Moms are Warriors: A Birth Story

*First guest post, beautifully written by my friend and fellow warrior mama, Elizabeth Malan*

I’ve dreamed and planned for two homebirths.


Twice I got to 10 centimeters at home.

Twice my babies spun themselves into tricky positions.

Twice I transferred to a hospital.

Twice I had a cesarean section.

In the natural birth world we refer to this as a homebirth cesarean or HBC.

It feels like defeat, heartbreak, shame.

I know so many will not understand these feelings because I came home with two perfect babies. Hear me when I say, you can be weeping with joy and sobbing with despair at the same time. Babies will do that to you and so will broken dreams…

But there is beauty in the broken things. “Bless the thing that broke you down and cracked you open, because the world needs you open.”

The beauty in my broken plans continues to be letting go and allowing others to hold space for me. When I had nothing to offer and nothing left to give, Tristan (my husband) and Clover (my daughter) were there. I cried out to God and later, sitting in the hospital, Tristan and I talked about seeing Him in our daughters eyes, in her strength and in her compassion that day. It was the most amazing display of love.

We just celebrated my daughters third birthday and will be celebrating my sons first birthday in a few days.I am forever changed by their births, but isn’t that part of the process? A line in the sand. My children’s births taught me to find calm in the chaos and strength in the mess. I’m a better person and a better mama because, through their births, I found my voice.

I just SO deeply want all women to feel HEARD throughout their pregnancy, labor and birth. My midwives are angels. With Clover’s birth and Bishop’s. They just listened and heard and loved and loved. They honored and respected me in the most beautiful way, during some of my most vulnerable times. These women rejoiced with me and cried with me and are forever woven into my journey of becoming a mother.

We all have stories to share; words give life. Healing and growing are not linear. Share your stories and if someone is vulnerable enough to share their story with you, listen.

This is about owning my story and honoring the life I have given…


// In my deepest wound I saw Your glory and it astounded me

Photos by Jessie Fultz Photography

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