My All-Natural, At-Home Birth Story

On September 5, 2021 I experienced the hardest, and yet most gratifying thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. 

My water broke that Sunday morning and I spent the day prepping my home with last minute things like laying down tarps and inflating my birthing pool in the middle of my room, but my contractions were still fairly manageable. I was FaceTiming my sisters from out of state. I was laughing and in good spirits while at the same time, I was peering at the portal to another world. It’s hard to really explain the feeling but I’ll try. It was as if I were living in two different dimensions at once. I was Desiree, 36, soon to be first time mother on an unknown countdown that had begun. My truest pain threshold still unknown. My deepest fears still unknown. My deepest love.

But I was also She, ageless, and fearing nothing because She trusts the unknown fully with whatever may unfold. She has limitless, timeless knowledge, passed down through the blood. She intuitively knows what would soon unfold even if I did not.

It was the calm before the storm.

My midwife paid me a home visit around 6.30p just to check on baby’s heart rate and make sure we were both okay. I knew it was going to happen soon, but we obviously didn’t know when. She was expecting me to at least get one more night to myself before Mojave would arrive. She was used to so many other first time moms, after all. She advised me to not bother filling the pool with water until we were closer to go time (aka, when I’ve called her to let her know that my contractions were getting closer together and more intense). After our checkup, she left.

I felt a little disappointed that the sun had gone down on another day without my baby in my arms, but I was also filled with a glimmer of hope that it could still be that night. I cried watching that sunset because something in my spirit knew it would be the last one I would have to watch alone, despite the fact that the day was coming to an end. By this point, the stars with glowing brightly across an open night sky and I sat outside on my porch overlooking the valley. I tried to relax a bit. Take deep breaths. Pray. Spiritually, I was still in a day-long meditation, smoking the peace pipe with She in the wigwam while She shared her wisdom of this sacred ritual of woman that was to come. Seeing a sudden handful of shooting stars jet across the night sky was my kiss from God, the Great Spirit. Within moments of seeing them, my contractions began to pick up.

It was all of an hour from when my midwife left my house, and I was going into full labor.

I was in the bathroom just sitting on the toilet because it was the only thing comfortable at that point. I was focusing on my breathing and staying in the zone. I was counting my contractions, trying to debate whether or not I was at the point, but something inside of me just knew when to reach out. I texted my midwife to let her know the recent updates of my rushes, and by my next response, I was physically unable to finish typing it. Suddenly I couldn’t move, talk or think straight. Not in a way that was scary, but in a way that was so profoundly in the moment that there was no room for thought, action or speech. Spiritually, I went deep inward. My body was shaking, a normal symptom in labor and all I could do after sending a one word text to my mom in the other room (“come”), was moan through the rushes and focus on my breathing between them.

Transition.

My mom drew me a bath because based on the recommendations of my midwife, the pool wasn’t filled. At this point, it would never be. I was going to have this baby the old-old fashioned way. My mother had taken over texting and communicating with my midwife. At this point she was telling her to get back as soon as possible. Having been a mother to 4, and now grandmother to 10 grandkids, my mother acted as my doula, until my team could get there (or at the very least, my mega helper).

I labored in the tub for the 2 hours it took my midwife to basically get home and turn around to come right back. At this point, it felt like one long rush without much downtime to function and by 10.30p, the team had arrived.

My body had already instructed me to push 3 times before then.

When they got there, they realized just how quickly things had progressed and they moved like super heroes to get everything else prepped like laying down absorbing pads in all the right places while the lead midwife checked our vitals. Nope. There would definitely not be any time to fill the pool. I didn’t care about anything but my initiation into motherhood in that very moment. There was still work to be done. I kept my focus on my breathing as much as I could between the rushes. Being at 8k elevation in the mountains, my midwife thought it would be best if I was strapped to an oxygen tank for the safety of baby, and I happily obliged. 

It took all of 45 minutes for me to move to my bed, then to the birthing stool at the side of my bed, and a few more very intense and focused pushes before Mojave was arriving, head first and in perfect position at 11.15p. 6 pounds, 14 ounces. 19 and a half inches long.

Whirlwind.

These images captured the moments after, when Mojave was weighed, measured, detached and finally, I was laid in my bed with my love for the first time. I was exhausted and elated that it was all over.

Are they top quality? Maybe not. Are they real and raw? You bet. To me, these photos are beautiful and I’ll always cherish them.

Afterward, my midwife team proceeded to tell me how much of a rock star I was for having my first child in just 4 hours.

“Can I just bottle up whatever you did so I can give it to other mothers? You rocked your birth!” she exclaimed.

Thus the creation of MojaveandWolf.com was imagined.

I want to share these parts of my life with you because I believe that if they can help even just one new mom on her journey, then I’ve done my part of contributing what I believe is such important knowledge that is getting lost in our new and fast generations. It’s the secret to all of life’s greatest questions. Knowledge passed down from She.