Charity's Birth Story

It was a muggy July evening. My home was heavy with moist heat that made my perspiring skin shine. Despite the thickness of the air I felt light, detached. I softly floated off to dreamland, filled with images of a sweet, soft girl, tightly snuggled against my breast. An hour later I was awakened to the sharpness of my busy uterus flexing, releasing, and then flexing again. I’d had sensations like this before; after making love, working hard, or sitting in a cramped position. I assured myself that tonight was not the night, and then concentrated on the image of my beautiful baby again. More flexing, releasing, flexing again. I knew how to soothe the intensity. I rolled toward my sleepy husband and whispered that I would be in the bath; he could sleep if he wanted.
The hot water instantly calmed me. I scooped it up in my cupped hand and washed it over my ripe belly. My husband soon joined me, a look of concern crossing his brow. “Do you want me to call your sisters?” he asked. I pondered the question and discovered that I just didn’t know. I wasn’t sure how to release the tension that squeezed at my belly, my hips, my thighs, and my back. “I guess so,” I answered hesitantly. When my three older sisters arrived I felt relieved, confident. They brought wisdom, experience, and power. We sat close together on the couches in my tiny living room. We talked about what I was feeling and compared it to how they had felt. We laughed. With each tightening of my uterus the room fell silent. The concentrated effort was not mine alone. I could feel my husband and sisters meditating with me.
A few hours later we called my midwife. My husband began to fill our birthing tub with warm water. When it was filled, we sat together in the tub. Each time I felt my tummy tighten my husband would push harder into my back. The pressure took the focus away from my pain. Low, primal sounds came from my throat, opening my cervix and giving me control. When I felt uncertain I would look into the eyes of my beautiful and wise midwife. I saw steady confidence in them. She told me to reach down and feel the bag of waters surrounding my baby. It soon burst and I could feel her soft head covered with fine hair. I felt my bones shifting to make room for her.
At the most intense moment I remembered that I was not alone. I believe in a loving God who is intimately involved in the details of my life. I called on him for assurance and instantly received it. I knew that women had been giving birth this way since Mother Eve. My body was divinely designed to provide bodies for God’s spirit children.
After only ten minutes of all-consuming pushing my daughter was born. I felt so contented, restored, and gratified. Although I was surrounded by my mother-in-law and two sisters-in-law, my own mother and three sisters, my 4 month old nephew, whose birth I had attended, and my midwife and her assistant, I could see no one but my beautiful Charity. I heard the sobs of joy from my husband as he encircled us in his loving arms. Charity Lucille Barlow was born on July 11th, 2003 at 7:37 a.m. in my home in Orem, Utah. She weighed 7 lbs. 10 oz. and was 20.5 inches long.