sat down during the next contraction. SPLASH! I yelled, “Did you hear that?!” Everyone outside the bathroom cheered. It sounded like a tsunami had crashed into our home.
With my water broken, contractions ramped up quickly and intensely. I stepped outside for fresh air. It was dark, but I had no idea what time it was—nor did I care. Back in the tub, the warm water provided some more relief. Then it happened: my body began to push. I couldn’t believe how fast I’d progressed from 5 cm to this point.
After some time, I felt like Baby T wasn’t making enough progress. I hopped out of the tub and my midwife noticed bright red blood and suspected a cervical lip was preventing the baby from descending fully. She asked for consent to help move it during the next contraction. The pain was sharp but effective. Baby T’s head finally engaged, and progress resumed.
I moved to the bed, lying on my right side. My doula held my leg while I focused on visualizing Baby T enter the world as my body pushed. My husband was ready to catch the baby, while my midwife monitored both of us. The other midwife held my hand, maintaining eye contact. That simple act made me feel so seen and cared for in the midst of this intense moment. Her gaze validated my strength, my pain, and the beauty of this process.
With each push, Baby T made progress. At the end of each push, I’d stop, fearing I might tear. Baby T kept sliding back, but I realized this was my body’s way of stretching gradually to prevent damage. I was so encouraged by my body doing exactly what it needed to. Slow and steady allowed me to have minimal tearing. Finally, sheer determination took over. Enough slow and steady, it was time. With the next push, Baby T’s head emerged. My husband can tell you what that looked like! I felt a tug and for a brief moment felt distraught, but my midwife reassured me it was the baby’s reflexes helping baby’s self out, no one was pulling or assisting.
A few more pushes, and baby slipped right into Ben’s hands. What a catch! My midwife unwrapped the cord—three times around the neck and twice around the body—and placed Baby T on my chest. “Babe, is it a boy or girl?” I asked Ben. With soft eyes and a huge smile, he said, “It’s a boy!”
Tate Austin, welcome to the world!
Lessons from Labor and Birth
1. We Are All Human and Need Encouragement
Even as a chiropractor and someone deeply connected to the birth world, I needed support, reassurance, and reminders of my own strength. Labor is a vulnerable, raw, and beautiful experience that humbles you. It showed me how powerful encouragement can be, whether it’s from a doula’s calming confidence, a midwife’s steady presence, or the full-circle inspiration of another mama’s journey. Don’t underestimate the impact of someone believing in you—it can completely shift your mindset.
2. Know Your Options and Trust Your Instincts
Every decision during labor felt empowered because I knew my options. Whether it was asking for a cervical check, deciding how to break my water, or choosing positions that felt right for my body, I trusted myself. Informed choices paired with instinctive trust in my body and baby were the keys to navigating each moment with confidence. Birth is unpredictable, but when you’re equipped with knowledge and listen to your intuition, you’ll feel prepared to adapt.
3. When You Need Help, Ask for It
There’s incredible strength in asking for help when you need it. During labor, I relied on my birth team to guide and support me. My doula’s words helped me release fear. My midwife’s hands helped my baby descend. My husband’s unwavering presence reminded me I wasn’t alone. Labor isn’t a solo journey—it’s okay to lean on others and accept their help. It’s not a sign of weakness; it’s an acknowledgment of the beauty of community in such a transformative experience.
Labor taught me about the strength of the human body, the resilience of the human spirit, and the power of connection. These lessons extended far beyond the birth itself and are reminders I’ll carry with me always.
Lux Chiropractic 