What I Wish I Knew About Birth

What I Wish I Knew Before Giving Birth Naturally

If I could go back to the woman I was before my first natural birth, I’d speak life and truth into her fear. I’d tell her that birth was never meant to feel like a battlefield, a medical emergency, or something she needed to “get through.” It was meant to be sacred. Designed. Holy.

This post is for the woman who knows in her bones that birth is more than a due date and a hospital bag. It’s for the one who wants to trust her body, her baby, and her God—but doesn’t know how.
Here’s what I wish I knew.

1. Stop calling it “pain.” It’s pressure—and it has purpose.

One of the biggest lies I believed was that birth is supposed to hurt. So I braced myself. I feared it. I tensed at every wave.

But now I know better.

The pressure that comes during birth isn’t pain. Pain tells your mind to run, to resist, to escape. But birth calls you to open. When we label those waves as pain, we trigger fear and tension—the very things that work against the natural flow of birth. I wish I knew that those sensations were signs of progress, not problems.

When you embrace the pressure, you work with your body. You surrender. And that’s where the real power is.

2. Hospitals are not just about “help”—they’re about profit.

I used to think hospitals were neutral spaces there to support me. But here’s the raw truth: hospitals are businesses. And business follows the money.

Big Pharma profits massively from birth. From epidurals and inductions, to placenta sales, stem cells, and even foreskin—the system profits off every inch of your body and baby. A spontaneous, sovereign birth earns them nothing. A C-section? That’s big money.

Of course they intervene. Of course they push the clock. Of course they make homebirth seem risky—because a woman who births in her power, at home, outside the system… costs them.

You are not seen as a soul in labor. You are seen as a dollar sign on a monitor.

3. Only you should be leading your birth.

I used to think I needed someone to lead me through labor—especially my partner. But now I know: the only voice that matters during birth is yours.

Your partner’s role is not to take charge, but to protect the space. To advocate for what you want. To quietly support you so you can go deep into the work only you can do.

Birth isn’t something to be directed—it’s something to be honored. No one has the right to speak over a woman in labor. She is the one walking through the fire. Let her speak. Let her lead.

4. You were made for this. Literally.

You don’t need to be rescued from birth. You were created for it.

Everything about your body was divinely designed to bring life. Your uterus knows how to contract. Your cervix knows when to open. Your baby knows how to rotate and descend. You just have to get out of the system’s way—and out of your own.

Fear has no place in the birth room. But faith does. And when you walk in the authority God gave you, birth becomes not just bearable—it becomes beautiful.

5. Jesus belongs in the birth room.

This is what changed everything for me.

Birth is not just physical. It is spiritual warfare and sacred surrender. The atmosphere shifts when you welcome Jesus in. I learned to speak Scripture between surges. To anoint my birth space. To labor not in fear but in worship.

He is the strength in your surrender. The calm in your contractions. The one who knit your baby together and will see that baby safely earthside.

Scripture for this season:
“You created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”
—Psalm 139:13

If He designed the beginning of life, don’t you think He also designed the way it enters the world?