From Prenatal Massage to a 3AM Shooting Star: Ida’s Birth Story

The morning our daughter was born started in the least dramatic way possible: with a prenatal massage appointment.

But as I stood in the chiropractor’s office getting ready for my massage, I suddenly felt a trickle run down one leg… and then the other.

I froze.

Was that my water breaking?

Within minutes I was texting my mom, fielding calls from my midwife, and trying to decide whether I should cancel the massage—or go ahead with it while possibly in labor.

Spoiler: I got the massage.

And less than twenty hours later, I was holding my baby girl in my arms.

As we prepare to welcome baby number two any day now, it feels like the perfect time to finally share the story of how our first daughter entered the world.

I had read many times that first pregnancies often go long—sometimes as much as two weeks past the “due date.” When I also learned that only about 5% of babies are actually born on their due dates, I decided not to fixate on mine. Instead of mentally preparing for July 9th, I told myself baby would probably arrive closer to the end of July.

At my last appointment before going into labor, our midwife asked if we had any plans before baby arrived. When I told her I was mostly just waiting around, she encouraged me to put something enjoyable on the calendar—maybe a massage—so I wouldn’t spend my days simply watching the clock.

So I did exactly that. I scheduled my first prenatal massage for a few days later, followed by a nail appointment that same afternoon.

(This story contains details some may consider graphic, but birth is a beautifully messy thing.)

July 10

During the night and early morning, I noticed my Braxton-Hicks contractions were stronger than usual and accompanied by increased watery discharge.

Coincidentally, my doula texted me that morning. When I told her what was going on, she said it sounded like it could be early labor.

Her advice: take it easy and ignore the contractions until I couldn’t anymore.

I downloaded a contraction timer and made sure to eat a good breakfast.

10:15 AM — Prenatal Massage

As I undressed for my massage, I suddenly felt a trickle run down one leg—and then the other.

I froze.

Was more coming?

Did my water just break?

I quickly texted my mom (who had just dropped me off), threw my clothes back on, and waddled to the bathroom to clean up. As soon as I sat down, another gush came.

But at that point in pregnancy, every trip to the bathroom felt dramatic thanks to the baby pressing on my bladder, so I wasn’t sure what it meant.

During those few minutes I had several missed calls. My mom had already called Tanner and was on her way back to get me. She also told my dad, who immediately spiraled into worry about things like the umbilical cord coming out (thanks to his previous OB training).

To be fair, he didn’t realize the leak was minor.

When my chiropractor heard what had happened and realized I hadn’t even gotten my massage yet, she suggested I still go ahead with it. Labor—especially the first time—is usually a long process, she reminded me. It’s not the frantic rush you see in movies.

My massage therapist graciously continued with my prenatal massage while my mom waited in the lobby. Meanwhile, I was texting, playing phone tag with my midwife, and attempting to relax.

(Funnily enough, our midwife was actually in an appointment with my brother and sister-in-law at the time.)

When we finally connected, we agreed to take a “wait and see” approach and check back in later that afternoon.

3:00 PM — Nail Appointment

Since nothing seemed urgent and things were progressing slowly, I kept my nail appointment.

When I got home afterward, the head midwife and birth center owner called to check in. After hearing everything that had happened, she thought it was likely the outer layer of the water bag that had ruptured, since I was experiencing occasional gushes rather than continuous leaking.

She predicted we would probably meet our baby later that night—or the next morning.

5:00 PM

I began paying closer attention to my contractions.

6:20 PM

My mom made my favorite comfort meal: Asian-style chicken noodle soup.

As I stood up from the recliner to go to the table, I felt another gush of fluid that soaked through a pad. About thirty minutes later, while eating dinner, a smaller one followed.

7:00 PM

My contractions began increasing in frequency and intensity. They felt similar to Braxton-Hicks or menstrual cramps, but now they wrapped into my lower back as well.

8:20 PM

I took a shower while my doula and midwife checked in with each other.

Afterward, they suggested I try laying on each side for 20–30 minutes to see if that would help move things along.

When I laid on my right side, the contractions slowed significantly, and I noticed baby wasn’t moving as much as when I was on my left.

My doula suggested I take advantage of the lull and try to get some rest while I still could.

10:40 PM

Throughout the evening the contractions steadily intensified, coming every 1–4 minutes.

Tanner applied counter pressure to my sacrum with the heel of his hand, which helped tremendously.

July 11

12:20 AM

I got on a call with my doula while she timed contractions with me.

She suggested two new positions: one where Tanner supported me at the edge of the bed, and another standing lunge.

As soon as we tried the first position, the contractions became stronger and closer together.

2:00–3:00 AM

After speaking with our midwife, our doula told us it was time to head to the birth center.

I woke my mom, gathered our bags and snacks, and we headed out. The usually traffic-filled roads were quiet in the middle of the night, and Tanner got us there in record time.

As we drove through the quiet streets toward the birth center, Tanner and I looked up just in time to see a shooting star streak across the sky—an unexpected little moment that somehow felt like a good omen for the night ahead.

3:00 AM — Arrival at the Birth Center

Our midwife and doula were already there when we arrived. The room I had chosen—Tanzanite, a nod to our favorite continent—was ready.

The room was warm. Lavender filled the diffuser. Soft “massage music” played in the background… though honestly, I stopped noticing it after the first few minutes.

After a few contractions leaning over the bed, they had me sit backwards on the toilet.

It was awful.

I buried my head in a pillow with my eyes closed as contraction after contraction rolled through. My mom and doula took turns rubbing my lower back, sometimes both at once.

The steady touch helped take the edge off the intensity.

Meanwhile, Tanner was on hydration duty, making sure I took a sip of electrolytes every few minutes.

I tried laboring on the bed, then on an exercise ball, feeling slightly nauseous.

Around 4:45 AM — The Tub

Eventually, I made my way into the tub—a large circular one almost the size of a hot tub.

With my eyes closed, I focused on breathing through each contraction while my mom rubbed my back. Tanner held my hand, prayed over me, and offered constant encouragement. At one point someone placed an ice-cold washcloth on the back of my neck.

In my ideal scenario, I had hoped to give birth in the tub.

But after about an hour, my knees were aching from pressing against the porcelain. I tried shifting positions while my mom relentlessly pushed on my tailbone to help relieve the pressure, but nothing seemed to help.

I felt discouraged.

I had read so many birth stories that said when you reach your breaking point, baby is usually close. I wondered if I was there yet.

Did I feel the urge to push?

Was that what this was?

I tried the core compressions I had practiced during pregnancy. Nothing.

Maybe getting out of the tub would help.

As I started to climb out, another contraction hit. The midwife told us to wait until it finished before moving.

I collapsed back into the water.

And something shifted.

A deep growl came out of me.

“Is she pushing?” someone asked.

It didn’t feel like the overwhelming urge I had read about. I had expected a warning.

But my body had already started.

⸻

I became more vocal as the intensity increased—something that surprised me, since I’m normally quiet and tend to internalize pain.

They encouraged me to keep my sounds low and deep, which helps the body stay relaxed.

At one point Tanner kept calling me an ox, telling me how strong I was.

In that moment—barely able to speak—I wasn’t thrilled about essentially being compared to a cow. But I knew he meant well.

⸻

I pushed.

My doula handed me a comb to squeeze as a pain distraction. I crushed it in my right hand while gripping Tanner’s hand with my left.

I pushed.

I gripped the edge of the tub, resting my face on a cushion. I grunted. I blew bubbles in the water.

At one point I cried out:

“Why did I decide to do this? I regret my decision!”

Everyone laughed gently and kept encouraging me.

⸻

“Do you want to feel the head?”

I opened my eyes. At some point a mirror had been placed beneath me. I could see just a glimpse of a head—covered in hair, just like our ultrasound predicted.

I reached down and felt it.

Soft. Slippery. Real.

Then it slipped back slightly.

From our birth class I knew that was normal—the body stretching gradually.

The midwife helped reposition my right knee into a lunge.

I pushed again.

Then came a sharp, burning pain.

The ring of fire.

6:13 AM

The head was out.

“Does it look like a boy or girl?” Tanner joked.

Everyone laughed.

“It looks like a baby,” our midwife replied.

Suddenly the energy in the room shifted. The encouragement grew louder. Everyone was cheering.

6:14 AM

With one more push, our baby was born.

As she came out, I leaned back and the midwife guided her into Tanner’s hands and then into my arms.

We were in complete awe.

Someone finally asked,

“Hey Tanner… is it a boy or a girl?”

A girl.

Most people had predicted a boy, but the Lord blessed us with our precious daughter:

Zoraida Mei

8 lbs 3 oz

21 inches long

⸻

For those curious about other stats:

Active labor: 2:00–5:43 AM (3 hours 43 minutes)

Placenta delivery: 6:35 AM

Cord cut: 7:06 AM

Newborn exam: 8:10 AM

I had two first-degree tears and one second-degree tear that required stitches.

While I soaked in an herbal bath to promote healing, my mom walked to a nearby coffee shop and returned with coffee and some of the most delicious breakfast sandwiches I’ve ever eaten—my well-earned post-delivery meal.

Around 11:00 AM

After feeding, resting a little, and passing all the final checks, it was time to bring our baby home.

It felt surreal that we were simply sent on our way.

Like… here you go.

“Oh. This is our baby now. We’re responsible for her.”

I guess we’re doing this parenting thing.

The first weeks were hard—full of sleepless nights and learning curves. And honestly, every stage since has brought new challenges.

But through all of it, we’ve also experienced the deepest joy we’ve ever known.

And now, as we wait for baby number two to arrive any day, I’m reminded just how powerful and sacred those first moments were.

The moment our lives changed forever.

And the moment we first became parents.

The moment Ida was placed in my arms, the world felt both completely new and strangely familiar—like we had been waiting for her all along. That day stretched me in every way: physically, emotionally, spiritually. It showed me the power of the body God designed, the strength that comes from the people who love you, and the overwhelming miracle of new life. Now, as we count down the final days before baby number two arrives, I find myself returning to that memory with gratitude. Because if that first birth taught me anything, it’s that the most life-changing moments often begin quietly… and unfold into something far more beautiful than you could ever plan.