Baby Girl {A Birth Story}

I'd always heard that the second baby comes early, so when my belly dropped and I began having other signs of impending labor several weeks before my due date I just assumed Baby Girl was coming early.  I was truly excited and hopeful that she would come earlier than her September 9th due date because deep down I was hoping for an August baby.

But, the weeks began to pass one by one and August was quickly coming to a close. I tried EVERY trick in the book to get her out of me pronto.  I went to my local whole foods store and bought Raspberry Leaf Tea.  I tried the famous eggplant parmigiana at Scalini's here in Atlanta and when that didn't work I tried the eggplant parmigiana at a couple other local Italian restaurants just to be sure that some other restaurant didn't have just the right recipe to get the job done.  I tried walking and walking and more walking; and when I was exhausted, I set out walking yet again.  In a moment of utter frustration I even went to a local gym {that I was not a member of} and asked if I could just use their treadmill for awhile.  They agreed and I jumped on their treadmill, in a dress {I hadn't planned on a visit to the gym}, and I bumped up the incline as much as I could handle.  Then I walked and prayed for the contractions to begin.  The contractions started, just like they did after eating the eggplant parmigiana every time, but they didn't last.  I even tried a few more creative methods that I will never share with all of you. ;)  Like I said, I tried EVERYTHING...well, everything except castor oil.

Castor oil was where I drew the line. I read too many horror stories to subject myself to the potential misery.  It wasn't worth it to me to even think about giving that a try.  Well, that is, until the due date was upon me. I was emotionally exhausted from all of my efforts to persuade Baby Girl out of the comfy place she called home. It seemed as if she would stay there until Christmas, maybe even New Years! So, on September 9th, I broke down and bought some castor oil at the store...still not convinced that I would actually use it but wanted it in my cabinet just in case I got desperate...okay, true, I was obviously already desperate...but just in case the temptation got the best of me.  And though I played around with the idea in my head many times that night, I never gave in. I resisted the castor oil!

And I am SO GLAD that I NEVER took a drop of the castor oil! Because if I had taken it that night I would have thought that it was the oil that got my labor going.

As I was relaxing on the couch with my hubby and my mom {who had already been there for a couple of weeks}, I began to feel some contractions. I didn't get too excited though because I had felt contractions many nights prior to that night. Jonathan and I had already been fooled twice with false labor and kicked ourselves later for missing out on valuable sleep.

So, we headed upstairs around midnight. We showered just in case it was the real deal but never let ourselves get too excited.  We solemnly climbed into bed as we each tried to keep the other from thinking we were too hopeful or excited.  We were trying our best at the small talk when all of a sudden I felt my water was just a little leakage, but I remembered that "popped water balloon" feeling from when I was in labor with Brody and I was sure that was it.

We began packing our things as I informed my mom that it was finally time for us to head to the hospital.  While we gathered our last minute items from the list, the contractions quickly grew stronger and I began to wonder if we were going to make it down to Atlanta in time.  My mom snapped a picture as we headed out the door; and we drove off, hand-in-hand, dreaming of the days to come.

By the time we reached the hospital, the contractions were so strong that I cried as Jonathan drove us over a speed bump.  I was yelling about how dumb it was to have speed bumps in front of the labor and delivery building and how it was obviously a man who had designed it.  After white knuckling it through the first two speed bumps I cried for Jonathan to stop the car right in front of the next speed bump and informed him to not move another inch until the contraction was over.  That sweet, sweet man.  He promptly stopped the car and waited patiently as I squirmed in the passenger seat, breathing deeply, and gritting my teeth in pain.

We finally arrived at the registration desk around 2:30 am. There was a father-to-be filling out paper work and asking every dumb question he could come up with.  We politely waited for him to finish while I mentally screamed at him to hurry up.  The receptionist finally noticed my wincing face and slid me a clipboard with the paperwork to fill out.  I think I might have written my name before throwing in the towel and passing it to Jonathan to complete. I quickly rushed to the bathroom, praying I wouldn't have the baby in the most undignified spot of the hospital.  Thankfully, I made it out of the bathroom still pregnant and waddled my way over to the chairs.  When I arrived at the chairs I couldn't decide what to do since I was in pain when I stood and in pain when I sat down.  So, I opted for a sit-stand limbo dance that I'm sure attracted a lot of late night attention.

By that time, an Asian couple had arrived.  The mother-to-be seemed to understand exactly why I was dancing as she did a similar dance with another chair just across the way from me.  Moments later, I pulled myself together enough to sit down because I felt as if I was going to pass out from the pain {and probably the cardiovascular workout from dancing}.  I heard the other mother yell something to her husband in her native language. The father-to-be looked alarmed by what she told him and he yelled for the receptionist in broken English.

"My wife say the baby coming now!"

The receptionist politely dismissed his warnings.  She must have heard similar cries of panic every day from worried fathers.

The mother-to-be yelled at him again in her language and the father-to-be once again yelled out for the receptionist.

"My wife say the baby come now! She feel it! The baby come now!"

By this point I was furious and yelling some pretty nasty things to her in my head.  I just knew she was overreacting and it was all some ploy to get back to a bed sooner.  The nerve!

The couple succeeded in drawing the attention of the staff and before I knew it there was nurse there to help.  As I sat there watching her slowly ease her way into the wheelchair, I felt the chair underneath me become sopping wet.  My water had broken...again!  The "water" began dripping off the chair and down my legs as any dignity I had left washed away. I could feel my bag of waters breaking over and over with each new contraction.  I tried to yell for Jonathan's help but I was in so much pain that all I could muster was a whisper. When he finally heard me, I pointed down as I mouthed the words, "My water broke! Help!"  He asked for help from the staff and one of the nurses came to my aid with a towel.  I apologized over and over but I'm not sure she heard me as I just couldn't quite get the words out.  It was one of the most humiliating experiences I have ever had and I all I could think was, Please, Lord, make it stop!

A few minutes later the nurse came to get me with a wheelchair, and I continued to leak with each contraction as she wheeled me through the halls to my birthing room.  It seemed like hours before the admitting nurse was finished asking me questions.  I was in excruciating pain and unable to answer the questions so I asked Jonathan to take over for me.  The nurse was from Jamaica and had an accent that was difficult for both Jonathan and I to understand.  I grew angrier with each question that Jonathan had to have her repeat.  I was ready to push and she was asking questions that I had already answered on the pre-admission form months prior.

Finally, the midwife came to my rescue and told her to finish asking the questions to Jonathan while she went ahead and did her thing.  I was so thankful to finally have the go ahead.  I tried a few different positions before finding one that seemed to ease the pain somewhat.  The room was silent except for my cries of pain with each push and an occasional "You're doing great, babe!" from my hubby. This time, he knew I preferred less talk and more just being there to relay information to the midwife.  I can remember the midwife just sitting back with a very hands-off approach unless necessary.  She knew I wanted a natural birth, and she assured me that if she stayed out of the way things would go exactly as they should.

And they did.

At 5:35am, three hours after arriving at the hospital, Baby Girl promptly made her appearance on her due date.  Not a moment too soon, and not a minute late. She was right on time. She was perfect in every way. She was ours.

After they cleaned her up and took her measurements, we had a little bit of time before visiting hours began. The three of us napped together in our new hospital room and I jumped in the shower as soon as I had the "OK." {This was my favorite part of a natural birth...the ability to get out of bed and shower as soon as you feel ready to.}

By lunch time, our first visitors had arrived.  Big Bro was so excited to meet his new little sister.  Well, excited for a few minutes at least...until he remembered the sack lunch his Wynni {my mom} had packed him. Then he excused himself to the corner of the room where he ate his lunch as if it were any other day. :)

Signing "I love you" to his baby sister.

Baby Girl got her big brother a present...a camera to snap pictures of her :)

We were blessed with so many sweet visitors that came  to hold and love on our precious little lady.

Wynni and her new obsession.

"Aunt" Sessa and "Uncle" Phil were sweet enough to bring a cupcake
and other goodies for her birthday party. :)

JimPop and Uncle Ricky {who drove in from Tifton, GA just to visit for a couple of hours}

"Aunt" Samantha


Mary, Beth, Tara, and Samantha

We enjoyed the hospital stay this time...much more so than three years ago when I delivered Brody.  This time we were wiser. This time we sent the baby to the nursery at night to sleep, only to be brought back for her feedings every couple of hours. Yes, this time we knew to get as much rest as possible because once we went home it was game time!

We spent those next couple of days trying to decide on what to name our little "Baby Girl."  Every time a nurse or doctor came in to check on us, they would ask us if we had decided on a name. "Not yet," we would say.  They laughed.  We panicked.  We just couldn't figure out her name and we knew we had to decide before they would let us leave...

{To be continued}


  1. Congratulations! She is beautiful :)

  2. I loved it, Pum'kin......but I have to say (well, maybe not have to say, but want to say) ... it took you as long to birth this story as it did to birth Baby Girl Johnson. Is it possible that it took you as long to name her? :)

    1. Haha! I see that you missed the previous post! ;)

  3. Oh my word! I'm such a cry baby with stuff like this! I was already teary just reading your story, then the pictures with Brody just put me over the edge! So so SWEET!!!! Thanks for sharing your story Lauren! :)

  4. Lauren I loved reading this about the arrival of my niece! Love you sis and mini Lauren!

  5. Can't wait to read about how you picked her name! Sounds like she came pretty fast. I can't believe how put together you look in that picture before you headed to the hospital! And I love all the pictures at the hospital, she is gorgeous!


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