By Caitlin Van Hefty 
When I was eight months pregnant with my firstborn, I thought I had it all figured out. I’d read the books, attended the birthing classes, and listened to the podcasts. I crafted a cutesy birth plan handout with a very clear message for the hospital staff: a natural, intervention-free birth. Ideally, there’d be some soothing instrumental music in the background to make it all feel organic and magical. I practiced my deep breathing and yoga ball moves. I packed the essential oils. I was ready.
In reality, the complete opposite happened. I hit 39 weeks at the start of a global pandemic, just as our city entered COVID-19 lockdown. The world dove into crisis mode, and I didn’t get a wink of sleep for 10 days straight. A high blood pressure scare and extreme anxiety led to an induction, which led to over 24 hours of grueling labor. After pain meds, an epidural, and some dangerous vital sign readings, I finally signed the consent form for an emergency C-section. The procedure was rushed, chaotic, and terrifying. The NICU team waited in the background, just in case. I was at such a point of exhaustion that even now, I only remember fragmented, foggy moments of lying on that steel table.
Our beautiful and strong son was eventually extracted, and he rallied quickly, allowing everyone to take a deep breath of relief. But the birth took me weeks to recover from, abdomen and heart. My expectations had been shattered. My hope for a natural birth didn’t come to fruition, and it felt like a failure. I’d endured major surgery for the first time in my life. I went against every single little detail of the birth plan. And I wasn’t the first, second, or even third person to hold my own baby when he entered this world.
So no, the birth was not, by true definition, natural. But do you know what is natural?
It’s natural for a mother to experience complex emotions during birth and want to feel validated for each and every one of them.
It’s natural for a mother to make logical decisions out of personal integrity and a steadfast commitment to her family’s physical and mental health.
It’s natural for a mother to fight so fiercely and unapologetically for her child that she’ll do whatever is necessary to keep that child safe.
It’s natural for a mother to grieve the loss of the birth she envisioned, while simultaneously being grateful for the outcome and a healthy baby.
It’s natural for a mother to feel burdened by the pain of recovery, while also celebrating her strength and resilience with each new day of healing.
It’s natural for a mother to feel conflicted about sharing her birth story as she desperately grasps for connection while choking back the fear of judgment.
It’s natural for a mother to worry about what this experience means for her future— future birth plans, future conversations, future decisions.
And it’s natural for a mother to eventually feel deep pride when she looks down at that scar. A permanent reminder, beautifully etched across her stretched skin, of a moment when the most natural and raw form of love filled up that surgical room.
A mother says the day her baby is born is “the best day of her life.” But it’s okay if it is also one of the scariest. It’s okay if it is also one of the most unexpected. Because no matter how it happens—no matter the joy, no matter the trauma, no matter the journey—that birth will always hold a special place in her heart. It’s only natural.
by Kaleigh Christensen 
by Natalie Brenner 
by Whitney Britton 
