41. Earthside:Oriana’s Story
“Hey Brandy, Adam here… I think you may need to start thinking of getting here.”
That was the text I received at 10:06 p.m., after a full day of communication and quiet support from afar. Josie had kept me updated throughout the day, but Adam’s message held urgency—the kind that birth workers instantly recognize.
Just the day before, Josie stopped by to pick up some NORA tea. As we chatted, I noticed a shift in her presence—a softness, a glow, the unmistakable energy that tells you the veil is thinning. I hugged her goodbye with a gentle smile and told her, “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you very soon.”
Sure enough, at 6:41 a.m. the next morning, July 25, 2025, I got a message from Josie: she’d been having contractions since around 2:30 a.m. We continued texting throughout the day, and I made quiet preparations on my end—readying my home and family for my absence, gathering my birth bags, double-checking the diaper bag, and making sure my daughter (and doula-in-training) was set to accompany me when the time came.
All day long, I covered Josie and Adam in prayer. I asked God for safe passage, for peace, and for a fearless, holy birth. I texted Josie 2 Timothy 1:7—“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and love, and a sound mind.” She mentioned how the flow of the day and the activity of the children had slowed things down, which is so often the case in early labor. But I remained on standby, heart open and anchored in God’s timing.
That afternoon, I stepped outside to sit with my chickens while eating lunch and worshiping. I let worship music carry me into God’s presence, where I released my own expectations and opened myself to His plan for this birth. Oceans began to play, and the lyrics stirred something deep in me:
Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You’ve never failed me and You won’t start now...
The tears came easily. Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders. That line in particular felt knitted to Josie’s experience. I prayed she’d feel the freedom to fully let go—to release the mental to-do list, to silence the part of her that felt she needed to "do" anything more.
At 9:35 p.m., I sent a final check-in text before laying down to rest. I had just finished pumping and was putting my milk away when Adam’s message came in. Moments later, he followed up with a call—Josie’s water had released.
It was go time.
I kicked into gear, grabbing the last of our bags and having my older kids help pack the van and buckle in little Blythe. We live close, but I could tell from Adam’s voice that time was short. While I drove, Adam called again. I could hear Josie in the background—those low, instinctual grunts that only a birthworker would recognize. The baby was close.
This was my second time attending a birth for this beautiful family. Over time, they’ve become like extended family to us. I knew Josie’s birth rhythm—she is quiet and steady until the very end. And I could hear it... the unmistakable sound of a mother nearing the edge of delivery.
I pulled up, ran inside, kicked off my shoes quietly, and entered their sacred space. There in the living room, on her knees, Josie was already crowning.
I simply knelt beside her—no rush, no intervention. Just presence. Just reverence. Just prayer.
They didn’t need me to do anything. They already had everything they needed. With Adam steady at her side, Josie birthed their baby with strength and grace. The baby’s head emerged slowly and gently, followed by a beautiful restitution. With a final surge, baby slipped into Adam’s hands, accompanied by a warm gush of waters. He passed the baby through Josie’s legs and, with a tremble in his voice, announced:
“It’s a girl!”
Just four minutes after my arrival, Josie delivered her third child—her second daughter—right there on the floor next to the warm, waiting birth tub.
Josie then settled into the tub, where she nursed her new baby and waited upon the placenta in peace. Later, with support, we helped her to the bed where she curled up under soft blankets with her new daughter tucked close. It was their Golden Hour—a time of stillness, bonding, and awe. Just the three of them.
I had the joy of examining her placenta and sharing its sacred story with my oldest daughter, who watched in amazement. We made placenta prints, honored the organ that had sustained this new life, and I prepared a nourishing post-birth meal for Josie.
Adam carefully weighed and measured their daughter, and we all shared quiet laughter and gentle conversation while Josie rested. After a while, I packed my bags, gave one final tuck-in, and quietly slipped out into the night.
As a birthworker, I hold every story as sacred. Whether I’m present for 20 hours or just in time for the final push, the honor is never lost on me. Every birth space is holy. Every woman a warrior. Every moment a reminder of God’s design, sovereignty, and love.
And this one?
This one was holy ground.
Oriana Juliette
July 25, 2025 at 10:32pm
7lbs 9oz & 20”
Stay Wild & Free,
-Brandy
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