This is who I am

My journey into birth work was not born out of ease or inspiration—it was born from pain, reckoning, and the long road toward healing.

My first birth was an induction at the Naval hospital in Okinawa, Japan. What was meant to be a joyful initiation into motherhood became a trauma I would carry for years. My son was taken to the NICU for a week due to meconium aspiration. The sudden separation and sterile clinical environment severed the sacred mother-baby bond that my heart instinctively knew should have been protected. I spiraled into a postpartum period marked by overwhelming grief, depression, and suicidal ideations. I was alive, but I was not well. I was a mother, but I didn’t feel like one.

Almost two years later, I gave birth to my second son at the same hospital—but this time, I did everything I could to reclaim the experience. I labored at home for as long as I could, knowing I wanted to stay connected to my body, my instincts, and my baby. When we arrived at the hospital, he was born just ten minutes later. That birth was fast, intense, and less traumatic than the first—but I was still treated like a problem to be managed, not a person to be honored. My rights were overlooked. My voice was small. My body, again, was not mine.

And then, everything changed.

My third son was born at home, in water, into the gentle hands of a Certified Professional Midwife in Arizona. It was the first time I felt what it meant to birth in power, in safety, in trust. His birth was a threshold—a moment that cracked me open and called me back to myself. It was healing. It was holy. And it was the catalyst for the work I do now.

In 2023, I answered that call and started attending births prior to certifying as a Full Spectrum Doula through Birthworker Academy; then later through The Matrona. That was only the beginning. Since then, I’ve immersed myself in deep and diverse studies, including The Matrona’s Birthkeeper Cohort, a Holistic Doula and Monitrice certification, and specialized trainings in breech birth and physiological birth. I’ve built a personal library that continues to expand—books that shape my lens and inform my care. Titles like Homebirth on Your Own Terms, Birthing From Within, Holy Labor, Natural Hospital Birth, Reclaiming Childbirth as a Rite of Passage, Holistic Midwifery, The Breech Release, along with a wide array of homeopathy and herbal medicine guides, live within arm’s reach.

But this path has not been linear or easy. I’ve wrestled with intense self-doubt and questioned if I truly belonged in this sacred work. I’ve battled the urge to people-please and make myself small in a space that demands presence, integrity, and the willingness to walk through fire with others. Birth work will confront you. It will call up the parts of you that still ache. It will stretch your heart and your boundaries. It will humble you. And still—I stay.

Because this isn’t just a profession. It’s a calling.

A lifelong pilgrimage I believe God placed on my heart. And when He calls, the enemy will try everything to silence, distract, and destroy that purpose. I’ve learned to meet that resistance with faith, truth, and courage.

Today, I serve mothers and families with reverence, intuition, and a fierce commitment to their sovereignty. I hold space for the sacred—not only the beauty of birth, but also the unraveling, the rage, the grief, the truth-telling, and the rebuilding. Whether you’re preparing for your first birth, processing a traumatic one, or stepping into your own transformation, I am here—not to lead you, but to walk beside you.

Because I know what it means to lose your voice.

And I know what it means to find it again.