Moments After Birth
It’s amazing how labor felt like a twilight zone, a space between worlds. And then—just like that—Tate was in my arms, and I snapped back into a consciousness I recognized. The haze lifted, replaced by an overwhelming awareness of this sacred moment. I was holding my son. A perfect, healthy baby. My heart swelled with gratitude for the people surrounding us, each having played such a vital role in bringing him earthside. I looked at Ben—his eyes soft, his hands steady as he gazed at our son. In that instant, I watched him become a father. The most tender, gentle father.
We did it. I did it. God did it.
Exhale the tension.
Inhale all the baby smells.
But before we could fully settle in, there was one last task—birthing the placenta. A little while later, I was still lying on my back, Baby Tate curled on my chest, soaking in the warmth of his new world. I knew that nursing him could help stimulate contractions, encouraging my uterus to release the placenta. But in that moment, my mind wasn’t focused on physiology. Instead, my old athlete mentality kicked in: Let’s get this puppy out so we can enjoy our son.
I pushed, thinking I’d done it—but no, just a big blood clot. My midwife helped reposition me, and with a gentle pull on the cord and a few more pushes, the placenta finally slid free. Whoa. It was such a strange sensation, almost surreal after just delivering a whole human. But now, we were done. Closed for business. Time to let my body seal and heal.
When we were ready, Ben cut the cord, officially marking Tate’s transition to this side of life. Our midwife carefully inspected the placenta, showing us its intricate details—the organ that had sustained our baby, beautifully unique in its design. Meanwhile, I hopped into the shower, feeling the hot water wash over me, grounding me back into my body. By the time I stepped out, our bed was freshly made, the linens washed (thank goodness for two waterproof covers!), and the space reset, as if it had all been a dream.
We crawled into bed, this time as a family of three. Tate latched for the first time, instinctively seeking nourishment and comfort. My midwife completed her final checks on both of us before quietly gathering her things. She hugged us and slipped out the door, leaving us to soak in the quiet magic of this first night together.
Ben and I looked at each other, eyes heavy but hearts overflowing. We’d done it. God had done it.
At 3 a.m.—far later than our usual 8 p.m. bedtime—we finally closed our eyes, drifting into sleep with our son nestled by my side.
How incredible is God’s design? That two people could come together and create something so perfect, so full of life. What a miracle. What a gift. Praise be to Him.
We woke up the next morning, and with it, the rollercoaster of postpartum began.
Lessons from Moments After Birth
1. The Joy in the Process
Birth isn’t just about the final moment of holding your baby—it’s about every sacred step that leads there. The intensity, the surrender, the unexpected laughter, the deep connection with those around me—there was joy woven into all of it. Even in the hardest moments, there was beauty in the process.
2. No Pain Was Too Big for Me—It Was Me
The intensity of labor wasn’t something happening to me—it was me. My body. My power. My strength. The waves weren’t outside forces to fear; they were mine to ride. There was no battle between me and the pain—it was all working together to bring my baby into my arms. I didn’t need to escape it. I was it. And God made for this.
“Count it all joy” – James 1:2-4”
“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” Labor, birth, and postpartum stretched me, literally and metaphorically, but in every challenge, there was purpose. God doesn’t waste a single contraction, a single tear, or a single moment of exhaustion. He refines, strengthens, and completes us through the process. When we surrender to His work in us, even the hardest moments become a source of joy.
Lux Chiropractic 