Having a baby in the middle of a pandemic in a city under protests & curfews (during a hot Alabama summer) wasn’t exactly part of my birth plan. But then again, nothing about having kids has gone according to my plan. A fierce battle with infertility. Finding out the gender by accident (another story for another day). A canceled baby shower. Going to appointments alone. Carrying past the due date. My water breaking in the middle of the night.

But God did not waste any of it, because every moment of bringing our girl into the world has been a wild & beautiful miracle.

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“How are you feeling about giving birth in all of this craziness?” I was asked this question a lot during the weeks leading up to delivery. I would joke that “the baby’s coming, pandemic or not!” But I don’t think I really realized how I felt until a well-meaning Wal-Mart employee looked at me from behind her plexi-glass partition and said, “Oh, I know you must be scared during all of this.” But the thing was: I wasn’t scared and I told her that with a smile (which she couldn’t see…because, ya know about that face mask life).

In the midst of so much chaos and uncertainty, I had this crazy, passes-all-understanding peace that could only come from the Lord. I think He had prepared me for this season (whether I liked it or not) and I had learned to loosen the grip of things I had never meant to carry (I’m still learning this, of course). And while worries and fears would occasionally creep in (my biggest fear being that they would separate our new little family if I ended up getting COVID), God would gently reassure me that He was and is in control. In all of His kindness and power and love, He knew the perfect timing of our girl’s birth. And as frustrated as I was at moments, I could hold fast to that truth.

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Throughout the pregnancy, I suspected I would go into labor early, so our bags were packed and I finished up all of my work deadlines around 37 weeks. And then the waiting game really began. There is nothing quite like waiting on your baby to come, especially when we were mostly quarantined to the house already (insert thumb twiddling here). However, from my 37 week appointment to my 39 week appointment, there was little to no labor progress. So we scheduled an induction date for the Friday after my due date (my due date was on Tuesday, June 2nd) while still praying for our girl to come on her own.

At 39 weeks, I was increasingly uncomfortable and had pretty much given up hope of going into labor naturally. But I was trying to remain positive and still trying all of the old wives’ tales to induce labor without meds. I started having contractions on and off, but then they would go away fairly quickly. My due date came and went. Still no baby.

On Wednesday, I prepped the last few things we would be needing since I had come to terms with the fact that we would likely be heading to the hospital Thursday afternoon to start the prep for my Friday induction appointment. We ate dinner and went on a walk, went to bed and prayed for a smooth delivery despite the unexpected circumstances.

I wasn’t sleeping well per usual, and I got up for (yet another) bathroom trip around 2 A.M. I couldn’t stop peeing (mamas, ya feel me). But then I reallyyy couldn’t stop and realized that my water might have broken (!!) I came out of the bathroom a little in shock and woke up Kevin by saying, “So. I think my water just broke.” Kevin and I both quickly came out of our middle-of-the-night delirium while I called the doctor. She asked me some questions to confirm what I had thought happened and then told us to head to the hospital. We hurriedly changed clothes, grabbed bags, and jumped in the car. As we drove down the empty roads, it all felt very weird and exciting that we were finally going to meet our baby girl.

While we were checking into the hospital and getting our temperatures checked, I was having some contractions that were pretty close together, but they still weren’t very painful. They took some samples from me to confirm my water had broken (it had) and check for dilation. I was only 1 cm dilated, but because I was clearly in labor they took us to a room and set up for the day.

At around 3:30 A.M., the doctor on call came in and told me they would be putting me on pitocin to speed things along, but that he wouldn’t be giving me an epidural until I was at least 3 cm. Since I heard pitocin makes contractions more painful and closer together, I was not thrilled… but was determined to get our baby out safely and efficiently.

Kevin set up our portable speaker with worship music while we chatted with our sweet nurse about Jesus and weddings and the best restaurants in Birmingham (I am convinced she was sent straight from heaven and could not have gotten through labor & delivery without her). Once they hooked me up to the meds and IV, the contractions grew steadily more painful and I quickly told everyone in the room that they better stop talking about food or I will banish them (I was very hungry and shooting daggers at Kevin as he ate his chicken biscuit). It wasn’t long before the amount of pain distracted me from my hunger and I was asking for pain meds. They gave me something which helped knock the edge off, but the medicine only lasted an hour and then it was back to what I like to call “the pit(ocin) of despair.”

Kevin talked a lot (to no one’s surprise) while I attempted to squeeze his hand off and breathe through the worst of the pain. I really don’t remember a lot of that time; I’ve possibly wiped those hours from my memory as some sort of coping mechanism (shoutout to all those who opt for a natural labor—y’all are superheroes!) They checked dilation again around 12:30 P.M. and I was 5 cm dilated- praises!! I could finally get an epidural. The anesthesiologist arrived and prepped/administered the epidural (which wasn’t painful at all—although it’s possible my pain levels were a bit thrown off at this point). It took a bit to kick in but when it did, I was a brand new person. I felt like I could actually take in and enjoy the next moments leading up to birth.

An hour later, our nurse was shocked to find that I was 9 cm dilated and it was about time to start pushing. I think I replied with, “Wait. What?” The nurses gave a quick lesson on how to push while setting up the scale/bassinet where they would put her after she got there. The gravity of L’s quickly-approaching arrival was hitting us both, and I was trying not to cry as Kevin and I thought about the journey leading to this moment.

I pushed for about 7 minutes and then we were told it was time to get the doctor. Again, I’m pretty sure I asked, “Huh?" Are you sure?” She dismissed my doubts and called for assistance, but the kicker was that the doctor was next door in the middle of a delivery. So I sat back up while they told me to stop pushing until he could finish up in the other room (it was a full moon the previous night and apparently the L&D floor was filled with double the patients). It was very weird to just be chatting & chilling when we could be meeting our baby any moment. When the doctor arrived, I pushed for a few more rounds and before I knew it, I was looking down at our precious, wiggly baby. It was beautiful and surreal and we were all crying while welcoming our girl into the world. We had a sweet moment where the doctor prayed over us, and we thanked the Lord for her little life.

After soaking in cuddles, feeding her, and listening to Kevin brag about guessing the right birth weight (6 lbs. & 10 oz.), we confirmed her name. We had decided on her first name back in December after we found out we were having a girl. It means “bringer of light” and man, she has lived up to that name so far. The brightest little light in the midst of so much darkness. We chose her middle name after my grandmother— one of the strongest and most faithful women we know. It means “confidence, belief” which fits Mimi so well, and we pray that our girl will have that same bold faith!

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The past month has been such a whirlwind full of diaper changes, middle of the night feedings, staring at our girl, and alternating asking each other, “Can you believe she’s really here?” We are full of forgetfulness and the new-parent brain fog. We are growing in patience and grace as we imperfectly attempt to embrace this wild & wonderful season. We are so in love with our baby girl already and trying to take in all of the moments while also taking way too many pictures.

Overall, we are incredibly grateful for all of it— the good, the hard, and the holy.

“Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.”

— Ephesians 3:20-21

Birth Story

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