Fenna Dawn

Time to share the story of our sweet Fenna Dawn. 

Pregnancy the fourth time around was much better than number 3. It’s always interesting to me to hear different experiences, but for me, being pregnant with the girls was like a dream compared to being pregnant with the boys. 

I felt great for nearly the entire pregnancy with Fenna. Save that first trimester and it’s nausea, and the last couple weeks, which are always the most unpleasant for me. 

So let’s enter the story in that final two-week window. 

My midwife had warned me that since this was my fourth baby I would likely experience more Braxton Hicks than I previously had, and that proved true. Around the last 6 or so weeks I started having contractions daily, and often for hours at a time. Usually they would start in the afternoon and wouldn’t stop until I went to bed. I grew accustomed to them and didn’t pay too much attention to them after a while. However, the last 2 days of pregnancy, I noticed the contractions shifted from the usual kind and seemed to be uncomfortable, even somewhat painful. The first few I wondered if it was real labor, but as I waited, they never increased in frequency, or grew more painful. Again, they went away when I went to bed, so I dismissed it.
So now we come to April 11, and once again, the contractions started up in the afternoon. They were, once again, uncomfortable and somewhat painful, but since there was no real change with them, we carried on like normal. However, that night when I went to bed, the contractions didn’t seem to ease up at all like they had before. I told Sam that these contractions were staying consistent, but that I wanted to go to bed and try to sleep, just in case it was the real thing. 

It was probably about 11:30pm by this time, so we went to sleep. Or at least Sam did. I laid there for a while and tried to sleep, but the contractions were uncomfortable enough that I couldn’t sleep. So I got up around midnight and decided to do some laundry and try to figure out if it was really labor. 

I walked around the kitchen and living room and tried to rest here and there. Nothing really seemed to change much, but the contractions were definitely uncomfortable so around 1:30am, I called my midwife. I felt silly calling her because the contractions hadn’t increased in frequency but since they were uncomfortable and I needed to mildly breathe through them, I figured better safe than sorry. She had also warned me not to wait to call her, as I tend to have babies fast. 

After listening to me have a couple contractions over the phone she decided she would come and check on things, since it takes about an hour for her to get to our house. 

After that, I woke Sam up and told him I’d called the midwife. In his usual form, he jumped out of bed and started rushing around to make sure everything was ready. 

I spent my time walking around in our bedroom and hallway to pass the time. 

At about 2am, I was (finally) fully convinced it was labor. The contractions finally progressed from their constant state of discomfort and mild pain, to the more frequent and intense contractions. So by that point, I was starting to get a little nervous that Winni (midwife) would not make it. Sam calmly told me it was fine if she didn’t make it, and I agreed. We could do it. 

Sam (my hero) made sure everything was ready while I just focused on each contraction until about 2:40am. My water broke with a pop and gushed down my leg.I squeaked out to Sam that my water had broken and I was starting to feel like I needed to push. He managed to get my pants off and at that moment, there was a knock on the door. Thank goodness, Winni was there. Sam told her my water had just broken and that I was feeling like pushing, so she came rushing in to get all her things ready. She quickly stepped out to call her birth assistant, even though we all doubted she would make in time. 

Just as she came back in, I told her I needed to push. I had been leaning on the bed and she told me that it might be better to be on the bed, as sometimes when you deliver standing up, babies can come out too quickly. She suggested a hands and knees position, so as quickly as I could between contractions (and in a most dignified fashion, I'm sure) I catapulted my 38 weeks pregnant self onto the bed. I leaned on my pillows for support and Winni told me to push whenever I was ready, so when the next contraction hit, I started pushing. 

I have no real sense of time in those moments, it seemed like a long time to me, but in a couple quick pushes, her head was out (no ring of fire this time) and Winni was in the middle of asking Sam if he wanted to catch the baby, when another contraction hit and she came out lightning fast. Luckily, Sam was ready and did catch her, and handed her to me. Sam commented later that it was about 2 minutes of pushing. I don’t know how that seemed like a long time to me, but my brain was a bit preoccupied. 

So at 2:51am, there she was. Literally perfect, and the first thing we saw were her gorgeous, giant dimples in each cheek. She cried ever so quietly for a minute and then settled right down. 

In retrospect, I never even experienced that slight panicky feeling that usually accompanies transition for me. Like with Kayo, I'm pretty sure transition happened at the same time my water broke, and it all moved too quickly for me to notice. Total labor time was less than 3 hours, but really only about 51 minutes from the time I was positive it was labor. It’s nice to have babies fast, but it’s definitely intense.

Best part of everything was definitely being at home, in my own bed. Our big babies slept peacefully while their beautiful baby sister joined us. It was perfect. They all slept through the whole event, Lennox woke up around 4am, and got to come see his baby sister. He didn’t want to go back to bed, but eventually he settled back down and around 5am, Winni (and the birth assistant who didn’t make it to the actual birth) headed out and left us to get some sleep. 

Around 7:30am all the kids woke up and got to come meet their baby sister. Everyone was THRILLED to see her, and they have smothered her in kisses every day since she was born. 

I can’t explain how incredibly perfect she is, or how she fits so exactly right into our family. It’s like she has always been here, even though she’s currently only 6 weeks old. Truly thanking the Lord for His goodness in giving her to us, and His mercy in a smooth and simple delivery. 

Fenna Dawn

April 12 (10 days early), 2:51am 

7lbs, 8oz

20 inches

Disappointment

I have set the Lord continually before me; Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad and my glory [my innermost self] rejoices; My body too will dwell [confidently] in safety, For You will not abandon me to Sheol (the nether world, the place of the dead), Nor will You allow Your Holy One to undergo decay.

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭16:8-10‬ ‭AMP‬‬

I have spent a lot of time thinking about disappointment. Not because I’m currently navigating it, but because it seems to be one of those things that visits infrequently enough that we’re not really ready for it when it does. 

I think sometimes we (ok, just me?) fear disappointment more than anything else. 

I think disappointment is the one thing that keeps us from truly walking with God, fully and wholly. It’s the line of distance between us. We keep full trust at bay so we aren’t disappointed when things don’t happen the way we thought they would. Subconsciously, we can believe that not fully trusting somehow protects us from the inevitability of disappointment. 

Disappointment is crushing. Scripture even talks about this. 

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, But when desire is fulfilled, it is a tree of life.

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭13:12‬ ‭

Maybe because we cling to the idea that we have some sort of control, that seeing an outcome we didn’t want and can’t change feels unfair. It shifts our vision, and often, our image of how things ‘should’ look. It changes our hopes and plans for the future, and frankly, it’s painful. 

Personally, I feel like the Lord showed me why disappointment is so painful. And why it’s one more area that I am not walking fully and wholly with God. Big oof. 

The reason disappointment is so potent is because I am still fighting for my will. 

The divide between praise and despair in every circumstance is made by my own resistance. 

Instead of surrender to ALL His ways, I want to cling to my outcome. I want to cling to what *I* think God should do. And when He doesn’t, it’s shattering. 

This is why praise in trial and pain isn’t the first reaction. 

So, the Lord told me, “You want to know the way through disappointment? 

Surrender.”

I feel like we have to pause to let that sink in for a moment. Read it again, real quick and let that sit in your heart. 

This is how we consider it joy to face trials of many kinds, as James says. 

This is how we remain content in every circumstance, as Paul says. 

The Lord is the portion of my inheritance, my cup [He is all I need]; You support my lot.

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭16:5‬ ‭

The Lord is my Shepherd [to feed, to guide and to shield me], I shall not want.

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭23:1‬ ‭AMP‬‬

When we surrender, when we fully give up control, disappointment no longer has a seat at the table. We don’t fear disappointment, because the outcome is not our peace; He is. 

The great paradox is giving up control and letting go of my will, and there we find freedom. I don’t mean some elusive idea of freedom that has no tangible meaning. I mean FREEDOM. No longer a slave to fear. No longer captive to my own thoughts or emotions. No longer held by my own outcomes or ideas. 

And I’ve experienced it. Instead of feeling a whole range of emotions in the aftermath of disappointment, there is peace. Joy. And yes, a heart that is ready to praise my Savior for His goodness. Thankfulness that He is faithful and present, my close companion no matter what I walk through. 

And to know fully that He is worthy of ALL my trust and praise. 

Trust in and rely confidently on the Lord with all your heart And do not rely on your own insight or understanding. In all your ways know and acknowledge and recognize Him, And He will make your paths straight and smooth [removing obstacles that block your way].

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3:5-6‬ ‭

Foundations

The earth is the LORD’S, and the fullness of it, 

The world, and those who dwell in it.

For He has founded it upon the seas 

And established it upon the streams and the rivers.

Psalm 24:1-2 

You, Lord, laid the foundation of the earth in the beginning, And the heavens are the works of Your hands;

‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭1:10‬ ‭

 

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about God establishing the earth. There are many scriptures that confirm this idea, it’s not profound to consider. Even Genesis 1:1 states this idea quite clearly; “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” 

 

But there is something even more that I have been considering.

 

I was reading about the Hebrew word for ‘womb’. The word ‘rechem’*, which is derived from the word ‘racham’. The word racham is defined as compassion and mercy. 

This honestly astonished me. The implications of this language are indeed profound. 

First, the womb is intended as a place of compassion and mercy toward mankind: as the Lord opens the womb to bear children. And this is confirmed in scripture when David says that children are a gift, a reward, from God.*** And confirmed again in scripture when it is to the womb of a woman that God sends His Son as a baby.**** THE act of compassion and mercy. 

 

And furthermore, I believe the womb is intended to BE (present and future tense implied)

 a place of compassion and mercy. 

 

You know I’m going to say it, because the implication is clear. The womb cannot be a place for murder (abortion), because God established clearly his intention for it. It is intended to be a place of compassion and MERCY. Not death. Not murder. This is so important for us to understand as believers because though we might be able to justify many reasons why abortion is acceptable and necessary, it is firmly established in God’s word that it is not. 

He has woven his design and intention into the very language we use so that even if in our lofty humanistic “wisdom” and argument, it cannot be denied. 

 

And honestly, I think this is a beautiful thing to consider. Even if you hate the idea of children, it is incredible that our Creator designed the ability and physiology of our bodies in compassion and mercy. His intention toward us in this matter is compassion and mercy. 

It is not burden. Children are not a burden; they are a gift. 

 

 

Of course, we can discuss nuance in situation and recognize that sometimes there are hardships involved in raising a child. Of course, there can be and are. However, the answer should not be killing a truly innocent human being. As Christians especially, we are unable to escape the reality of God’s word. There is no justification for abortion; for the killing of an innocent baby who cannot speak for themselves. Scripture actually addresses that too.*****

 

 

And no, we will not be countering this conversation with a discussion on gun rights, immigration, illegal immigration, homelessness or capital punishment. 

I have plenty of thoughts on these topics, but none of them are going to be addressed here. Just once, we are going to leave this topic as is. 

 

 

Now, please understand, I am mostly talking to believers, as I think our confusion about this is deeply concerning. And I do understand how it might be hard to reconcile what you have been convinced is truth with actual Truth. 

Even if you choose not to acknowledge God, His design is final. I know that can be hard to accept as well, but it is another inescapable reality. 

I am sure that there are many who will disagree, or tell me how incorrect I am. And that's fine. God bless you as you disagree. 

I could see how some could still choose to see this in a different light and interpretation, but I would suggest your ultimate issue might be with lordship and therefore you will never yield your position. That will be an issue only you and the Lord can work out. 

 

I hope that instead of being discouraged or frustrated, you find yourself hopeful. 

That even though a child may not fit into the plan or finances or vision you had for your future, it could turn into the biggest and most incredible gift that you cannot even imagine. 

A child is a gift, from a place of compassion and mercy. 

And as a woman, you are designed with compassion and mercy built into your body. 

What a gift!!

 

 

 

 

 

*https://biblehub.com/hebrew/7358.htm

 

 

** racham: compassion

https://biblehub.com/hebrew/7356.htm

 

 

 

***Psalm 127:3

Behold, children are a heritage and gift from the LORD, 

The fruit of the womb a reward.

 

****Isaiah 7:14 

Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, the virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call Him Immanuel. 

 

***** Proverbs 31:8-9

Open your mouth for the mute, 

For the rights of all who are unfortunate and defenseless;

Open your mouth, judge righteously, 

And administer justice for the afflicted and needy.

 

Psalm 82:3-4

Defend the weak and the fatherless;

uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed.

Rescue the weak and the needy;

deliver them from the hand of the wicked.

 

 

Let Go

I’ve been in this process over the last 5 years. And the last year I’ve taken time to listen and really hear what the Lord has been telling me. To be still, honestly. To wait. 

And truthfully, I’ve written and rewritten this blog. I’ve been struggling with it because I know there’s something to be said, but I hadn’t been able to ascertain the point. I don’t want to miscommunicate what I feel like the Lord is teaching me. I’ve been mulling this topic over for months, and trying to put together some thoughts on it. 

The other night on my run, the Lord showed me the real point. 

Do not be unequally bound together with unbelievers [do not make mismatched alliances with them, inconsistent with your faith]. For what partnership can righteousness have with lawlessness? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?”

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭6:14‬ ‭

This is the point. 

I have been struggling with so many different relationships over the last few years. Both in friends, and my own leaders in church. It seems to be the same pattern over and over again, which finally has led me to the conclusion that the Lord is showing me something that I need to deal with *in me.*

I think it’s important to note that most often, the Lord is going to address our own sin, not just come discipline people who have hurt us- and we should be so thankful that this is the case.*

We can waste time trying to hold other people accountable for being selfish and hurtful, OR we can trust the Lord will deal with them. 

But I digress. 

Back to 2 Corinthians. 

I truly believe this scripture is not just about marriage, but includes any relationship or partnership. The key phrasing for me is “mismatched alliances.” 

These can be people who love the Lord, but are not walking the way you walk. 

Transparently, I have had many of these such alliances in my life. I have made the mistake of being so naive to assume because people “love God” and are in church, that they must be a “matched alliance”, as it were. And they were not. 

The yoking is an important picture because these are people who are not interested in keeping pace with you, or carrying their share of the burden. So when the yoke breaks, they’ll be out of sight before they even notice you’re not with them anymore. And when they do, they won’t look back to see what happened, or if you were injured, because they simply don’t care. 

Even worse, in my experience, the story they’ll tell is that *you* were the problem and they’re glad to be rid of you. 

Ultimately, this is not a tale of how awful those other people are. We can recognize unhealthiness and move on. We aren’t going to give bitterness a foothold**. 

This is a tale of learning to choose equal yoking. Even just in friendship. If this is not a true course of walking together and equally carrying one another’s burden, it’s not a yoke we can take on. 

But make no mistake, we are responsible for the yokes we choose. So, let us mature. Let us choose wisely the partnerships we take on, the yokes we choose to share. 

Finding people who are walking the same direction, and are willing to carry the load is actually quite rare. 

In my experience, there will be more misses than marks. And that’s ok. 

It’s ok to “miss out” on opportunities. It’s ok to miss out on something other people are doing because a relationship or friendship is ok for them, but might not be ok for you. 

Don’t worry over missing out, you’re not really. All you’re risking is missing out on an unequal yoke. And that will be no loss. 

Don’t be afraid to let go of these unequal yokes. 

*”and you have forgotten the divine word of encouragement which is addressed to you as sons, “My son, do not make light of the discipline of the Lord, And do not lose heart and give up when you are corrected by Him; For the Lord disciplines and corrects those whom He loves, And He punishes every son whom He receives and welcomes [to His heart].””

‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭12:5-6‬ ‭

**Be angry [at sin—at immorality, at injustice, at ungodly behavior], yet do not sin; do not let your anger [cause you shame, nor allow it to] last until the sun goes down. And do not give the devil an opportunity [to lead you into sin by holding a grudge, or nurturing anger, or harboring resentment, or cultivating bitterness].”

‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭4:26-27‬ ‭

And a bonus reminder to choose wisely:

He who walks [as a companion] with wise men will be wise, But the companions of [conceited, dull-witted] fools [are fools themselves and] will experience harm.

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭13:20‬ ‭

Obedience

The last 3-4 years have been a pause on many things for us it seems like. A divine pause, even if at times it didn’t feel that way. 

A time for learning. A time for refocusing. A time for releasing many things, and taking hold of others. 

Through the course of rejection I’ve experienced over the last few years it’s become hard at times to share my thoughts. 

I’m not sure why. Maybe fear that sharing my thoughts will give people reason to reject me, or maybe protecting myself from allowing people to know me. I don’t know.

But it’s not a place I want to live. 

I’ve observed that “hurt” can easily become an address at which you find your residence if you’re not diligent. Somehow, hurt can become comfortable. 

Well, I don’t want comfortable. As much as I like comfortable, I don’t want it. 

I want to live in the place where I die to myself. 

I was remembering growing up how I would hear messages on that topic frequently. I can’t remember the last time I heard a message on the convicting and life altering truth of dying to self. Picking up my cross. Crucifying myself. 

This is not a one-time salvation prayer. This is a daily work. Hour-by-hour, down to minute-by-minute if necessary. 

Sometimes it makes me want to mentally stamp my feet because it seems unfair. 

But I’m not looking to live a life of self-determined fairness, but one of obedience. 

I guess the point in all of this, is the remembrance of dying to self. The way of the world is increasingly self-obsessed. “Do whatever you want!” “Whatever makes you happy!” “No one can tell you what’s right or wrong, just do what makes you feel good.” 

While these ideas might seem harmless enough, they’re not. If we profess Jesus, we don’t get to be self-obsessed. If we profess Jesus, we don’t get to do whatever we want. 

If we profess Jesus…there is no claim to our life anymore- it’s HIS. If we profess Jesus, it is no longer us who live.* 

Lord, help me live this way. 

* For to me, to live is Christ [He is my source of joy, my reason to live] and to die is gain [for I will be with Him in eternity]. If, however, it is to be life here and I am to go on living, this will mean useful and productive service for me; so I do not know which to choose [if I am given that choice].

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭1:21-22‬ ‭

I have been crucified with Christ [that is, in Him I have shared His crucifixion]; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body I live by faith [by adhering to, relying on, and completely trusting] in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. I do not ignore or nullify the [gracious gift of the] grace of God [His amazing, unmerited favor], for if righteousness comes through [observing] the Law, then Christ died needlessly. [His suffering and death would have had no purpose whatsoever.]

‭‭Galatians‬ ‭2:20-21‬ 

Live as free people, but do not use your freedom as a cover or pretext for evil, but [use it and live] as bond-servants of God.

‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭2:16‬ ‭

Number of Days

Today I was reminded that God is not shocked.

By anything. He’s not surprised at what’s happening in the world. He’s not surprised by a disease. 

He’s not surprised by politics or politicians. 

He’s not surprised by wars or rumors of wars.

He’s not distracted, derailed, or dethroned. 

He’s not surprised by death. 

In my own life, as I take time to process the unexpected loss of a good friend, I trust fully that God was not taken aback. 

In fact, I find it significant and comforting to know that my friend completed the days that were assigned to him. I wish they were longer, but that’s just the unique position of heaven and earth. We’re here, and he is there. I wish that we could still be together. But I believe we’re both exactly where we are supposed to be. 

It’s hard to accept fully. And of course, there are questions. I love questions. And sometimes I hate questions. Because sometimes there are no answers. 

I understand wanting to ask why. 

Why did this happen? 

Why couldn’t he have been healed? 

Why couldn’t there be a miracle? 

I don’t have the answer to any of them. And frankly, I find little comfort in the asking. Because the asking somehow seems out of place. 

Personally, I feel overwhelmed with peace. Peace that God knew the exact number of days. Peace that he knew the exact moment that earthly days would end, and heavenly ones would begin. Peace that while we feel loss, Phil does not. Phil is fully whole, in ways that, for now, we can only long for. 

I feel peace that heaven is far, but heaven is close. 

So I’m not asking questions. Not now at least. Not yet. Maybe not at all. 

I’m thankful that while the sting of death is present now, it is not forever. I’m thankful for the deep comfort of knowing we will see Phil again. 

I had somewhere in my head imagined that Phil would still be our buddy when we were all old and gray, and the reality of that loss is hurtful and maddening. 

Heaven is far, but heaven is close. 

So we’ll carry on, in our earthen vessels, 

until we can all stand together again. 

And what a day that will be.

Peace I leave with you; My [perfect] peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be afraid. [Let My perfect peace calm you in every circumstance and give you courage and strength for every challenge.]

‭‭John‬ ‭14:27‬ ‭AMP

I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have [perfect] peace. In the world you have tribulation and distress and suffering, but be courageous [be confident, be undaunted, be filled with joy]; I have overcome the world.” [My conquest is accomplished, My victory abiding.]

‭‭John‬ ‭16:33‬ ‭AMP‬‬

Kayo Revere

Time to share the birth story of our littlest, Kayo Revere Madrid. 

It’s always so interesting to see how each pregnancy is so different. Of course there are similarities, but even so, each time around it’s completely individual and unique. 

I had started having contractions the last two weeks of pregnancy or so. It started with just a couple afternoons with Braxton Hicks, and then increased to every single day, contractions from the afternoon until I went to bed. With the other kids, I think I experienced a total of 4 Braxton Hicks contractions between the two, so this was totally new. 

Even though they were surprisingly strong (not painful, but strong), I eventually stopped paying any attention to them because they were so consistent. 

So finally we arrive at Wednesday, June 16. Officially 39 weeks (which is the most pregnant I have ever been, and I was not stoked about it) and I had a midwife appointment. She reassured me she highly doubted I would be pregnant for much longer, to which I HEARTILY agreed.

Secretly to myself, I really thought it was going to happen that day, but I didn’t say anything because I truly thought it might just be desperate, wishful thinking. 

A quick side note, this was by far my least favorite experience with pregnancy, not to complain, but just to give some insight on why I so desperately wanted to be done with it. 

Anyway. 

The day went on as normal, by mid afternoon the contractions were back and doing their usual thing, and I paid no attention to them whatsoever. We continued on our normal routine of dinner, spending time with the kids and their normal bedtime at 8pm. I showered after the kids went to bed, and still wasn’t thinking much about contractions. I was hoping they’d magically intensify, or my water would break, after the kids went to bed, but they seemed to just steady on.

I had been keeping Sam aware of the contractions every day, just in case something happened, but since it wasn't real labor there hadn’t been much to fuss over. As we were getting ready for bed, I commented that these contractions seemed to be pretty consistently strong, probably the strongest they’d been, but I still couldn’t tell if it was labor. He’s a smart guy and listened to his instincts and decided to not go into work the next morning, just to be safe. We went to bed like usual, so we could hopefully get some sleep if things did progress, although I had very little hope it would. 

As I laid in bed, the contractions were uncomfortable, so around 11pm I got up and just decided to do some small chores and watch a movie until I could fall asleep, or things progressed enough that I could tell it was real labor. So I folded the mountain of laundry that had been sitting around and cleaned up the kitchen. 

Around 1:30am, Sam got up and came out to the living room after realizing I wasn’t in bed. I’m sure it looked like I was obviously in labor as when he came out I was kneeling on the floor with my head resting on my hands on the couch, but it didn’t feel super intense to me, just uncomfortable. He asked if I had called the midwife (I had not), and asked what I thought. I still couldn’t really tell, but suggested we get things ready just to be safe. 

Sam kicked into high gear getting everything set up. He got out the birth box with all the supplies, set up the birth tub, washed our sheets, made the bed and handled everything while I just walked around the living room and kitchen trying to figure out if it was really labor. 

I realize it seems like it should be obvious, being as this is my third baby, but hold on, ok. First of all, it was confusing because the contractions were strong, and uncomfortable, but not so intense that I was positive it was labor. Secondly, their timing was also confusing. They would go from 3 minutes apart, to 10 minutes apart. Then drop down to 1-2 minutes apart, then jump back up to 8 minutes apart. It was really confusing, and I think I was nervous to hope it was really labor, only to find out it was just wishful thinking. Again, I realize this might sound dumb, but I was in the throes of desperate pregnancy brain, so cut me some slack. 

At 3am, I figured I should call my midwife, and just update her, and then we could figure out what to do. So I called her and told her how things were going and that I wasn’t really sure it was labor, but she was great and said she would come check immediately. That gave me some peace of mind, and even though I was still concerned that she would show up only to tell me it was not labor at all, or that it was but I was only a tiny bit dilated and it was going to be a long haul. 

Around 3:45am, everything intensified, and I was finally positive it was for sure labor. It takes my midwife about 40 minutes to an hour to get from her house to mine, and she had told me they would probably be there around 3:55am. It took them a little longer, so 3:55am came and went and I was getting a little nervous she wasn’t going to make it. The next 20 minutes kind of blur together for me, because the contractions were really intense (intense is just a nice word for painful, FYI), and it was impossible to think about anything else. 

For some reason, in my head I had thought I would wait for Karen (midwife) to get there to assess everything before filling up the tub and getting in. This was a rookie mistake. 

By 4:05am I knew things were going to happen quick. Poor Sam was rushing around trying to make sure everything was ready, and probably secretly willing Karen to get there so he wouldn’t have to deliver Kayo. Just kidding, he was solid as a rock, and would’ve handled it like a pro if he had to. 

I was starting to get that feeling like I wasn’t going to be able to do it, that slight panicky feeling, which I realized looking back was for sure transition, although I didn’t realize it at the moment. A really intense (read: painful) contraction hit as I was leaning on the island bar top counter, and I felt a crazy amount of pressure and then a pop and water gushed down my leg. Internally I was like, uh oh, cause I knew it was gonna happen fast and Karen wasn’t there. Literally at that moment, she knocked on the door. Sam let them in and she came in and set her stuff down. She asked me how I was doing and I managed to squeak out that my water had just broken. She said “great! Let’s check you” and turned to get some things out of her bag when I said “I think I need to push.” She said ok, and then things started to fly. She simultaneously called her assistant in from the car, washed her hands and put on gloves, while telling Sam to get my pants off because I hadn’t been able to do that yet. Contractions were hitting super fast, and Karen asked if I knew where I wanted to be. I couldn’t think of anything so I just squatted down right there on the kitchen floor. She went to check me and said “oh ok, well, we’re gonna have a baby. His head is right there. On the next contraction you can push.” 

At some point they put a birth stool under me, and I remember commenting how badly it hurt, which I realize sounds dumb, but in the moment what I really meant was maybe the position wasn’t right. Thankfully, Karen knew what I meant and asked if I wanted to move, but I just figured there was no point. 

For the record, and those who aren’t afraid of TMI, this was the only time I ever experienced the “ring of fire.” So...that’s unpleasant. 

I felt like I was pushing forever, only for Sam to inform me later it was 3 minutes. Let me just say, it felt a lot longer.  

But anyway, 3 minutes and 3 pushes later, Kayo came right out and he was literally perfect. 8lbs, 8oz and 21 inches (my biggest baby) of absolute perfection. 

Our midwife walked in the door at 4:10am and at 4:17am our sweet boy was born. Cutting it a little close, but she made it, and that’s really all I cared about. 

I will say, the home birth experience was amazing and if we have any more babies, I would totally do it again. 

It was awesome to be at home and do things the way we wanted. Thank you Lord for protecting us and for a completely smooth and simple delivery. 

It was so fun to be able to get the bigger kids up like normal in the morning and have them come meet their little brother. It was a totally family-centered experience, and exactly what I wanted, minus not making it into the birth tub. But like I said, that was my own rookie mistake. 

If you’re a mom feel free to reach out if you have any questions about home birth, I’m an open book and love birth. Let me know if I can help ease your mind!