Kayla is a mama of two and blogger over at Renown and Crowned. We were blessed to have her share her story with us during her birth. It was so beautiful to read through, and we hope it encourages your heart to seek the Lord for direction above all on where and how to birth. Sometimes our choices for birth don’t make sense to those around us, but as we talked about last week in our Verse of the Week, we must seek God’s approval over man’s (Galatians 1:10). This Birth Testimony reminds us that even when birth takes a emergency turn, God isn’t surprised. When an unexpected NICU stay is needed, God already knew. We can trust Him, regardless of what happens during birth.

Kayla’s Testimony

October 12. That was the day my baby was supposed to be here, officially. But baby tarried. And waited. And stalled. At least, that’s what it felt like. We anticipated baby’s arrival and discovering whether our second child would be a son or daughter. My mom had come on October 12, eager to not miss any of the action since she lives 12 hours away. And then we all waited. For 12 long days, we waited.

Then, on day 13 past the estimated due date, true contractions initiated. Toning contractions ebbed and flowed from week 37, but this was actually “the real deal.” And I thought I was making it all up.

Contractions started around noon. Since our 2 year old goes down for a nap after lunch, I decided to wait until that had been accomplished before timing contractions so I could concentrate. At 2pm, they were 5 minutes apart, 40 seconds strong. I was drawn to water to relieve some back labor discomfort, which was when I finally contacted my midwife to let her know this seemed to be some progress. I stood in the shower for 20 minutes as my husband attempted a nap of his own. Each time I tried to get out of the water, another contraction would come, and I would wait under the water for another break. Finally, I told myself I must get out and move on.

The text from my midwife said she would not make any decision about heading my way until she heard more from me, so I called her. She likes to hear how a mom’s doing as part of her assessment of progress. Me? Well … I talked through the two contractions I had. She said to let her know if my water broke or anything else happened. She would come quickly, but she still had a few things to gather.

3:15pm. I went in to the bedroom and woke my husband. “Uh, sorry honey. No nap this afternoon!” He quickly got up to help me get comfortable, and my mom came to the rescue with a heating pad. I had learned that laboring on your side could help reserve energy for the pushing phase without inhibiting progress like laying on your back does. So I assumed this position. My husband kneeled next to me and allowed me to squeeze his hand with each contraction. I heeded my midwife’s warning to not push before the right time by saying to my husband and baby over and over, “Don’t push! Wait, baby, it’s not time yet.” (Breech babies often create an urge to push before mom is fully dilated, which can increase the possibility of complications.)

3:30pm. My water broke. My husband called the midwife, and she jumped in her car. Since she lived 30-45 minutes away, she sent her apprentice over to begin recording the chart. It wasn’t long before she arrived, since she lives less than 2 miles from us. At this point, the phrases we spoke to each other shifted to “Don’t push” and “No pain.”

As I prepared for the previous pregnancy, a friend had introduced me to the book Supernatural Childbirth by Jackie Mize. She discusses how pain is under the Curse (see Gen. 3) and how Christ has redeemed us from the Curse (Gal. 3:13). Contractions aren’t necessarily painful; they are muscles flexing to perform their job. But God meets us where our faith is, and He grows us through it. Since we trusted God for a pain free birth, even in the midst of the uncertainty of breech, we reminded each other of that faith with the simple phrase, “No pain.”

My midwife arrived in much less than 45 minutes, at least from my own perception of time. After she checked dilation through a couple of contractions, she gave me the go-ahead to push. I opted to do so from the floor, leaning against the bed. Little feet, bottom, and umbilicus came fairly quickly and easily. After that, though, I began to lose my focus. Pushing is much harder when the head comes last because there is less pressure helping the baby along. My typically hands-off midwife helped get the baby’s arms out and then it became imperative that his head come soon.

I tried and tried to push. A very real sense of helplessness overwhelmed me as I couldn’t determine which muscles to engage. I cried real tears and internally cried out in my helplessness to the Only One who could truly intervene. My midwife attempted to help the baby’s head turn but it turned back and would not come. She sensed the danger for the baby and told my parents to call 911. Finally, she was able to deliver him at 4:29pm. Almost one hour after my water broke.

My sweet baby boy. While his head was stuck, he inhaled more fluid than my midwife could suction. I engaged in spiritual warfare on my son’s behalf as he lay on the bed in front of me, binding the spirit of death. My midwife continued to resuscitate him, and my husband spoke his name. Adoniram Tobias, meaning The Lord is Exalted, God is good. Adam, for short. “Oh,” said the midwife’s apprentice. “Like Adam – the first man God gave breath.” My heart rejoiced to think that we had chosen this name for him long before we met him and knew he was a “he,” long before this part of his story unfolded.

By the time the EMS team arrived, he was breathing spontaneously, but he had always had a heartbeat. The Lord sustained his life for His glory. He spent 9 days in the NICU to be monitored for any brain or internal organ damage from the lack of oxygen. He left the NICU with no sign of anything having gone awry.


When we determined that we would go forward with a homebirth even though we knew Adoniram was breech, we trusted that God was leading us to make that choice for His glory. It wasn’t something we shared in advance with many people, knowing that hype and panic would only complicate our desire to walk by faith, not by sight. We learned so much, not only with his birth, but also in being the NICU mom I never thought I would be. Compassion, sensitivity, a listening ear, gratitude. God grew me in many ways with each tear I shed as I went to sleep those first 7 nights without my baby in close proximity. He wants every part of us, even something so common as our birth stories, to bring Him the most glory possible. The question is … are we willing?


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