Birthing From Within

A story on motherhood by Rebecca Pleitez

I’ll preface by saying that motherhood is a lot of things, illuminating and inspiring, yet painful and beautiful, and oftentimes, misunderstood.

This Mother’s Day, I want to share what my journey has been like, as I have actively and intentionally, chosen a path less traveled, but a path that women are returning to. A path of unmedicated birth, of birthing from within, in the comfort of home or a birth center, and for me, surrounded by my partner and family.

There is a rawness to childbirth that is often hidden, often untold. I want to share that with you because as women — we are strong, we are resilient and we are life givers, and it looks different, for all of us. This is my journey.

I come from a family of strong women.

I’m surrounded by extraordinary women. The people who have really helped me in life, who have propelled me forward, have all been women. They have been present for every important aspect and decision of my life, including childbirth.

When I found out I was pregnant with my first son, I knew that I wanted to experience and document my own power, to birth from within. More than anything, I wanted to reclaim birth as a normal, natural, and sacred part of life. Culturally, we are wired to accept fearful misconceptions about childbirth and labor. We are exposed to images that have a tendency to glorify and over-dramatize childbirth. As someone who has given birth to four children in five years, I can assure you that active labor does not always begin with a gush of water. It begins when a woman’s body is ready to experience and accept the sacred work of creation and expulsion.

Birthing a child is, in essence, beautiful, overwhelming, and deeply emotional — often in the same breath.

I chose to have all of my children at a birth center because I wanted to experience minimal medical interruptions. I knew that a hospital setting was not for me because I did not want to indulge in fluorescent lights, wires, tubes, strangers, routine fetal monitoring and IVs, and beeping machines. Instead, I wanted a homey, low-tech birthing option, free of western medicine interventions, under the incredible care of midwives.

All of my labors have been unmedicated.

This is not to say that labor with pain-reducing drugs is any less of an amazing accomplishment. However, as a runner, it became important to me to approach childbirth like a marathon, starting with an open mindset and with the idea that I would experience the inevitable raw pain. I had a plan, but the course could look different once the race began, and I had to be ready to face the unknown. I could, at any point, falter or be unable to withstand the pain. And in the midst of it all, approach the finish line surrounded by a circle of supporters with the sight of a baby in my arms. Approaching the finish line, was and is, not just about the achievement, it’s about a mindset that says anything is possible.

When I think about my labors, my mind floods with vivid memories and my heart races with all the emotions.

My body can still feel the depth of the pain as I am transcended to a place that is both delicate and brash, and envelops the miracle of life. I see my ancestors and matriarchs of my family — my mother, tias, grandmothers, and grandmothers of grandmothers, all who came before me with a strong purpose to mark their place in history. If they did it, I could too. It is because of them that I am. It is their energy that brought presence and meaning to my labors. It is their presence that allowed me to develop confidence and trust my inner wisdom to allow nature to do its thing. This profound connection and visualization to other women was a turning point during labor. These fearless women helped me face my fears by building mental resilience and feeding my heart and mind only with affirmations that served me. It is true that a woman’s mind and body is imbued and strengthened by spiritual energy and guidance, and a healthy dose of discipline.

When I hit a mental wall, I saw myself reach deep inside for strength to break through my own mental and physical limitations.

I brought myself to a place where I pictured myself running the course, up a hill, about to give up, throw a towel, call it quits. And without giving another thought, I pushed and pushed, and powered through that mountainous terrain where my tribe was waiting atop to embrace me.

There were moments I saw myself climbing, walking, stumbling. Then I would have a quiet moment, a supportive touch from my other cildren, an encouraging word from my tribe, a silent sigh, as I worked through contractions. I listened to my body, took moments to nourish, honor, hold space for, respect, and support my body and its powerful capabilities. Nurturing the last few moments of the loving, joyful relationship with my womb, knowing that soon a new life would grow in the space between my partner and I, was overwhelming.

Birthing a child is the story of extraordinary glory and pain. It is the toughest and most painful thing I’ve ever experienced, and also the most wonderful feeling in the world.

My battle stripes tell the story of all the babies I’ve been blessed to grow. They tell my spiritual journey. I have a public health background, but the spiritual nature of childbirth came to life for me with my children.

Getting to a place where I felt peace in my heart opened the spiritual valves and mental determination needed to get to the finish line. I was determined and excited. I trusted me. I trusted my babies. I trusted the process knowing that my baby needed to be born the way he/she wanted to, not necessarily the way I wanted him/her to, regardless of what I did. I trusted that magical moment I had visualized so many nights.

And I realized that the making of a family does not happen at the actual moment of birth. It is ongoing, it happens again and again. It is hard work becoming human, making bonds, helping form little souls, but it’s worth its weight in love and presence.

I am thankful to the women in my life. Mothers need elders and a tribe to navigate motherhood, because motherhood is not a one-woman show.

I hope my journey helps inform your decision on the path you choose to take.