“All right then, the Lord himself will give you the sign….She will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel (which means ‘God is with us’).”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭7‬:‭14‬ ‭NLT‬‬

My Birth Story

My actual birth took place on 12/12/23 and our son, Emmanuel Abide Turner, entered this world at 2:46 am, into my hands as I labored in the passenger seat of mg husband’s car. I’m pretty sure he was driving 100 mph down Highway 75 trying to get us to our birth center, Lovers Lane Birth Center.

The active labor lasted from 12:18 am to 2:46 am.

But the Process…the process to get to that day….that lasted every single second of those 39+ weeks I was pregnant, that was/is long. The path that led me to this day, forming over 32 years of my living, and holds me even now, is this clear, undeniable proof of God’s heart/hand on my life and family, which includes all that comes with it- the highs and lows, the wins and losses.

Therefore it can be understood why my birth story was not just 2.5 hours. My birth story has been my life. I’m still being born even now and I’m grateful the Lord catches me in His hands every single time.

I found out I was pregnant through a dream God gave me that I dismissed. Why did I dismiss it? Because I didn’t want to be pregnant. I’ve never wanted to be pregnant and anybody who knows me knows I enjoy children more than pregnancy. Not because pregnancy is horrible but because I as a person do not like sharing my body when I don’t want to (I think this like has to do with childhood trauma but it’s my truth).

I dismissed the dream. A week or so later my dog Simon began to become obsessed with me. And a week or so later those telltale signs of achey breasts showed up. I knew I needed to test at that point and it was blatantly positive when I did. If I recall, that night my husband and I sat on the couch in shock, and every 10 minutes we would say out loud in a trance, “Another baby. Oh, Lord.”

What makes me smile but in an accepting way, not a comical way is that God’s will really will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Whether or not we like it, want it, approve of it, or willingly participate in it. I know our son was meant to be here as much as all our other children and my conviction of this truth has its own receipts. Anywho, I digress.

The first trimester was horrible and different from my prior pregnancies. I was sick and unable to eat much at all and ended up in the hospital for dehydration twice.

The second trimester was when I started my new job. My body was doing pretty well. I learned that though I didn’t officially have gestational diabetes this time, I was still borderline at risk. I was instructed by my midwife to follow a strict diet to protect myself and the baby and not repeat what happened during my 3rd pregnancy and after.

Around the third trimester, my relationship with God and my job began to evolve. As they evolved, the other parts of my life seemed to shift in ways that alarmed me on some days and fortified me on others. I remember going to the altar at my church around this time and my pastors Urban Brown and his wife Joyce Brown praying over me.

I was limping because, let’s be plain, I do not have birthing hips at all! With my 3rd pregnancy, both external and internal factors happened to my body that made my postpartum recovery hell. I lost the ability to walk for some time, I could not use the bathroom, my abs split down the middle from Diastasis Recti and I learned of something called the Pelvic Floor and mine was weak and barely functioning. I went through 1.5 years of therapy to get my body back, yet residual things still linger even today. I limped because the weight of the baby pressing down on my hips and pelvis made my legs feel like they were on fire with sharp pains shooting down them to my feet, often causing numbness. My pastor, not knowing this, prayed over me that God was going to get me through this and not to lose heart: my pregnancy and labor meant much more than what was seen from the surface. Many were in that process of growing in God and would be born/moved forward around the same times as our own son would come forward. He told me that “all the things happening may seem as if to crush me, but they would not succeed.” When he said crush, I breathed a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding because that is exactly what I had been feeling but didn’t have the words. That my pregnancy and life were trying to crush me….yet here now I was hearing that it wasn’t going to win. I chose to try to believe this, albeit weakly.

Throughout this journey, I had support show up for me in unexpected yet beautiful ways. I have secretly supported moms for years with no desire or expectation that it would happen for me in my 3rd pregnancy or this one. The Royal Doula Academy gave me two doulas through Ebonnae Faith Bradley’s program who prayed with me, encouraged me, and met with me in my home twice to prepare for birth, Tresa and Tiffany. The plan had been for the 2 of them to be there during my labor process.

I also received the spiritual, emotional, sisterhood, health, and accountability support of Regal Attaché’s – Pregnancy & Birth Services. There was a level of help I needed to walk this out that only a personal sister in Christ could carry. I’ll make another post talking about the beauty of Doula’s later why I feel all women should have them and how the Holy Spirit is so much the doula of the believer.

I noticed that I would laugh a lot during this pregnancy and it was like medicine to me. If you could see the IG DM’s between my close friends, you would know we lived deep and cackling days during my pregnancy. I laughed so much on this journey that I prophesied that I would bring this baby forth in laughter. I didn’t know how right I was….

As weeks 37-38 arrived, I was busy watching videos on how to breathe during labor, how to not run from pain, how to stretch, how to stand, how to walk, how to engage your pelvic floor, how to know the signs of labor, how to understand stations, how to turn baby from a painful position to an optimal position. It was a lot but I felt I needed that because one thing I do not like is long-lasting pain and suffering and labor had been that for me with my 3rd. I knew about all the techniques, the mental exercises you could do to have a pain-free birth….but deep down I knew MY body and MY heart. I wasn’t going to get through this labor with strategy.

I approached the Lord and all the overwhelming plans I was trying to put into place and said, “Lord, I’ve done many things to be ready for this. But still…if there is a birth for me that’s better…higher…write that for me. Give me the birth You know is good for me and to me. I want that one Abba.”

In those final weeks, I had a lot of prodromal labor and Braxton hicks. I knew when I didn’t want the baby to be born: Before I could take my certification on 12/1/23 and not on Christmas Day. Everybody and their mama had bets on when he would come from 12/13, 12/11 (I liked this day a lot), 12/25, 12/24, and more.

When my pre-labor would start and stop and start and stop it began to discourage me at first. I soon realized though that I had the power to control my labor by how I believed and how I felt in my heart. That stress and fear stopped my contractions and peace and faith progressed it.

When I decided to go to bed on 12/11 around 9 pm, I told God and my baby that I was satisfied with the right time for his arrival. I laid my anxieties down and accepted with joy his day of arrival whenever that was.

On 12/12/23, Rolondo woke up first at midnight but I didn’t know. I woke up at 12:05 am and laid in bed for a moment. Then by 12/18/23, I felt a contraction surge through my body that took my breath away. Another came 7 minutes later. Then another. Then another. I tracked my contractions for 30-40 minutes and my 1:15 am they were 3-5 minutes apart.

Rolondo was by my side praying over and over.

One of my big needs for my labor process was that I didn’t want a crowd around me. I needed to tap deeply into God’s reserves of power and rest, and not have many voices in my head. I tried to play my music but only got one song to play “Show Up” by Ema Onyx, who helped inspire baby’s name.

I moved from the bed in my room, to the floor, rubbing my forehead side to side against a pillow, to outstretching my right hand to tap and snap rhythmically at the highest peaks of the contractions. It’s like my body had this understanding of how to manage my pain.

Our doula and midwife were on the phone and the decision was made for us to come to the birth center. One thing I did not desire at any point during my pregnancy was cervical checks. Medically speaking, this is a way providers know how far along in labor you are, but I didn’t want anybody’s affirmation of my process but my own.

I got on my knees through a rest break and said “Lord Jesus, carry me, please. Carry me through this. I won’t make it if You don’t hold me.”

Then I touched my husband’s hand and said, “I need you to cover me. Be my voice when I can’t speak. I have made my decision; I don’t need anyone to tell me what’s happening to me. I want to trust my body and I will not put myself or our baby in danger. Please, do not let anyone convince me that the only way to trust my body and experience is if they feel confident about me; I feel confident and that’s enough. I can feel what baby is doing and he’s moving the way he should. Make this plain as we go through this process to anyone who asks you.” He said okay.

When we stood up, the labor transitioned fast. I began to have two contractions at a time that lasted 2 minutes long. It took us from 1:30-2:10 am just to get into the car because I kept contracting so fast and strong that I couldn’t walk. Once we got in the car, I took my right hand and grabbed the little handle above the window, I turned to my left and pushed my forehead into the shoulder of the driver seat, and I kept my legs and knees as wide apart as I could.

Somewhere in the journey, Rolondo put on a soaking meditation song called “Yahweh” and I was grateful because I had wanted that song in my playlist but never added it. This was only the second song played that night and it washed peace over me through the fast labor.

Around 2:37 am, I felt the baby’s head descend into position for birth. In my mind, I told God, “Father, I don’t have much left in me for this. Maybe an hour of energy left. Help me please.”

Then I got a quick break to breathe and said “Ro, he’s coming. He’s coming.”

I don’t think either of us believed it.

With the next contraction, I felt him moving out fast, and I heard my Doula Tresa’s voice saying, “Don’t fight Jess, breathe, embrace the experience.” I let my voice drop low and deep and then I jerked down my clothes as fast as I could and he flew out into the right side of my pants leg. I caught his body from hitting the floor. I brought him up to my chest and covered him with the jacket I had on and his umbilical cord wrapped around his body.

My mouth opened wide in a HIGH laugh. My body shivered from cold and adrenaline. Rolondo and I screamed with glee and surprise and said “Oh my God. He’s here! Hi baby!”

I used my pinky finger to swipe out his nose and mouth of amniotic fluids and he let out a glorious scream into the world and then calmed down. He nursed within 5 minutes of being born and I clutched him, laughing, wonderfully delirious, amazed, and grateful. I had enough feelings and hormones and anointing in that night to last me a lifetime.

The first person I thought to call was my mama. She called me crazy in love and greeted her new grandson through FaceTime. Shoutout to retired folks who sit up at 3 am to pray or watch reruns. They answer the phone when you need them to.

We did end up going to the birth center to do our standard checks but the joy never left me. I was awake, alert, dirty, and powerful. My God, my husband, and my baby.

The midwife Kristy, her birth assistant, and one of my Doulas Tresa were there for me and laughing with me. It’s thanks to Tresa that I had any pictures from that night because the experience is imprinted on my mind where it will always live.

Here I am now almost 2 weeks postpartum, with this life-changing journey and experience in my hand that I have no regrets with, and the process it took to get to that day that I am still working through. I give myself much grace (being that it was expensively bought for me by my Savior) and I give myself much room to still laugh cause why not.

I do consider myself a superhero now. And I also feel rooted, or rather I Abide deeply now in a very real and tangible love from a great God.

Emmanuel changed my life.

Emmanuel Abide changed my life.

Being a mother changes my life.

Being Jessica is the pre-destined life God chose for me: I am so grateful to be living it.

“Lord…thank You for giving me something better than I ever imagined; as I asked; as You willed. I appreciate You.”