I thought we were very prepared for the birth of our first child. I paid close attention to what I ate, I exercised up to the morning I went into labor and took natural childbirth classes. We were educated and prepared mentally and physically. Sadly, I had not given a single thought to the spiritual aspect of labor. When I got into active labor, fear unlike anything I had ever experienced set in. Nothing could calm me down. Being in the water did help, but by that point I was so eager to get the whole process over with that I got out of the tub, thinking it had stalled labor. The fear and panic did not go away, but was masked by my midwife’s order of a narcotic shot in my leg. It stopped the panic but I was barely lucid. Sadly, I remember very little of my son’s arrival and the early moments with him. I was not even able to talk about our first son’s birth for over a year afterward because of the fear and shame I felt.
When I became pregnant with our second child, I felt compelled to meet with two women from church to talk and pray about this baby’s arrival. From the first time we gathered to pray the Holy Spirit began tearing down strongholds and confronting lies I had believed about myself, childbirth, and God’s role in birth.
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