Some birth stories begin long before labor starts. They begin in the quiet ache of loss, in the months of healing, and in the steady hope of new life. Kenzie’s Easter morning homebirth story began the summer before, when she experienced the heartbreaking loss of a very much wanted baby. Her heart was heavy, and she spent months tending to both her heart and her body before feeling ready to try again. When she told me she was pregnant again, I could not have been more excited for her. We were due only two weeks apart, and I told her not to worry. Our babies would take turns so that I could be there to photograph hers.
This baby was a rainbow baby, a little soul conceived after loss, and Kenzie and her husband Lucas decided to go “team green,” keeping the gender a surprise until birth. My own baby was born on March 20, and the following week I was officially back on call for her. I was so grateful that the timing worked out just as we had hoped. At forty weeks pregnant in mid April, Kenzie was tired and ready. She had been convinced that this baby would come early, yet every day passed without change. She was experiencing the ups and downs of the waiting game, and she had been so sure her little one would be in her arms by now.
That Thursday, I joked to a doula friend that this baby must be waiting for Easter morning. I had no idea Kenzie had told her midwife the very same thing during her last appointment. On April 19, we texted throughout the day. She said she had been having contractions but felt sure it was just prodromal labor again, the same as it had been all week. I checked in again later, feeling in my gut that this might be different. When I asked how far apart her contractions were, she said they were about five to ten minutes apart, give or take, and nothing consistent. I paused, then asked her how intense they felt. She replied with one word: intense. That was all I needed to hear. I grabbed my camera gear, got in my car, and told her I was on my way.
While I was driving, she told me the door was unlocked and to head straight to her room. As soon as I stepped inside, I heard her roar from the doorway. By the time I reached her bedroom, another deep roar filled the air. I smiled quietly and waited for her contraction to pass before greeting her. She looked at me and said, “This sucks,” and I asked if she had called Merrell yet. She told me no. I said, “Okay, well, I’m going to call her.” Kenzie still thought she was in early labor. I knew she was already so close to meeting her baby.
I offered hip squeezes and counter pressure between contractions. Her body was working hard. I could see her Rhombus of Michaelis was raised, a clear sign that she was well into labor. She moved instinctively, roaring through some contractions, breathing deeply through others, clutching her birth comb for focus, kneeling over her birth ball, and swaying on her hands and knees. The student midwife arrived and checked the baby’s heartbeat, which was strong and perfect. Then a powerful contraction brought Kenzie to her knees, and she said she wanted to get in the birth pool. “I’m in transition,” she told us.
Lucas and I began getting the pool ready, only to find the hose adapter would not cooperate. In true homebirth fashion, we improvised. Lucas stood in the shower holding the hose so that the pool could fill quickly. Before long, the warm water was ready, and Kenzie stepped in just after midnight. Easter morning had arrived.
The room was calm and dim. Kenzie clasped her hands together on her knees and began to pray. She prayed for her baby’s safe arrival, for a slow descent, for protection over her body. During her daughter’s birth years before, she had experienced a third degree tear and had to transfer for stitches. She wanted more than anything to avoid a repeat of that difficult recovery. Throughout her pregnancy, we had talked about ways to slow the pushing stage and give her body time to stretch. In the quiet of her birth space, her voice rose with each wave. “Please God… slow baby slow. Please God help me.” No one touched her. No one rushed her. We trusted in her body, in her prayers, and in her process.
At one point, she let out a deep, guttural roar that filled the room. Then her voice softened into another prayer. She prayed out loud through every wave, her faith guiding her, asking God to bring her baby safely into her arms. The room was still, everyone present but silent, bearing witness to the sacred power of a mother’s faith in the final moments of labor.
Suddenly, she stilled and said calmly, “Head’s out.” On the next contraction, she brought her baby up to her chest herself and cried out, “Thank you, God!” Her baby’s voice joined hers with a strong, beautiful cry. Tears filled every eye in the room.
Kenzie pulled her baby away from her chest just enough to peek in the low light, eager to know whether she had welcomed a son or daughter. The room was too dark to tell at first, but then her face lit up. “It’s a girl!” she exclaimed, holding her new daughter close as Lucas leaned in to kiss her.
Kenzie’s mother entered the room a few minutes later to check in, only to be greeted by the joyful announcement that she had a new granddaughter. She had been caring for Kenzie and Lucas’s older children so that they could be fully present in the birth space.
Kenzie delivered her placenta and stayed in the pool, soaking in her baby and the moment. Eventually, Lucas held his daughter skin to skin while Kenzie moved to bed, nervously awaiting the news about her perineum. Merrell examined her and then looked up with a smile. “Everything looks great.” No tears. No stitches. All of Kenzie’s intentional preparation and those fervent prayers had been answered.
Her baby girl was weighed and checked by the student midwife, declared absolutely perfect, and then tucked back into her mother’s arms. Kenzie lay back, surrounded by love, ready for the first feed and the first rest of this brand-new chapter.
Witnessing this Easter morning home water birth in Ocala was one of the most profound experiences of my life as a Florida birth photographer and doula. The strength, the faith, the trust in her body and her baby were unforgettable. These are the moments that stay with me forever.
Midwife: Merrell – A Mother’s Village Birth Center of Ocala
Doula: Savannah A. Photography
Birth Photography: Savannah A. Photography – Ocala homebirth photographer serving Marion County, Gainesville, and surrounding areas
I’m am beyond blessed to call you my doula, photographer, and most importantly friend. Thank you for helping me prepare, for being there in the wee hours of Easter morning to welcome my baby, for the hip squeezes even though you were just a month postpartum, for taking the most amazing photos that I will treasure for the rest of my life, for keeping me company on some of the lonely postpartum days. I could go on and on. You are a blessing to women and to this community.
Kenzie, you have me in tears all over again. Being your doula and photographer was such an honor, but being your friend is the biggest gift. I will never forget those sacred hours in the stillness of Easter morning, the strength in your voice, the prayers, the love that filled your home. Thank you for trusting me, for welcoming me into such intimate spaces, and for letting me walk beside you through it all. You are such a light and I’m just so grateful our paths crossed the way they did. Love you so big!!!
The faith and love in that room that early morning was astounding. Absolutely one of my favorite memories. I love you guys so much, thank you for the absolute honor to get to watch you grow as a woman, a mother and to watch these beautiful little souls grow is the best!
Merrell, that’s what I love so much about you. You know when to step in and when to simply trust a mama’s body and prayers to guide her. That morning was so full of faith and love, and your calm presence made the whole space feel safe. I’ll never forget standing beside you, both of us just holding space while Kenzie brought her baby into the world exactly the way she hoped. You are such a gift to the families you serve, and I’m so thankful for you.