Story 17: The 5:30 AM Script and Vision Board

My certainty about Jack started long before his conception. Two years before he was born, his name was already settled.

I knew he was a boy.

I was so sure of it that I bypassed the neutral greens and yellows, steadily building a bundle of boy’s clothing in anticipation of his arrival. I only saw a doctor once during the entire pregnancy, purely to confirm what my intuition already knew.

During this pregnancy, I discovered what felt like the spiritual "holy grail": Ask and It Is Given by Jerry and Esther Hicks. Immersing myself in the teachings of Abraham, I deeply questioned why childbirth had to be so painful.

My first two births included heavy medical interventions, inductions, and epidurals, leaving me feeling completely removed from the process.

Wanting answers, I ordered an Abraham Hicks cassette tape specifically about having a pain-free birth.

On it, they shared the analogy of a dog—how it yelps if you step on its tail, yet gives birth to a whole litter without a single cry of agony because it holds no resistance or negative expectation.

I was absolutely fascinated.

I decided to test this theory to see if I could have a pain-free birth myself.

Using the Abraham Hicks scripting process, I sat down with a piece of paper and wrote out the exact story of how I wanted my labor to begin.

I wrote that I would wake up at 5:30 AM, feeling peaceful, and my waters would break naturally.

On the morning Jack decided to make his entrance, my eyes blinked open in the quiet dawn. I looked at the clock.

It was exactly 5:30 AM.

Because I lacked access to a home-birth midwife twenty years ago, the hospital was my ultimate destination, but I laboured at home for as long as possible.

By 8:00 PM, labor felt incredibly easy and comfortable. It was so peaceful in my home sanctuary that I actually wondered if I should be suffering a bit more.

However, around 11:00 PM, fear crept in. I noticed I had lost my mucus plug, but not knowing what it was at the time, I wasn't sure if it was normal.

Out of caution and fear, we left for the hospital.

The moment that anxiety took over and I tensed up against the transition, physical pain instantly followed—especially when they wanted to examine me internally at 8 centimetres dilated.

But once I was settled into the labor ward, I remembered how to allow. I pulled my energy inward, silently focusing and surrendering to the natural downward momentum.

The midwife couldn’t believe how well I was handling it.

Jack was born smoothly, and just six hours later, I was walking back out the hospital doors to go home.

Modern medicine is a beautiful, life-saving blessing that many families rightly rely on, but my inner guidance ultimately called me to a path of deep, instinctual surrender.

Months later, the universe delivered one final, jaw-dropping exclamation point.

During my pregnancy, I had pinned a picture of a blonde baby boy onto my vision board. It was just a magazine clipping that carried the feeling of the son I was calling into the world.

One day, my husband and I took a candid photograph of Jack resting. Looking at the snapshot, the breath caught in my throat. I grabbed the old vision board and held it up next to the camera.

I hadn’t just scripted a birth; I had literally drawn his exact physical essence from the vortex of creation into my arms.