Sometimes fear does not subside and 

one must choose to do it afraid."  

- Elisabeth Elliott

The other questions were answered in due time. I did have severe morning sickness again (which lead to me losing 20 pounds and having to wean Ella sooner than she or I preferred.) But the all day nausea and vomiting was gone by the middle of the second trimester. (A welcome relief since it went on my entire pregnancy the first time.) I did a lot of snuggling on the couch with Ella watching Sesame Street during those months but we made it. We found out around 16 weeks that we were waiting on another baby girl and Trevor's brief tinge of disappointment over not having a son yet was quickly followed by the positive thought of us already having all the necessary hand-me-downs. 😉

In general the pregnancy seemed to be better in several respects: less sickness, I didn't have to travel like before, I didn't gain as much weight, etc. I certainly had a mover and a shaker (and a hiccuper!) growing inside...she made herself known with unmistakable tiny kicks at 15 weeks and kept the party rocking from there on out. The bigger she got, the more the fear while trying to imagine having two kids gripped me. It stemmed from the total second mom cliché of not knowing how I would or could possibly love another baby as much as I loved Ella. Which blossomed into subfears like how would Ella cope with seeing me take care of another baby? How would she, newly weaned (and pretty devastated about it), feel seeing me nurse another baby? How much of Ella learning and doing and saying new things will I miss if I'm having to devote tons of time to the new baby? How would I juggle getting both of them to sleep since Ella is not easy in any way when it comes to sleep. My mind made it its mission to find almost any way having two kids would be difficult and I spent time subconsciously worrying about it. And then I reached a point, around 30 weeks I think, where I realized "Oh crap. I have to give birth...again." Now this seems like an obvious conclusion a pregnant woman should have come to terms with a lot sooner (especially one who has already done it) but it didn't really hit me until then. And I was surprised that my having experienced it once before didn't alleviate the stress or fear of knowing it was coming but instead kinda intensified it. I had a fairly easy first birth considering the struggles first time moms often run into. I didn't have an epidural (or reach a point where I even contemplated having one), my contractions were generally very bearable even on pitocin, I had her 9 days before her due date, my water broke spontaneously at home with no other signs of labor, and I had her within 10 hours and she came after only 3 pushes. I had some 2nd degree tearing and quite a few stitches but nothing utterly devastating. One part of me was chill assuming without a doubt I was in for a similar experience (possibly even easier!) but the other side of me was in sheer panic knowing every baby and pregnancy, and therefore every birth, is completely different and I could be in for a nightmarish insanely difficult second birth. Whoo-hoo. 😬🎉

I had an appointment at 35.5 weeks and my doctor mentioned checking my cervix if I wanted her to. I had been checked weekly from 36 weeks on with Ella and the information obtained clued us in to the fact that she was possibly coming early (and she did!) So I was all for it this time too. "Yooou're about....a fingertip dilated. Almost 1 cm but not quite. Baby's head is very low." Since I had been 1 cm at my 36 week appointment with Ella it seemed like I was shaping up to have a similar timeline this go around. A friend from church threw me a gorgeous baby shower the day I was 36 weeks and one of the activities for the evening was everyone guessing baby girl's birth weight, length, eye color, hair color, aaaand birthdate. We all discussed how of course she was gonna be early because, duh, Ella was. There was no way I'd go past 38 weeks 5 days. I would definitely be having Baby Sissy (since she was still very much nameless then) in less than 3 weeks. So soon! Yay! I got a pedicure and manicure that next week to celebrate being so close and to have cute hands and feet during labor, duh. 😏

With Ella I progressed significantly from week to week (1 cm at 36 weeks to a loose 3 cm and 75% effaced at 37 weeks) so I expected the same as I went in for my appointment at 36 weeks 4 days this time. Turns out I was still holding steady between a fingertip and 1 cm dilated and about 60% effaced. But she reiterated that every pregnancy and baby is different so this didn't mean I wouldn't go early...nor did it mean I would. My next appointment at 37 weeks 4 days I thought for sure I'd have progressed further but guess who was still at 1 cm and about 60-70% effaced. I had promised myself I wouldn't get discouraged  because its common to not dilate at all until actual labor begins but I have to admit...I was bummed. Surely I was gonna have her any day...right? Surely I'd have her at 38 weeks 5 days or sooner...right? The back pain had settled in. Her head was SO LOW my doctor kept saying she had to move it aside just to check me properly. She hiccuped all. the. time. Don't get me wrong, in utero hiccups are pretty adorable but she got them so frequently that I actually ended up googling if too many hiccups was concerning. And, just like most things you google, there were plenty of articles saying it could very well be a serious cause for worry (it can apparently be an indicator for a prolapsed or compressed umbilical cord.) I started frantically scrambling for our at home doppler to check for her heartbeat anytime her movement seemed to decrease. I held my belly weeping one night during a particularly long hiccup session just yearning to have her safe in my arms for fear that something was going to happen between then and her birth. 

There were several nights that next week I woke up with contractions that felt like they could be going somewhere. I never officially timed them but they often felt close together. Hold your stones please but contractions are generally not painful for me so there was always the thought that if my water didn't break at home like it did with Ella I wouldn't know, just based on contractions, if I was in labor until it was too late and I'd have an accidental home birth or have her in the car on the way. 😆 I'd feel a few grouped together and then shut my eyes tight trying to get back to sleep like a kid trying to make Christmas morning come faster since I've heard no one can sleep through true labor contractions. Many times I would doze off smiling, pretty convinced that I'd be waking up shortly, certain it was time to head to the hospital. But morning after morning I'd wake up and nothing had happened. I was drinking 3 large cups of red raspberry leaf tea daily, eating 3 huge dates everyday for lunch, sucking down as much fresh pineapple as I could without exploding, and bouncing on a birth ball like it was an Olympic sport. I guess having Ella early just really spoiled me because I never could settle into the fact that I might have awhile left to wait. It became completely exhausting being on the edge of my seat at any moment before her due date, thinking every thing I did could be "the last time before baby!"

At my 38.5 weeks appointment I held my breath as she once again went to check progression, pushing past baby's head. It was actually rather validating for her to comment on how lowww baby's head was each time so I didn't feel like I was exaggerating when I said it felt like my pelvis was splitting in two when I walked around.😝 I nearly burst into tears when she said "You're at 2cm now and 80% effaced and baby has definitely dropped; she's at -2 station!" Finallyyyy some progress! I called my mom and my mother-in-law Michelle on the way home from my appointment freaking out...mostly because I had forgotten it’s negative stations first and then positive. I was imagining for 5 spastic seconds that she was at +2 station like “OH MY GOSH SHE’S COMING OUT OF ME!” A quick google search clued me in to the fact that yes, she was dropping but no, she was not falling out. 🤣:: -5 to 0 station is when the "presenting or most palpable (able to feel) part of the baby is above the woman's ischial spines. Sometimes a doctor can't feel the presenting part. This station is known as the "floating." Zero station is when the baby's head is known to be "engaged," or aligned with the ischial spines. Then 0 to +5 station; positive numbers are used when a baby has descended beyond the ischial spines. During birth a baby is at the +4 to +5 station. 

But it still seemed promising! My middle of the night contractions were doing something! Maybe I wouldn't be pregnant forever after all! My mother-in-law and I determined baby was surely coming sooner than later. She, who was in Atlanta for work at the time, decided the best bet would be to go ahead and change her flight home the next day to come straight to Alexandria instead. Noni was coming for baby's arrival! Things were getting real now!

The days seemed like weeks as everything intensified: the random contractions, her hiccups, my back pain, my combined efforts to start labor, but mostly my impatience. 38 weeks 5 days came and went and something in me snapped. I was officially more pregnant than ever before and I was so over all of it. 39 weeks came and went and it wrecked me. I had such an emotional pendulum swinging back and forth between my feelings for each of my girls. One second I just WANTED TO HAVE MY BABY ALREADY to finally meet her and know that she was alright but the next moment I would fall to pieces at the thought of Ella not being my baby baby anymore. My mother-in-law endured several rambling rants I conducted exasperatedly atop my birth ball perch. Bouncing and bemoaning my situation was about all I had left in me at that point. But Michelle did all she could to distract me and Ella. Shopping, a zoo visit, long walks around our neighborhood, Chick-fil-a runs, and going to the park kept me moving and Ella occupied. But after hours of walking around the zoo followed a few days after by literally chasing Ella up 3 huge hills at the park I and my jelly legs were convinced walking a baby out is simply impossible. It's a myth. It's not a thing. If anyone was going to walk a baby out it would've been me after everything I did.
I went to the chiropractor thinking maybe my body wasn't properly aligned to go into labor...but I left more sore and out of sorts than ever. And then Thursday arrived: my 39 weeks 4 days appointment. I was both shocked and numb to have gotten to that point. Even my doctor seemed surprised I hadn't gone into labor that week.
She checked aaaand, "3cm! And you're pretty much completely effaced...paper thin!" I should've been jumping for joy but I just groaned. No more getting my hopes up. I confided in her how frustrated and tired I was and how stupid that felt since I wasn't even to my due date. "My mother-in-law is supposed to fly home Sunday and I just can't believe I haven't had her yet! Surely she'll come before Sunday, right??" Dr. McLemore just smiled and said "You know, someone who was coming in tomorrow for an induction had her baby early so my schedule is freed up for another one. I could just induce you tomorrow if you want." My eyes got wide and I was frozen in my tracks unable to respond much more than "Uhhhh.....what, I mean, so...how would...so like...she'd be here tomor....what?" She laughed and said, "You'd come check into Labor and Delivery tomorrow morning at 5:30. We'll start you on a mild pitocin drip to get things started, I don't think you'l need much. Maybe break your water, you should be good to go! It's up to you though!" My mind was running in a million different directions and I realized I had to call Trevor to get his opinion. The phone call lasted literally less than a minute: "My doctor said she could induce me in the morning so we'd have a baby tomorrow." His response? "Sounds great. Let's do it. Love you, bye!" So I called my mom because I needed someone to give me a longer opinion. 😂 She did have more thoughts and questions to ask. My doctor suggested we go ahead and schedule the induction and assured me that if I changed my mind at any point before 5:30 the next morning I could just call and cancel. On the drive home I was practically shaking, my mind still reeling. Inductions get such a bad rap in a lot of circles so part of me felt inclined that maybe it was the wrong decision.  It's always better to let your body do its thing naturally, right? But deep down how did I honestly feel? In my mind, I was taking into account that I went into labor on my own, water breaking and all, no intervention with Ella and I was still put on pitocin in order to speed up the process to avoid infection. And my body responded totally fine to it, resulting in zero complications and I wasn't in excruciating, begging for an epidural pain. I was already on the brink of labor as far as how much I was dilated and effaced so it would most likely take very little help to get my body going. I had a photographer hired who lived almost 2 hours away so we'd for sure be able to get her there in time. My sister Holly lives 4 hours away and she, who I wanted in my delivery room just like with Ella, would also be able to get there in time without having to rush at some crazy hour with no guarantee that she'd make it. And oh man, the thought of being able to fully know that it was my last day having just Ella instead of being caught off guard who knows when, having to leave her at a moment's notice, possibly in visible pain which might scare her. It certainly could be done and she would be fine but I wanted this to be as smooth an ordeal for her as possible. And Michelle would get the whole weekend with the baby before having to go home. And really best of all, I'd meet my baby tomorrow!! AND! OH MY GOODNESS TOMORROW IS MARCH 15th! This might sound ridiculous and like a silly, perhaps unwise reason to make such a weighty decision but when I realized that this baby could have a birthday on the 15th just like Ella (November 15th) I was sold. 🙈I got home and rattled all those reasons off to my mom who was playing with Ella while Michelle was on a business call in Trevor's office. "Have you told her yet?" I asked my mom motioning towards the office door and she said she hadn't. Michelle coming out of the office when she was done was a moment that will be imprinted on my brain forever. She came out and I said "You wanna meet this baby tomorrow?" Her jaw dropped and she said "Why...why are you asking me that? Are you serious? Oh my gosh I have chills!" I filled her in on the situation and she was all for it. We ran to shop for some last minute things for me and let Ella play some at the park. I happily swung my ginormous self with her, overjoyed I had only one day of this pregnancy left. When we got home I rocked Ella for her nap, cradling her precious toddler body resting on my belly bump, soaking her up, memorizing her little self before she looked huge next to a newborn. After a pregnancy riddled with fear and worry despite so many positive aspects, here I was facing a circumstance that could be viewed as less than optimal and I felt so much peace...and excitement! After weeks of being  sinfully impatient but also terrified, I finally felt ready. As ready as I could be of course. 😬

Trevor brought home food from our favorite Italian restaurant that night and we just enjoyed a quiet evening. I didn't feel overwhelmed or stressed as I double checked our hospital bags. I laid out the outfit I wanted Ella to wear when she met her baby sister (OH MY GOSH THIS WAS REALLY HAPPENING.) I showered and got Ella and I into our pajamas, snapping some mirror selfies to commemorate our last night of "just us."  She asked to rock and I absolutely obliged, lingering awhile even after she fell asleep. I climbed into bed with her and let some bittersweet tears fall onto her curls cascading over my pillow and I drifted off to sleep being hyperaware of how it felt to have one baby on the outside and one baby in. 

Trevor and I were up and at 'em about 4:30. I was jittery and nervous but more slaphappy than scared. We got dressed, I threw my hair up in a "don't wanna mess with you when things get real later" bun, and got some makeup on. (This sounds dumb and I know this might not happen for any possible future labors of mine but I sure have appreciated being able to peacefully put on a face of makeup before both of my babies arrived. 😆) Michelle got out of her bed and slipped into ours next to Ella. I kissed my big girl's cheeks and whispered how much I loved her into her ear as she snoozed on. I grabbed a cardigan because it was an unusually chilly morning and we hopped in the truck...off to meet our baby! As we drove I realized I hadn't put together a birth playlist like I had wanted to. I had taken months, pouring over making one for my labor with Ella and never ended up listening to it on D-Day. But I thought I might want some music this go around. I contemplated just using the one I made for Ella but I realized, scrolling through it, how reflective it was of where my heart was at during my pregnancy with Ella...so different! For this time I had this intense craving for hymns/worship songs about God strengthening us in our weakness. In the 10 minutes it took us to get to the hospital I had chosen 12 songs that I thought might be helpful later in the day. (Sooo sooo glad this happened. Ended up being a game changer...)

Trevor snapped a few photos of me cheesing in front of the hospital entrance. We walked in and, with it being so early, it was a ghost town; just us. We got on the elevator and as we were going up I felt a trickle down my leg. I gasped and said "Oh my gosh. Either my water just broke or I legit just peed on myself." Spoiler alert: It was the latter. After two full pregnancies of me somehow avoiding the dreaded common pregnancy struggle of "accidents" caused by a bladder plagued with a small human's weight resting on it -- I finally got my turn. 🙄 We checked in at the desk as I nervously shifted from foot to foot. We were shown to a room and I was told to change into the hospital gown (yay for dry clothes🤦‍♀️) and settle in. Trevor and I chilled, giggling and "fighting" over who would catch up on sleep in my hospital bed before anyone came in. (There was no moment during Ella's labor when it was just us two so I really loved the half hour or so we had this time.) 
Eventually someone came in with a million questions and papers for me to sign, put my hospital bracelets on, got the heartbeat and contraction monitors placed, read through protocol yada yada yada. Three student nurses came in during this process to observe. (Every one of them complimented my nails being done like it was a really big deal. "Ohhh you got your nails done! Wow! So cute!" Guess that was an "extra" thing for me to have done? Who knows. 😂) The question "Plans for anesthesia?" was asked and I said "You mean do I want an epidural? Not currently planning on one, no." The woman stopped and said "You're being induced with pitocin, right? You don't want an epidural when those contractions kick in?" I told her as far as I knew, as long as this labor was similar to my first I wasn't planning on having one. The student nurses all seemed shocked and started asking me a ton of questions about me having Ella natural. Two of them were around my age or younger and didn't have kids so they were amazed. I told them I guess I have a high pain tolerance since in my experience contractions weren't very painful for the most part. They looked at the 3rd student nurse who was older and apparently does have kids and she shook her head and said "Ok I'm sorry, no. They hurt. Bad. I was holding onto my nurse weeping and screaming with every contraction. I got an epidural ASAP." Crazy how different every woman's experience can be! 😳Once everything was answered and signed and my I.V. was placed they let me know Dr. McLemore had arrived but she had just delivered her second baby of the morning and was heading right into a C-section and another of her patients was in active labor in the room next to mine. (Busy day!) One of the student nurses peeked at my monitor and pointed out, as they all filed out of my room, that I was currently having contractions (about 10 minutes apart.) Literally couldn't feel them. I'm a weirdo. 😂

Trevor went down to the cafeteria to get breakfast and brought me back a cinnamon roll not knowing I wasn't allowed to eat. Bless his heart (and my stomach that immediately began growling at the sight of that blasted little iced pastry.) Ice chips only for me. 😩My mom and Holly showed up around 8:00 and we chatted nonchalantly as we waited for something to get started. Michelle texted me to let me know Ella was awake and eating breakfast. She said after we left she only woke up once, felt around for me in the bed and when she realized it was Michelle beside her, she grabbed her face and said "Noni?", looked at her suspiciously for a moment or two, fretted for a little bit but then went back to sleep. All good on the home front! But then Michelle texted my mom saying "The only words Ella knows today are "Where is Mommy? I want Mommy." My mom laughed and read the text aloud to me and it hit me harder than I would've expected it to; my eyes instantly filling with tears. Wow, being away from her was going to be just as tough or tougher than I had thought. But she sent a quick follow up text to reassure me Ella was doing great, no worries. They turned on Daniel Tiger and the episode that just happened to be queued up was about him getting a little sister -- so perfect! 😭About 9:15 my nurse Courtney was in to start my pitocin drip super low at 2 units. And at 9:30 Dr. "Deliver as many babies as possible before 10AM"  (seriously, what a champ!) came in to break my water. I was curious what this experience would be like having it done manually since it had broken at home on its own with Ella. Dr. McLemore chatted away as she inserted the little hook and within seconds she "got it!" But...nothing happened. No fluid. That's strange. Upon further inspection she discovered my bag of waters had two layers! No problem...off to take care of the second layer! She began to prod again and, I kid you not, it sounded like someone pinching and snapping the outside of a balloon. Cringe! It took quite a bit of elbow grease (poke, pull, nothing, repeat) until finally *pop* we got our gush. She checked me (remarking how she felt a TON of hair on baby's head) and I was dilated to about 4-5 cm. Time to call my photographer! She had already come to town and been waiting on standby for me to hit that 4 cm mark. Dr. McLemore looked at my monitor and said contractions were doing good, getting somewhat consistent. They appeared to be going back and forth between long contractions that were far apart or short contractions that were close together. Hmmm. Bummer. 😕 That sounded discouraging to me. "They need to be both long and close together to be doing anything, right?" I asked. She laughed, "Oh they're totally doing something. Every labor is different! Contractions are contractions -- no matter the pattern, their goal is always moving baby down and out. You're doing great!" Phew...reassurance! 

My photographer Tiffany arrived at 10:30 and settled in, snapping a few of the "nothing much yet" that was going on. They had raised my pitocin drip to about 4 units and my nurse let me know Dr. McLemore had said she wanted me no higher than 10 units. I was still doing fine...not feeling any pain though the monitor showed the contractions were getting stronger. The student nurses continued to pop their heads in and marvel at the phenomenon of the girl who couldn't feel her contractions. 😂 "You can't feel anything?!" 😧I would laugh and shrug. "I mean...I can tell my uterus is tightening, yes. It feels like something...but not pain. It's like a mild period cramp...maybe? Not even quite that uncomfortable. I don't know." Meanwhile Trevor was napping (homeboy took 3 naps that day and would periodically pop up and say "Do we have a baby yet?!" Bless him. 😂It's how he coped with the stress and suspense of waiting and to take his mind off what was coming next. He literally almost didn't make it during Ella's labor so I was all for him using any means necessary to stay calm and sane.) The nurse brought me a birth ball and encouraged me to stay on it and rock back and forth as long as I could to keep things moving along. ALSO. She saw me bouncing at one point and said "Oh don't bounce. That doesn't do anything. Rocking left to right is what opens your pelvis and helps baby move down...just fyi." I HAD BEEN BOUNCING ON THAT STUPID BIG BLUE BALL AT HOME FOR WEEKS and APPARENTLY it was doing NOTHING. Ugh. Still bitter. Sorry not sorry. 😝 

Around 12 I encouraged my parents, Holly, Trevor, and my photographer to all go grab lunch. Nothing was happening any time soon from the way I was feeling so it'd be better for them to eat while they could instead of waiting and missing a good window. They were super reluctant and wanted to wait for the doctor to come check me again so they could know for sure I wasn't anywhere close. A nurse came in at 12:30 to check and I was only at a 6. I'd only progressed a centimeter in over 2 hours. Definitely still had a while to go. They finally all gave in and went off to eat at 12:45. I did my thing, popped in my AirPods, listened to some of my playlist, scrolled through social media, texted updates to a few friends...chilled. They had raised my pit drip to 6 units and though I could feel the contractions; I still wasn't in pain, having to breathe through them, etc. At one point I got a little paranoid -- "What if I just randomly am ready to go and they're all gone. 😳" 

Everyone got back about an hour later. My nurse came in to raise the pit to 8 units and I was a little nervous that nothing seemed to be significantly changing considering Dr. McLemore didn't want me any higher than 10 units. The nurse reassured me I wouldn't need anymore than 10 and even if I camped out at that dose until I had her, that was the plan. I had a contraction or two during which I squeezed my mom or Trevor's hand until it passed but would've ranked them as uncomfortable more than painful. 
I got back down from the bed and continued rocking along on my ball talking about how my legs were getting the workout of their life. "Seriously, my legs are more sore than my uterus!" I joked. Then I instantly had this overwhelming sense of sleepiness. Literally like when you've taken a medication that causes drowsiness and you suddenly feel heavy and can't keep your eyes open. "Man, I'm really tiring myself out here on this ball I guess." My mom asked what I meant and I said, "I don't know. It's the weirdest thing. Like I could get in the bed and conk out right now. But I know I have to keep rocking so my labor doesn't stall. It would totally stall if I tried to sleep." We all nodded and I continued to drunkenly rock. A few minutes passed and I broke the silence again. "Gosh, I wish I knew how bad of an idea it would be for me to doze off for just a little bit." My mom decided to just ask a nurse...if they said no, they said no. Can't hurt asking. She got to the desk and told Courtney how I was feeling and you would've thought she won the lottery. Her hands shot up and she said "Yes! This is PERFECT! Literally TEXTBOOK!" My mom was confused. "I'm serious! Tell her to get in bed right now! Sleep if she can! Yessss. Oh my gosh this is great. She's having an oxytocin dump! It's her body getting ready to do this thing. If she naps for a few minutes I swear she'll wake up complete and ready to push. Mark my words." My mom brought the news back to me and I honestly thought Courtney was obviously a little cuckoo. My contractions weren't strong enough or close enough together. I was only dilated to 6 cm. I just needed a nap for goodness sake. There was no way I was about to be able to sleep and then wake up pushing a baby out. Fake news. 🤪😂But hey, I got clearance to nap...that's a win!

At 2:30 I climbed into bed, turned my playlist back on in my AirPods to drown out everything and genuinely get some rest. My contractions were totally far enough apart and mild enough that I foresaw no problem in falling completely asleep. I closed my eyes as "He Will Hold Me Fast", "Ellie Holcomb's "He Will Give the Weary Strength", and Jimmy Needham's "If I Ever Needed Grace" played.
As that song ended, a HARD contraction hit me like a ton of bricks out of nowhere. I furrowed my brow, instinctively tensing up and then immediately tried to counter that reflex, take deep breaths and relax. Wow. That was strange. My mom walked over and rubbed my arm to check on me. I opened my eyes and she showed me a picture Michelle had just texted of Ella napping. I should've been overjoyed to see she had managed to fall asleep without me but I suddenly felt cloudy and disoriented from that killer contraction.
I tried to shake it off and get back to resting as "All Glory Be to Christ" began to play. BAM. Another crazy intense contraction began to build. I grabbed my mom's hand and squirmed, mentally urging it to stop. It ended and I said "Ok. Ouch. Those randomly hurt." I tried to relax as a few painless minutes passed. I reached a certain point in my labor with Ella where contractions got just painful enough to disorient me and my midwife had given me a couple shots of Fentanyl (basically a strong form of Tylenol) to tide me through the last hour or so because I was losing focus. I briefly had the thought that maybe I should ask for something like that now because I didn't love the idea of enduring many more level 10 contractions without some kind of backup. A nurse had walked in to readjust the heart rate and contraction monitors that had shifted, giving them unclear readings. I planned to ask for something when they finished but here came another harsh contraction crashing into me. Another song began...it was the song I walked down the aisle to: Jadon Lavik's version of "Be Still my Soul."

To guide the future as He has the past.

Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;

All now mysterious shall be bright at last."

The song that ushered me to my husband was about to usher in our second daughter. The contraction peaked, making me bend into the side of the bed desperately trying to breathe and as it faded, in one swift motion I felt an indescribable, overwhelming sensation...baby girl slipped down, engaged, and was coming. out. of. me. 😱 

"She's coming out! She's coming out! She's. coming. OUT!" I shouted while lifting up from the bed and frantically grasping around trying to hold on to something. The nurse caught a glance between my legs and saw baby crowning. "Uhhh yes she is!" she said as she flung herself onto my legs, pulling my knees together. "Wait! Dr. McLemore will be right in here!" 

Wait?! There's no waiting, lady. My body was about to do this thing whether anybody was ready or not. With Ella I had been periodically checked and so they knew when I was at 7, 8, 9, and then 10cm at which point they let me know it was time to start trying to push. But this time? It was something happening whether somebody asked me to push or not. 😂Dr. McLemore swooped into the room with gloves and cape on, flashing her million dollar smile. They spread my legs and got me into position as baby continued to shove her little head down hard causing my body to bear down on its own. I didn't make a sound other than "I can't do this!" while pushing with Ella (granted she came out after 1 practice and 2 real pushes so there wasn't much time to make any noise 😬) so it took me a little off guard when I started involuntarily screaming through each contraction/push. (I apologize to every Hollywood birth scene that I have rolled my eyes at after having Ella; judging these actresses for going a little overboard with the screaming while pushing. Apparently it actually does happen sometimes. 🙈
I pushed a couple times and could feel her beginning to go past crowning but then it seemed like she was GOING BACK IN. Ohhhhh nooooo ma'am! This is not like when you stick your toe in the pool and decide it's too cold so you head back to the house. This is NOT like walking in a restaurant and realizing it's too crowded so you leave. YOU'RE COMING WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT KIDDO. Because Ella had come out so quickly, before I could even fully process how much pushing sucks, this pushing a couple times and feeling what seemed like the opposite of progress was NOT going over well for me. I groaned in despair after a third push that resulted in the same sensation of her taking two steps forward and one step back. Not to mention her just hanging out in limbo hurt kind of a whole lot. 😝 "Noooo!" I shouted at the end of the third push followed by a mix of primal and exasperating shouts. Dr. McLemore said "It's ok! Listen, you have some scar tissue from tearing during your first delivery. Naturally our bodies are made to stretch but scar tissue is stiffer so you're having to work against that. I know, I know it hurts like heck...it's called the Ring of Fire for a reason!" (Yeah, another thing I questioned when I would hear other mothers bemoaning the trials of labor. The Ring of Fire? Ella came so fast I didn't experience that. But lucky me, this second go around Johnny Cashed me right up. I gave a few more solid pushes, downright fed up that this was taking sooo looong (seriously, the whole 9 days early, 3 push ordeal spoiled me good) and Dr. McLemore and Courtney kept saying, "Girl you are doing AMAZING! You are a CHAMPION! She is almost out! You are rocking this! You can wait until another contraction, give yourself a break! Let your body naturally help you out!"
I knew what they meant...there was a very noticeable difference in pushing without a contraction and pushing during one. Doing it on your own is like trying to push a heavy piece of furniture across the floor and it literally not budging even though you're putting all your might into it. The latter of which, though painful, is as if you were pushing that piece of furniture with 5 other people...you put your two cents of strength in but there's combined strength from another source helping you out and the piece of furniture actually starts to move. Don't know if that makes sense but I tried to be patient and wait despite the pain of letting her just be hanging out in the "doorway." 😵"One more contraction and she'll be out!" Dr. McLemore shouted! Buuut she wasn't. Ugh. I reached for my mom's hand to squeeze to help channel some effort but Courtney said, "You got this, you got this by yourself! You don't have to hold her hand. Concentrate!" (But sometimes you just need to hold your mama's hand.😉) Thankfully Dr. McLemore wasn't too far off with her estimation. With one very last contraction and one big push I saw baby girl's face and reached down as the rest of her slipped out and Dr. McLemore handed her right to me. 😭3:08pm, she was born AT LAST! What felt like forever compared to pushing her sister out had only been 8 intense minutes. Pardon my drama. 😂

I had an instant rush of déjà vu as I caught my first glimpse of her. It felt like I was looking at fresh-born Ella all over again. I went back and forth from tearful to smiley as I took her and how much I loved her all in. "Happy birthday, baby! Awesome job, mama! And NO tearing!" Dr. McLemore exclaimed. What a relief!! One of my biggest fears and the Lord had graciously spared me. My second thought as I pulled her to me was how tiny she felt! "Ohhh she looks like Ella! But she feels so much smaller than Ella! Did I just forget how small a baby like this felt? She feels soooo little! Look at her hair! Oh she's here! I did it!" I rested her on my chest and just basked in all the feelings, soooo thankful to have her and to have finished the race of pregnancy and labor safely once again. And she wasn't ginormous like I had feared! Having had an 8 pound baby who was over a week early made me terrified that this baby, born 7 gestational days later, would be a 9 or 10 pounder. Trevor cut the cord (Yay! Trevor survived another labor of mine! An indescribable feat!) My placenta came slipping out shortly thereafter. I remarked how I kinda felt like things were stinging down below. "Are you sure I didn't tear? I'm sore and stinging. Should it be stinging if I didn't tear?" I said as they were cleaning everything up. In unison my doctor and nurses all said, "YOU JUST PUSHED A HUMAN OUT." Oh...yeah. Guess even without tearing it's not gonna feel grand directly after. 😂

One of the most confusing and traumatic parts of my post-birth with Ella was that I didn't nurse  her (wasn't asked if I wanted to nurse, wasn't encouraged to try to nurse, wasn't shown how to nurse, etc....still so many question marks surrounding this experience) until over 6 hours after she was born. It resulted in lots of negative outcomes (just one piece of the massive puzzle that lead to my postpartum depression I now believe...a totally different story for a very different time.) I was determined to put my foot down and, Lord willing, have a better experience this time. Within 15 minutes of her reaching my chest I asked about nursing her and they immediately helped get me into position to do so. Within a few seconds of her instinctively rooting around for the source, she latched right on perfectly and began taking huge gulps. 😭😍

Contrary to me feeling like I had no tangible skin-to-skin time or the longed for golden hour with Ella (another PPD trigger), once this baby girl was in my arms, it was incredibly obvious that the goal of everyone around me was to keep her there undisturbed for as long as possible. After I filled her belly I just marveled at every preciously pink inch of her. I noticed her ridiculously long fingers and processed the similarities and differences I saw in her face compared to Ella. Not only did a glorious hour pass in this blissful state -- I had her in my arms TWO WHOLE HOURS before they offered to weigh and measure her.
At that point I was more than ready to know her stats so I happily handed her off (mostly because they did it all right there in my room.😉) "19.5 inches long!" An inch longer than Ella, I thought to myself, but still a shorty! "And she's 7lb. 7.6oz...so we'll round it up to 7½ pounds for her records." I knew it! She is tinier than Ella was! Over half a pound tinier! They got her slender little footprints, put the ointment in her eyes, etc. and then back in my arms she went. It had only been about 15 minutes without her but I genuinely missed her while she was gone. 😂

Shortly after they wheeled us to our permanent room and she got passed around between Daddy, Grandmama, Aunt Holly, and her Noni's arms. As I laid there watching them all fall in love with her I was overwhelmed by how beautiful this all had been. After being afraid of so much while carrying her, worrying about everything under the sun including her arrival, I was in awe of how well it had turned out. The Lord of course would've been just as worthy of glory and praise no matter how her birth would've gone but I am so grateful for how positive and redemptive a story He had written for this baby girl's birth. There were several particularly negative things from my first experience that He allowed to be the exact opposite this time. I felt like so many of the specific things I dreaded happening again were clearly seen by my loving heavenly Father and much better outcomes given in their place. So kind. So redemptive. 

Eventually everyone left Trevor and I to FINALLY name this child! All day I had been asked what her name was and we had to keep saying "We'll decide when we see her!" over and over. And even after we saw her face we wanted a moment, just us two with her, to fully choose. I had really wanted Dawn to be her middle name to honor both of our mamas who we both owe so much to (Michelle Dawn and Darla Dawn!). The verse “Let us know, let us press on to know the LORD. His going forth is as certain as the dawn; And He will come to us like the rain, Like the spring rain watering the earth." ~ Hosea 6:3 was also a positive association with the name for me. With her being a spring baby, I loved how this verse uses both the dawn and the spring as pictures of the Lord’s faithfulness to come, to help, to be near. Trevor had prayed over the end of my pregnancy so fervently that having her would fill me with the sense of the nearness and help of God and I couldn’t summarize my experience of labor any better than that. I thought of her as my Dawn and My Spring — my reminder that God is right here with me and He will just keep showing up no matter what. We had a very short list of possibilities for her first name and Emilia was the one name that had been on the list since day one and had survived countless veto sessions. Both Trevor and I liked the idea of Emmy being a nickname for it. In that moment of us being alone Trevor mentioned that he actually found himself liking the name Emmy by itself more than Emilia and asked how I felt. But I didn't care for the sound of Emmy Ruby or Emmy Dawn so much and thought Emilia Dawn just had a beautiful flow. It also had the potential of being Emillia (two Ls) which would carry on a tradition of sorts. My mom spelled my name Allix purposefully since my sister's name is Holly. And that was a factor in me loving Ella's name as well. After my explanation of all this to Trevor and me insisting he could exclusively call her Emmy if he wanted to, he was sold. Emillia Dawn Ruby she was. 😍

And now, just as I didn't feel complete even after that glorious day until our family of four was all together, so this story doesn't feel complete without giving a look into Ella meeting her baby sister for the first time. We had purposefully chosen to wait until the next day for Ella to come to the hospital so we could have the whole evening getting to know Emmy and so Ella could be well rested from both a nap and a full night's sleep. We had FaceTimed her a few times to let her see Baby Sissy to try to prepare her little mind and she seemed excited to meet her.
But the next morning my fretful feelings started to return as we waited for my parents to bring her. Yeah, my birth had been better than I expected but surely all the negative things I had worried about concerning them meeting were about to come to pass. Out of all the countless ways I imagined the moment playing out, nothing could’ve prepared me for how it actually happened. I nervously slipped Emmy's arms into the sister shirt that gaped over her tiny frame. It matched the one I knew Ella would be wearing since I had picked it out the night before labor for this occasion. So many frantic thoughts were reeling through my mind. “She’s gonna be freaked out to see me in a hospital bed. She’s gonna be emotional about how much she has missed me. She’ll be jealous of me holding a baby. She’ll be overwhelmed and not know how to process the whole situation.” I barely knew how to take it all in as Trevor walked Ella through the door and her eyes went STRAIGHT to Emillia and it was love at first sight like I’ve never encountered before. (It was like I wasn't even there!) She was in awe with every inch of her baby sister; taking each part in with amazement and wonder in her eyes. She felt each tiny toe and finger and cupped Emmy’s pillowy cheeks in her own suddenly ginormous dimpled toddler hands, reverently stroked her sister’s dark hair and then, as if completely overcome with everything she was feeling she just leaned in and embraced her with her eyes shut tight, whispering “It’s my baby sissy.” Her heart visibly broke with concern as Emmy started to fuss and she clasped both baby’s tiny hands in hers and said “Don’t cry! You’re okay! I’m nice! You feel all better!” It was like no one or thing else was in the room — it was just my two daughters together in some silent magical realm of siblinghood. I didn’t even really cry just from the utter shock of how intense and euphoric it was. Sorry to make it sound overly mystical or dramatic but, at least to my mama eyes and heart, it was one of the most extraordinary, “I could live that over and over AND OVER and never get tired of it” moments of my entire life.