It all began after I gave birth to my first daughter. I often say that each birth has taught me something new—and that first one showed me everything I didn’t want to experience again. I went into labor unprepared, afraid, and completely unaware of what to expect. Birth felt like something that just “happened to me,” and that left me feeling powerless.

That experience lit a fire in me. I dove into every bit of birth education I could afford, determined that next time would be different. When I got pregnant again, I set my sights on having an unmedicated labor. Through mental preparation and learning how my body was designed to work, I did it. I made it through that birth feeling stronger—but still, something was missing.

While my second birth was much better than my first (which was an induction with an epidural), I longed for something deeper. I wanted to birth on my terms. I didn’t want to be told to lie down, when to push, or how to move. I wanted to feel in control of my body and fully present in the process.

Before I even got pregnant with my third, I quietly began researching homebirth. I hadn’t even told my husband yet—I just felt a tug in my heart. When I finally brought it up to him, he was scared. Understandably so. All he knew was the typical hospital experience. But after lots of prayer, learning, and letting go of fear, he came to trust that I was listening to God and to my body. We said yes to homebirth—and it brought our family closer in ways I never expected.

Pregnancy isn’t just about growing a baby. It’s about growing in faith, surrender, and gratitude. It’s a time of leaning hard into God and letting Him shape your heart. And for me, that homebirth was beautiful.

The funny thing is—I thought the birth would be the main lesson. But the deeper impact came in the moments after. In those tender hours, and throughout my labor, I was surrounded by the most incredible support system. Women I invited into my space, each one holding me in their own way:

• My daughter, cheering me on through each surge

• My midwife, caring for me and baby throughout, reassuring me I was doing perfect listening to my body, and gently feeding me while I fed my baby for the first time

• My best friend, holding my hand through a tough moment of blood loss

• Another dear friend, taking my birth photos and giving me encouragement

• My mother-in-law, caring for my other children and every little need

• My mom, serving me before and after birth, and staying with us for weeks into postpartum

They may not all be in the photos, but their care is etched in my heart forever. That kind of love, that kind of presence—it changed me. I realized it wasn’t just the setting that made my birth so special. It was the support I had through it all.

During those first few days of recovery, I felt a deep stirring in my spirit. I couldn’t shake the thought: “This is how all women deserve to be cared for.” I knew God was calling me to walk alongside other women through pregnancy, birth, and postpartum.

And that brings me to today.

I’m currently finishing my doula training through Pain Free Birth, and I’ll be certified by the end of May. But honestly? I believe it doesn’t take a certificate to be a good doula. It takes a servant’s heart. A peaceful presence. A woman who shows up with strength and compassion.

That’s what I want to bring to you.

The world has taught us to fear birth—to dread the pain and try to escape it. But when we understand how God designed birth, everything changes. We begin to see the beauty in each sensation. The purpose in each moment.

What if we stopped fearing birth and started welcoming it?

What if we invited each wave with trust, knowing that birth was designed for us and for our babies?

I’d love to walk with you through this sacred journey. To show you how birth can be an act of worship. To help you work with your body and your baby to create a peaceful, empowering experience.

You were made for this, mama. Let’s walk it together.