Tyra Humphrey-Smith
June 2026
Tyra
Humphrey-Smith
,
BSN, RN, C-EFM
Long Island Jewish Medical Center
New Hyde Park
,
NY
United States
I am honored to recognize Tyra because she didn’t just help me deliver my son. She protected my experience, my autonomy, and my future in a way I will never forget.
The hardest part of my labor wasn’t the pain; it was the waiting. The not knowing. The feeling of being in my own body but not in control of what was happening or when it would end. I remember wondering how much longer I could keep going, feeling overwhelmed by the uncertainty.
And then there was Tyra.
From the very beginning, she met me with a kind of honesty and calm that grounded me. She didn’t sugarcoat anything, but she never left me in the dark. She explained everything: the why, the when, the how, in a way that made me feel like I wasn’t just along for the ride, but actually part of the process.
She introduced spinning babies’ techniques, training she pursued on her own to better support her patients, and explained not just what we were doing, but why it mattered. She shared that she had a C-section herself, and because of that, she made it her mission to help other women have the birth they hoped for whenever possible.
That stayed with me. Because for me, this wasn’t just about delivering my first baby. I have always dreamed of having a big family, and the thought of a traumatic birth or a C-section made me quietly fear that dream slipping away. I don’t even think I fully said that out loud, but Tyra understood it anyway. And she carried that understanding into every decision she made with me.
She stayed by my side for so much of my labor. She worked seamlessly with my doula, which she recognized from previous deliveries, and together they created an environment where I felt completely supported. At one point, I looked at her and told her that I trusted her completely, that I knew I was in the best hands.
But the moment I will never forget was right before I had to push. I had an anxiety attack. Everything caught up to me at once: the exhaustion, the fear, the weight of knowing I was about to bring my son into the world. I felt like I was losing control. In that moment, Tyra didn’t just step in as a nurse; she anchored me.
I remember her saying, “You’re safe. Your baby is safe. I’m right here with you.” And I believed her. She brought me back into my body. Back into the moment. She helped me find the strength I thought I had lost. Because of her, I made it through. I pushed for less than 30 minutes.
Even in those final moments, when everything is intense and urgent, Tyra never stopped protecting me. She took the time carefully, intentionally to support my body during pushing. She later told me she had used an entire bottle of lubricant to help prevent tearing.
Because of her, I had no perineal tears. That may sound like a small detail to some, but to me, it changed everything. My recovery has been gentle. I’ve been able to truly enjoy my postpartum time with my son instead of struggling through pain. That is a gift she gave me.
After he was born, Tyra didn’t disappear. She protected my rest. And later, she came to see me in my postpartum room. The moment I saw her, I got emotional. Because I realized something very clearly: I had been able to focus on bringing my son into the world because she had been taking care of me. Completely. Steadily. Without ever making me feel like a task or a room number.
She made me feel seen. She made me feel safe. She honored my body and my choices every step of the way. If Tyra had not been there, I truly believe my story would be different. I believe I would have ended up with a C-section and a completely different emotional outcome. I believe I would have carried fear into the idea of having more children.
Instead, because of her, I look back on the birth of Ricardo with strength, pride, and gratitude. She didn’t just help me through labor; she shaped the way I see my own body, my own strength, and my future as a mother. I can say this without hesitation: I want Tyra on my care team for my next child. I would not have it any other way.
I wish every woman could have a Tyra in their birth room, someone who doesn’t just provide care, but protects your experience, your dignity, and your story.
She is everything the DAISY Award stands for.
The hardest part of my labor wasn’t the pain; it was the waiting. The not knowing. The feeling of being in my own body but not in control of what was happening or when it would end. I remember wondering how much longer I could keep going, feeling overwhelmed by the uncertainty.
And then there was Tyra.
From the very beginning, she met me with a kind of honesty and calm that grounded me. She didn’t sugarcoat anything, but she never left me in the dark. She explained everything: the why, the when, the how, in a way that made me feel like I wasn’t just along for the ride, but actually part of the process.
She introduced spinning babies’ techniques, training she pursued on her own to better support her patients, and explained not just what we were doing, but why it mattered. She shared that she had a C-section herself, and because of that, she made it her mission to help other women have the birth they hoped for whenever possible.
That stayed with me. Because for me, this wasn’t just about delivering my first baby. I have always dreamed of having a big family, and the thought of a traumatic birth or a C-section made me quietly fear that dream slipping away. I don’t even think I fully said that out loud, but Tyra understood it anyway. And she carried that understanding into every decision she made with me.
She stayed by my side for so much of my labor. She worked seamlessly with my doula, which she recognized from previous deliveries, and together they created an environment where I felt completely supported. At one point, I looked at her and told her that I trusted her completely, that I knew I was in the best hands.
But the moment I will never forget was right before I had to push. I had an anxiety attack. Everything caught up to me at once: the exhaustion, the fear, the weight of knowing I was about to bring my son into the world. I felt like I was losing control. In that moment, Tyra didn’t just step in as a nurse; she anchored me.
I remember her saying, “You’re safe. Your baby is safe. I’m right here with you.” And I believed her. She brought me back into my body. Back into the moment. She helped me find the strength I thought I had lost. Because of her, I made it through. I pushed for less than 30 minutes.
Even in those final moments, when everything is intense and urgent, Tyra never stopped protecting me. She took the time carefully, intentionally to support my body during pushing. She later told me she had used an entire bottle of lubricant to help prevent tearing.
Because of her, I had no perineal tears. That may sound like a small detail to some, but to me, it changed everything. My recovery has been gentle. I’ve been able to truly enjoy my postpartum time with my son instead of struggling through pain. That is a gift she gave me.
After he was born, Tyra didn’t disappear. She protected my rest. And later, she came to see me in my postpartum room. The moment I saw her, I got emotional. Because I realized something very clearly: I had been able to focus on bringing my son into the world because she had been taking care of me. Completely. Steadily. Without ever making me feel like a task or a room number.
She made me feel seen. She made me feel safe. She honored my body and my choices every step of the way. If Tyra had not been there, I truly believe my story would be different. I believe I would have ended up with a C-section and a completely different emotional outcome. I believe I would have carried fear into the idea of having more children.
Instead, because of her, I look back on the birth of Ricardo with strength, pride, and gratitude. She didn’t just help me through labor; she shaped the way I see my own body, my own strength, and my future as a mother. I can say this without hesitation: I want Tyra on my care team for my next child. I would not have it any other way.
I wish every woman could have a Tyra in their birth room, someone who doesn’t just provide care, but protects your experience, your dignity, and your story.
She is everything the DAISY Award stands for.