Parents have shared the story of their child’s birth through the lens of professional photographers for many years.

In a new series, we are focusing on one story at a time, emphasizing the variety of birthing methods and the uniqueness of each family’s story. Wilkinson describes in her own words how unpredictable childbirth can be, regardless of the number of times one has experienced it. I have five children. My oldest child is six years old, and I’ve had four children in the past four years. It’s been fascinating!

After having my first child in a hospital, I’ve had all successive children at home. My first labor lasted approximately 24 hours, and I believe it would have lasted longer if I hadn’t been given Pitocin. Then I had approximately two hours of total labor with my second child. Perhaps I was three when I had my third child. My fourth labor lasted 14 hours and was exceptionally painful from the beginning.

Due to this, I went into my most recent birth expecting the unexpected, but with a clear idea of what I desired, if possible. I prepared for my spouse to receive the baby. And it was crucial for me to find some peace and calm immediately after the birth of the baby. I was anticipating a 41-week pregnancy because that’s how long my first and third pregnancies lasted, but I’d been feeling quite uncomfortable from 36 weeks on.

At 39 weeks pregnant, I wanted to bed as usual and awoke approximately 45 minutes later to a contraction. I felt as if the baby was present. I had had some really fast contractions in the past, but I’d also had some really lengthy ones, so I had no idea what was happening. My spouse asked me, “Are you going to have a baby right now?” After I regained my composure, I had a contraction and began to sweat. When he hesitated me, I had a contraction, and he questioned, “Are you going to awaken in transition?”

We had discussed with my what to do if things moved quickly, as I’d previously experienced swift labors. So we had this planned out to prepare ourselves. My neighbor, who lives approximately 45 minutes away, arrived on time, so we did not have to. My contractions were extremely close together, and I remember thinking, “They need to slow down because I cannot handle this.”

Fourteen hours afterward, I was still preparing myself for the prospect of doing this, despite the fact that everyone else seemed to comprehend how close I was. I jumped into the bathtub. My spouse and I were of the opinion, “Sure, Ash, whatever you say.” In the water, things were somewhat better, but then they became even more intense. And it was evident that they were not dilation contractions. They were contractions for delivering the infant.

I stepped out of the bathtub, and he was born within a minute and a half. My husband was able to catch him, and I simply helped and observed for some time. He is such a calm infant. I adore that I can see it in these photographs, despite his pouty expression. Since birth, he has possessed such a pleasant disposition. It was one of the greatest pleasures I have ever felt. To see him, to learn that he was a boy, to hold him on my chest, to hear him wail, and ultimately to be done with the arduous and difficult journey. I spoke up all the goodbyes, subconsciously, and was so pleased that we did it!

The children slept through the entire event. We had an acquaintance who was willing to supervise them if necessary, and we were open to their preference, whether they decided it on their own or if they preferred my sister’s house. So, they simply left.

I took a snooze. Now that I’ve completed this task five times, I’ve learned to expect the unexpected and to be okay if nothing goes as “supposed” to go. It’s similar to having so many children near to teenage years. Occasionally, we exclaim, “Oh, my goodness, this is crazy!” But our hearts are filled. This, and birth were so different from what I had hoped and imagined for the entire pregnancy, but after he was born, I was so proud and satisfied with how everything had transpired. I see the hand of a Great Creator above the birth story of the baby.