The birth hierarchy I secretly believed in (and what blew it up)

I thought HOW I birthed would prove WHO I was. I was soooo damn wrong.

Okay confession time, plzzz don’t judge me (or do)…

During my first pregnancy (back in 2021), I was DEEP in it and wildly focused on having the PERFECT, most natural birth experience.

Cue the hypnobirthing tracks, the affirmation cards, the birth classes (that ALL applauded natural, vaginal births), the playlist, the perineal massages (yes, really), the vision of myself moaning low like an ancient priestess in some candlelit cave of my own creation.

I was going to birth my baby like a WITCH. Powerful. Undrugged. IN MY MAGIC.

And then—24+ hours later…Emergency c-section.

I think there’s this not-so-talked-about shame SO many women carry when birth doesn’t go “according to plan.”

Not only did this birth experience wreck me because it felt SO traumatic, but it absolutely DESTROYED my sense of self—especially as a spiritual, magical, conscious girly.

I had SO much identity wrapped up in what kind of woman I thought I’d be. What kind of birth I thought I’d have. What I thought it meant about me if my body needed intervention.

And I don’t even think I realized how much superiority and ego I had wrapped up in birth beforehand until I was confronted with not getting the experience I wanted.

I did SO much work after my first birth experience to process the trauma and move through the disempowering beliefs I held about myself. The somatic work, the trauma work, the I-am-not-my-first-birth work.

When I was pregnant with our son, I was ready for REDEMPTION.

But my work with a practitioner before birth shifted things for me…

She helped me see that I was NOT in control of how the baby came out or the outcome. But I WAS in control with creating the vibe and frequency of how I wanted to feel during my birth experience.

Low and behold, my second birth ended in an emergency C-section. Again. And I’m not gonna lie…I was bummed about that.

BUT…

Despite the outcome, there was so much beauty in it. So much connection. So much intention. So much love between me and Jake during labor (and before and after). I was actually able to touch on and experience SO much of what I thought could only be experienced inside of a natural, vaginal birth…and it blew me away.

While during my first labor experience I felt like I was going to die and even wanted to at points (which if you know me, is CRAZY, because I’m SO afraid of death)…my second labor experience was hard but EUPHORIC. It was so connective and magical in so many ways and I felt so grateful for those moments.

Even after the c-section happened, I felt really, really good about my experience…until I was on the gram and saw another c-section mama who had just had a redemptive home birth experience. And I just couldn’t help but compare.

The happiness and high I had experienced within my own being POPPED because I was still SO stuck on one way of birthing being the way.

Which is SO sad.

The ego trap dressed up as “conscious birth”

Here’s the part nobody in the sacred-birth-girlies internet wants to say out loud, so I will ;)

“Conscious birth” can be just as much of an ego trap as “crushing your goals.”

Both are whispering: if you do this right, you will have proven something. About your worth. About your power. About whether you’re a Real One.

It’s the same trap I see everywhere in this space:

- Healed enough? Prove it with how regulated your nervous system looks in conflict.

- Spiritual enough? Prove it with your morning routine.

- Embodied enough? Prove it with how soft, slow, cyclical your life looks on Instagram.

- Conscious woman enough? Prove it with how your baby exits your body.

Byeee performance. Hiii…what’s real!

My decision to have an elective C-section

While a part of me deeply longs to have the natural, vaginal, homebirth experience…I’ve come to peace with the fact that this is not my path. At least not in this lifetime (I don’t think! haha).

I have CONSCIOUSLY and lovingly chosen to do an elective C-section for our third. And while there is a grief that comes with this decision, there is also SO much freedom and love. I feel so clear I’m making this choice from a place of truth > ego and that feels really really good.

And now here I am, almost 3 babies in, scheduled C-section on the calendar, and I finally—FINALLY—get that the magic is never actually in the type of birth or how the baby comes out. It’s in the presence. The devotion. The surrender. The love. The way we enter the portal.

The altar was never the outcome. The altar was the frequency I was bringing INTO the birth portal.

YES, beforehand, with the magical lights twinkling in the dark room. Our birthing playlist jamming. My eyes locked into Jake’s…feeling like we were in a time and space that was just the three of us.

AND…in the operating room where it def wasn’t aesthetic. The lights were fluorescent. I was shaking. A machine was beeping. A man I had never met was about to cut me open.

And somewhere in there—in between the fear and the grief of “not again” and OUT OF CONTROL SHAKING and fear….was the love so big it had its own gravity—I dropped in.

Not in a graceful way. Not in a “and then I surrendered” way that you read in birth stories.

In a holy fucking titties, this is happening, and I am HERE for it way. Because what other choice do I have?!

Present. To my baby. To my body. To my husband’s love. To the absolute aliveness of being a woman on the threshold between worlds, even under hospital lights with a surgical drape in my face.

ALLLLL of THAT was the magic.

Not the method.

The frequency.

Devotion vs control (the practice I’m rehearsing right now)

So here’s what I’m rehearsing for this third birth, the one that’s already scheduled, already “unsacred” by the metrics I used to worship…

Control says: I will birth this baby THIS way and that will mean I am THIS kind of woman!!!

Devotion says: I will meet this baby HOWEVER they come, and I will bring my whole alive self into the room with them.

Control is about proving.

Devotion is about showing up.

Control is graded on outcome.

Devotion is graded on presence—and even the word “graded” doesn’t really apply, because devotion isn’t a test. It’s a way of being.

I’m not going to lie to you—I still feel the pull of the old story. The little voice that says maybe this time you could try for a VBAC, maybe this time you could prove…

And then I remember: the baby doesn’t care. The baby just wants their mama with them and loving them.

The portal doesn’t care HOW you walk through it. The portal cares that you ACTUALLY walked through it of performing or trying to win it.

And obviously this is not just about birth.

This applies to EVERY threshold in your life.

The launch you’re putting out and grading by the revenue.

The breakup you’re grading by how “conscious” it was.

The big decision you’re grading by whether other people thought it was the right choice.

The creative project you’re grading by how people receive it.

The motherhood you’re grading by…honestly, what AREN’T we grading motherhood by?

Every single one of those is a portal.

And every single one of them, the magic—the real, soul fucking good, this-is-why-I-came-here magic—is NEVER in the outcome.

It’s in the love, the frequency, and devotion you bring to it.

Were you present? Were you reverent? Were you actually THERE, in your body, in your aliveness, in your messy magical full-range self?

OR.

Were you performing the spiritual version of the thing while secretly trying to win it?

Your invitation this week…

One question to sit with…

Bring it to your matcha. Bring it to the shower. Bring it to the 2am feed if you’ve got one of those happening.

Where in your life are you being graded on outcome instead of presence/energy/frequency/love?

And!! Who’s holding the grade book? Is it REALLY you? Or is it some old version of you that you’ve outgrown but forgot to fire? Is it someone who’s opinion is louder than your soul’s truth?

Fire whoever is doing the grading.

Not because they’re inherently bad.

Maybe that version of you got you here. But she doesn’t know how to walk through the portals waiting for you next.

Devotion does. Presence does. Your aliiiiiveness does.

And REMEMBER!! The magic was never in the way the baby came out. The magic was always in the woman walking through the door.

See you on the other side of whatever threshold you’re standing at. I’ll be over here, belly enormous, scheduled date on the calendar, making it all sacred despite what the spiritual bitches in the holier-than-thou rulebook say anyway ;)

With glitter on the altar. Always.

Xx,

Lex

PS — Want to know alllll the ways I’m making this birth portal sacred and magical AF?!! I can do A WHOLLLLLE post on it. Just let me know if that would tickle your pickle!