After years of struggling with fertility issues, I was finally pregnant with a growing, thriving baby. A baby boy—my baby boy. I couldn’t wait to meet him. My hands caressing my expanding belly, I dreamed of his soft, pudgy skin, the smell of his newborn head, and the precious moans and coos he’d make as I gazed into his perfect baby eyes.

But that’s not all I thought about. Over the years of yearning for a baby, I’d had a lot of time to consider what I would want for my one-day pregnancy and childbirth experience.

I wanted it to be all natural, with little to no medical intervention, and a peaceful, intimate experience for my husband and me. I’d read and heard of such stories, and this is what I wanted.

Now that baby boy was growing bigger each week, and the due date was growing closer and closer, I found myself getting anxious about things not going how I’d planned.

What if something unexpected happens? What if his heart rate plummets? What if he gets stuck coming out? From the smallest deviance from my birth plan to the biggest emergency, I imagined it all. And that made me afraid. Really, really afraid.

I knew fear was just about the last emotion I wanted to bring into labor. When you’re afraid, your body secretes stress hormones (specifically adrenaline, cortisol, and norepinephrine). And stress hormones are not friends to the birth experience—fear and stress are enemies of a peaceful and steady progression of an otherwise-uncomplicated childbirth. 

But I couldn’t just pretend I wasn’t afraid. I knew I wasn’t a good enough actress to fool my own hormones, especially once the contractions started and there was no turning back. So, I made a plan: operation “no more fear.”

About two months before baby boy was born, I got serious about eradicating the fear that was stealing my joy and hope for a beautiful birth.

Here are the four things I did to stare fear in the face and eliminate it from my birth story:

1. I shared my specific fears with my medical providers.

   My team consisted of an OB/GYN, a licensed midwife, and a doula. I sat down with each of them and talked through the things that make me most afraid: labor that fails to progress, extreme tearing of the perineum, and an emergency c-section.
   
   Just talking about what made me most afraid was incredibly helpful, and hearing their expert advice, encouragement that an extreme scenario was unlikely, and helpful tips on how to prepare my body physically to, hopefully, minimize any of those situations gave me hope and confidence.
    

2. I took the practical advice they gave me seriously.

   I ate a low-sugar, protein-rich diet and drank three liters of water a day (diets vary for every mama, and you should make a personalized plan with your medical provider). I stayed active—going on walks, doing prenatal yoga, and practicing my low squats—on a daily basis.

I practiced meditating on prayers and mantras that meant something to me for my brith—key words and phrases like, “open,” “my body was made for this,” and “I can trust the process.” A few other suggestions were given to me to help prevent tearing of the perineum, and I followed the advice.

3. I made a hard, fast, rule not to listen to anyone’s bad birth stories.

   No “war stories” until baby boy was out! If someone wanted to share their experience with me, it had to be good, encouraging, and something that would build my faith of having a positive experience.
   
   I stopped several people in the middle of their sentences, politely asking them if they could tell me the rest of their story after I had given birth. And, if someone started to hint they had a good labor experience, I asked them to share every detail! I wanted to be filled with hope and excitement, and I made a plan to guard my heart and mind as I waited for baby.
    

4. I prayed A lot.

   I took time to myself and dug deep into my own heart. I verbally processed my fears in prayer, and I had faith to believe for new truths, new revelations, new understandings that would build my confidence in the way God made and designed my body.

I chose to believe that birth is a strategic process—maybe one that I don’t fully understand (does anyone?) but planned and by designed by my Creator. Saying that out loud was powerful at reducing the fear and negative thoughts vying for my mind’s attention.  

In the end, I am grateful to say I had a very positive birth experience. I worked hard and got really tired, but nothing went “wrong.” All the help and advice I’d received the two months before prepared my body, mind, and heart to enter labor fully engaged, and fully expectant of a good outcome. I took these recommendations into the births of my next four children (yes! I have five kids now!), and they helped me with each and every baby.