10/13/2025
✨ Beau’s Birth Story 🤍
On the morning of 38 weeks + 5 days, Beau’s dad looked at me and said, “We should have our baby today.” Something in me just knew he was right.
By afternoon, contractions began — soft, rhythmic waves. We walked, I bounced on my birth ball, and the day unfolded gently until dinner, when we headed to my grandparents’ house — the place where I had always felt safest, and where our son would take his first breath.
Early labour was slow and sweet — we played cards with my grandparents, laughed between contractions, and walked to the nearby school under the evening sky. By 8pm, things deepened. My doula arrived, offering those heavenly hip squeezes while my mom and grandma sat beside me, feeding me snacks and love. Three women, circling together, waiting for the next little life to arrive.
Hours passed in rhythm and surrender — swaying, walking, breathing. By midnight, I was deep in the work. The world grew quiet, my senses sharpened, and I entered the sacred zone where logic disappears and instinct takes over.
I laboured in the water, affirmations + music playing softly. When doubt crept in — “I can’t do this” — I reminded myself: “Think of all the women who have birthed before you. Think of all the women birthing with you now.”
And then it happened — the urge to push, the primal release, and at 3:44am, our baby boy slipped into the water and into our arms.
Beau 🤍
Born in the home where I grew up, surrounded by love, lineage, and laughter.
Afterwards, he crawled to my breast and latched on his own. Upstairs, our family cheered, cried, and celebrated with champagne.
A birth not just of a baby, but of a mother.
A night I’ll carry in my heart forever.
