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My sweet, not-so-little-anymore baby sister is graduating from highschool this year! I can’t believe it. She is an accomplished pianist and musician who will be pursuing a possible double major in music for college, so her session was ALL about music! If I were to pick just one of these photos to sum her up perfectly, it would have to be the one in the panda jacket, which she nearly always puts on to unwind after a performance or competition! xoxo


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Written when Cedric was 8 weeks old.

It was one of those days. The toddler and I had been battling over what quiet time meant for an hour. I bounced between him and the baby who was crying and couldn’t sleep. Lots of crying. Lots of chaos.

I was supposed to be packing to leave town in a couple of hours. No way that was going to happen. I was stressed. Not enough time.

Each time I returned to the toddler’s room to deal with him, I could feel my anger welling up. Finally, the baby was asleep again after all the noise. Completely exhausted I returned to my oldest son’s room and told him (yet again) that he had to be quiet. His sobbing intensified. Then he said through his tears, “Mommy, it is SO hard to obey.”

In that moment I softened and remembered: we’re no different, he and I. I understand the pain he is feeling–the struggle of the Fall–because I feel it too. Every day. In moments like this.

So I took him in my arms and said, “I know baby, it is hard for mommy too.” Then he fell asleep in my arms for the first time in over a year. I looked down at his closed eyelashes and chubby fingers and cried a little bit too.


  • Rachel Dawn - January 19, 2015 - 3:16 pm

    Thank you…such a sweet reminder, and so so true…ReplyCancel

  • Lennie B Knight - January 20, 2015 - 4:47 am

    Yes, dear one.
    We’re no different, no matter what the age.
    And tears still fall, but with even more gratitude:
    The lord hath laid on HIM the iniquity of us ALLReplyCancel

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Birth photography by Sarah Delanie Photography.

Continued from Part One. . .

It was around midnight. I got a dress on, and then things got chaotic.

The strong back to back contractions turned into the long, clustered contractions that happened during Winston’s birth. The clusters weren’t too long at that point, but very hard to work through. I was doing decent emotionally, but started to feel pretty discouraged because I had no bloody show and had been in active labor for several hours.

I wanted to labor away from the hospital as long as I could stand, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay home much longer. I told Caleb he had to call my sister Melody to come care for Winston so we could leave whenever we wanted. He also called the doulas to say we needed them. We probably should have called them sooner but things progressed too fast in relation to our decision making speed since I couldn’t make up my mind.

I could hardly think now, because all that was running through my mind was chaos as I tried to relax through the clusters of contractions. I was barely okay emotionally. Caleb was trying to do everything he could to help and get ready for the hospital at the same time. I also noticed that every time I touched or moved the right side of my body, I had super strong contractions and so was contracting unevenly. At that point I labored some on the toilet and remember praying for a sign that I was progressing and after another contraction my water broke and I had a very small amount of bloody show. I knew then that I had not progressed very far because when my water broke it was a very small pop.

Christy and Jamie (my doulas) arrived shortly thereafter, somewhere around 3 a.m. By now, I had already been laboring with the clustered contractions for several hours and things were reaching crisis level physically and emotionally. Caleb asked Christy to check and see how far dilated I was (she was my primary midwife for Winston’s birth). I’ll be honest, I didn’t really expect that and didn’t want to relive the feeling of having Christy check me exactly like how I was checked in labor with Winston, but I couldn’t really talk enough to argue at that point either. I knew they were trying to gauge how my labor was going compared to last time. She checked, and I was dilated to a three. Everything, even the position of Cedric to some extent, was feeling just like Winston’s labor.

Labor continued to get harder and faster–more contractions in the clusters before a 30 sec or so break. Christy and Jamie tried several things to help me relax and get them to space out. We also called Dr. Kristin to come adjust me. After Christy had checked me I had a hard time getting off the bed because I had tipped past the crisis point. I think there were about 4-5 hard contractions in a cluster at that point. The first contraction in the cluster was always the worst and with no time to calm down and relax through the pain before the next one would hit, I was starting to panic big time. Not only was the pain hard to deal with, but emotionally I felt like I was going to be lost to the darkness again.

Jamie was on the floor in front of me supporting my feet while I sat and leaned back on the bed. I remember her telling me very firmly that I had to look her in the eyes through the next contractions. She wouldn’t take my “no” for an answer even though I felt like it would be impossible. I really think Jamie saved me from more emotional trauma at this point because she didn’t let me close my eyes. She held my gaze with a steeled focus that in the end helped pull me out of myself emotionally and kept me grounded through the intense pain and desperate emotions. During Winston’s labor there were hours where I felt like my head was going to split open because darkness in my head was so intense. So it was pretty significant to not experience that as much this time since I worked so hard to focus on Jamie.

Caleb and Christy went to talk for a minute and Jamie and I went back to the toilet. I started saying “I have to leave, I have to leave! I can’t be here anymore.” Everyone asked me to wait for the chiropractor since it was something I had wanted and might help, but I wasn’t sure I could wait anymore. They were trying to help me wait as long as I could possibly stand to go to the hospital since I wasn’t dilated very far. We made sure everything was packed up and waited until Dr. Kristin arrived. When she got there I was in so much pain I didn’t want her to touch me, all I could think was “I have to leave. Why can’t we leave.” I think at that point everyone fully realized I had passed the crisis point and was not doing well at all. I was using all three people (Caleb and the doulas) to hold me up through contractions. I don’t even think Dr. Kristin touched me much at all, and we left. I climbed in the back of the car with no shoes and leaned over the back seat on all fours. Caleb called the birth photographer to meet us at the hospital.

The car ride was awful, but I actually got two decent breaks from contracting–enough for me to have a couple of thoughts! Not much had run through my mind for several hours–I think I even forgot I was having a baby–but I said, “Babe, I need the epidural.” and Caleb replied, “I know babe.” I was so relieved we could be on the same page when the birth plan needed to change. When we arrived at the hospital Jamie pulled up a wheel chair, which I kneeled in awkwardly so I could stay bent over all the way to the fourth floor. She told them I needed an epidural stat and they got started settling me in. When the midwife on call checked me, I was dilated to a four. It was around 6:00-6:30 a.m. now, a little over 14 hours into the labor.


Then came probably the hardest part of the labor. They originally told me it would be 10-15 minutes until I could get the epidural because they had to run lab work, which is normal. To me, that felt like an eternity of contractions because I would have at least 12 contractions in that time. So I tried to psych myself up for a couple more clusters telling myself hope was coming. But when more than 15 minutes passed, I was really starting to lose it and get more traumatized with each set of contractions because I was having a hard time hanging on emotionally. I couldn’t understand why they weren’t bringing the epidural in! I was yelling, “Help me!” After an hour, they finally came in and started prepping me for an epidural.

I found out later, the delay happened because it was shift change, and also possibly because the midwife on call wasn’t sure if I should get the epidural while only being dilated to a four. My birth plan said I wanted to VBAC, and usually it is recommended to wait until you are dilated to a six to reduce the risk of repeat c-section. With Winston’s birth I never made it past a five contracting like this for 24 hours without an epidural. Anyways, Christy was texting the midwife and said something to the effect of, “I don’t know if you’re stalling right now, but we needed the epidural yesterday.” The midwife on call called my primary care midwife, Carla, to see what to do since I wanted to VBAC. Carla asked what Christy thought, and when she heard Christy had said to give me the epidural she said, “Give her the epidural!” I’m so glad they are friends and trust each other!


The epidural seriously took forever to put in place compared to the one I had with Winston, but one surprise was that they didn’t kick anyone out of the room. Caleb got to hold me in the awkward position the whole time and I even have pictures of it. As is usually the case with the epidural, I felt like there was no way I could hold the position they needed me to be in through my clustered contractions. Fortunately there was a nurse who was encouraging and firm as she coached me, and her Australian accent was so distracting and unexpected it really helped me focus! I was disappointed not to get to have a water birth like I wanted and had “planned” both times. I was also nervous about the epidural increasing my risk of c-section as a vbac mom. But at the same time Caleb and I were at total peace that getting the epidural was the only way forward.


The epidural started to kick in, and then my blood pressure dipped along with Cedric’s heart rate. Everyone rushed in and they called the OB to request he be at the desk just in case I needed surgery. This exact thing happened during Winston’s birth except they lost his heart rate and I was rushed to surgery. I looked at Caleb (who had to stand back due to all of the people helping me), we both had tears in our eyes, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. A quiet grief that we may be headed to another c-section, and that this all felt so familiar. Another chaotic, difficult birth.

They gave me something for my blood pressure, and Cedric rebounded enough that they felt ok letting me continue with labor as long as they could put the fetal monitor in his skull for a more accurate reading. When they put it in, I was already dilating more and I found that encouraging!

The epidural had taken full effect now and the room finally settled down enough that I was able to process and take in all that had just happened and the fact that my labor had been an even faster repeat of Winston’s. I lost it. There were mixtures of grief that my labor progressed that way again, intense relief of feeling “rescued” this time before I had endured hours of emotional trauma, letting the fear out that I couldn’t process when I was in pain, and uncertainty of how it would all end. I was also readjusting my mental “birth plan” from having a natural water birth to the new scenario. It was now 8 a.m., and I was so incredibly grateful for pain relief.


Things were calm now, and I spent time trying to process and calm down. I prayed, and cried some more. I told Caleb we barely got the epidural in time, and he agreed. Later, the doulas agreed with us that I probably needed to have gotten the epidural sooner than we did because the last four hours before the epidural were way past the crisis point.

The rest of my labor was happily, mostly boring. I listened to music, and the nurses came in every so often to help me switch sides and Caleb and my doulas ate and rested. Dr. Kristin also came and adjusted me. I had time to calm down but also start remembering and thinking about the fact that it was my baby’s birth day! This was exciting! I even snuck a little trail mix because I was starving.

I was still contracting just as hard as ever, just with the epidural now. The OB, Dr. Farzam came in around noon and I was dilated to a 7.5. Further than I ever made it with Winston! Everyone was excited, but I wasn’t ready to celebrate just yet. Around 2 p.m. Carla (my midwife) was finally on call and checked me and I was the same (this was around when my contractions finally spaced out). She and Dr. Farzam then recommended a small dose of pitocin to get my body going again since I was so close to the end. We consented.


Shortly thereafter I started feeling more pressure so Carla checked me and I was complete with a small cervical lip! Carla hung out in the room (she and the doulas are friends) while I labored down. Meanwhile I got serious about resting with some earplugs, as I hadn’t had any sleep for about 24 hours and I was nervous about pushing and how long that would take. It had been hard to sleep before because I was trying not to obsess over the constant beep of the fetal monitor.

Around 4 p.m. they woke me up and told me it was time to push. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but after one push they put oxygen on me and put my feet in stirrups. They told me they were going to coach me and that I needed to push hard and fast and not breath as I pushed. I knew this meant the baby wasn’t doing too well, and I was conscious of the fetal monitor getting slower and slower and slower. It was scary and emotional, and I tried to push all thoughts to the back of my mind and focus hard on what I was doing. I felt very nervous since I couldn’t feel well to know if I was pushing right or enough due to the epidural. All I knew was that I wanted to get that baby out in time! I really appreciated that even though it was an intense/nervous time, everyone tried to help me stay excited and distracted from any complications and I even got to reach down and feel Cedric’s head coming.

Nearing the end I think Carla put in a call to the OB to get ready to do the vacuum. Eventually she said “The baby needs to come out on this push Hope!” She pulled out a mirror and told me to focus and on the next push I was surprised at how effective the push was. She actually had to tell me to slow down. At 4:30 p.m. August 8th, after 20 minutes of pushing and just over 24 hours of labor, Cedric was born and Carla told me to reach down and get my baby. The mirror was awesome though because even though I was more on my back, I could see my baby being born as well as reach down and get him! I think Cedric had the cord wrapped around his neck which was probably part of the heart rate problem. Words cannot describe what I felt to have such a long journey come to a close and meet my baby boy, and on top of that to have things go smoothly. It is probably the most grateful I’ve ever felt!


Cedric had a hard time clearing his lungs and breathing well, so the nurses were having to do a lot of stimulation and checking on him, but they did it all while he was on my chest and I had complete access to smell and touch him. It was so special, amazing, and emotional (keep in mind I missed all of this after Winston’s birth, so it seemed extra extraordinary!)! I did have a 2nd degree tear and more blood loss than normal, but not a hemorrhage. I was a little worried about hemorrhaging at first because I kept hearing Carla asking them to crank the pitocin and she was spending a lot of time very focused down there. But I just told myself if it were really serious Jamie or Christy wouldn’t be so cheerful!

Cedric came out with a huge lump on the back of his head from his head being stuck in my hip, but it went away fairly quickly. It’s amazing how babies’ heads change shape so rapidly. He also came out with the longest little fingers (and fingernails. . .I called them villain nails!), and had the same pattern of milia on his little nose that Winston did. I could tell Winston and Cedric were unique but brothers right away. The next few hours I just soaked up holding Cedric and it felt amazing not to have him taken away from me and to enjoy holding him without all of the weight bearing down on an incision. They didn’t even do his newborn exam until 10:30 p.m. when we asked for it!


My emotional and even hormonal recovery have been so entirely different. I’m much less emotional this time, and I can forget to a certain extent the labor and birth. I remember after having Winston I would hear some mom’s say, “It’s amazing how quickly you forget the pain!” and I remember thinking, “How is that even possible?! I cannot forget one. single. thing. The emotional and sometimes physical ache is constant.” This time I can see what they mean. Even though I experienced a few hours of traumatic labor, the focus has been more on Cedric and our family, and I’ve been able to move on with life without the birth experience completely clouding my view of life. I felt like God gave so much mercy towards me in every step of Cedric’s birth and I feel so undeserving and humbled. We love our littlest guy!


  • Brandy - October 4, 2014 - 2:47 pm

    reading this, brought to mind my own difficult pregnancies, and the difficult, complicated, and sometimes downright nightmarish pregnancies/deliveries of a dozen women in my generation of moms that I personally know.

    I love the modern day trend to natural childbirth, minimal intervention, and all that. really do. but in the midst of the modern medicine vs natural debate, it’s easy to forget on a personal level, that the admittedly overused interventions are there for a reason. they save lives and minimize suffering.

    totally wrong to be pushing them on “normal” deliveries where they are not necessary, and often create problems instead of solving them. but I hate that we mothers can actually become afraid of intervention, and feel a sense of failure and loss when intervention is necessary. or feel like a failure when our pregnancy or delivery ends up being the stuff of nightmares.

    when I watched the episode of “Downton Abby” where Sybil died from preeclampsia, it finally sunk in for the first time: that could have been me were it not for modern medicine. and then there was a slower dawning of understanding that, sometimes childbearing is just really rough, even deadly. for me at least, it’s somewhat comforting to know that…I don’t know, it wasn’t my “fault”, it was out of my hands – all I could do was cope as best I could, which ultimately is what I did. it was the only option I had, really… ;)

    it was beautiful to read how you faced your fears and challenges and then rolled with the punches the best you could. I felt comforted and infused with hope. and like I was able to make better sense of my own story by hearing yours.ReplyCancel

  • Amy Cahill - October 7, 2014 - 3:44 pm

    Very victorious, what a great ending! It sounds like you had an excellent support team which probably makes such a difference in enduring and outcome. I’m so glad you got to feel that rush after having Cedric – sometimes when I’m in labor (and I always feel cowardly and a wimp when it starts up) I just encourage myself with thinking of how good it will feel when the baby comes.
    Glad that Cedric could bring healing and possibly closure for a difficult time in life. I know that even for myself next time could be more difficult than I have ever encountered…or that the best is yet to come. Praise the Lord who promises to “save us through our child bearing” much as one might be saved from drowning :-) Just like Christ, we get to face the curse of sin head on, understand the fellowship of His suffering and through Him we can have the victory!ReplyCancel

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NOTE: Cedric’s birth was such a big testament of God’s goodness and mercy to me, I wrote his birth story with as much detail as I can remember. So much prayer, complicated emotion, and physical preparation took place leading up to it. I didn’t want to forget a thing about the birth, and couldn’t figure out how to compact it into a quicker story. I apologize in advance for writing a book, and hope you enjoy reading! I also want to thank the many care providers I had for their patience and understanding care of me. I was blessed to have y’all on my birth team!


I don’t know exactly how to begin Cedric’s birth story. I really feel like it started in the aftermath of Winston’s birth. Winston’s birth was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to deal with emotionally and physically (not to mention the entire pregnancy was awful). In the months following the birth I dealt with multiple health issues resulting from the emergency c-section, severe depression, and nightmares (or PTSD “episodes” as I called them) from the traumatic labor. I became increasingly terrified of ever being pregnant again. The thought of it just shut me down completely. I just couldn’t imagine facing labor again after what I had experienced with Winston.

After a year or so, I knew that I–we–wanted more biological kids, but getting there felt impossible. I knew that one day I would look back with regret if I chose not to have more kids because I feared suffering (which put in perspective was really hard, but also didn’t last forever). But still, the emotional and physical hurdles seemed like too much. I can honestly say that without God, I would have stopped having kids. I prayed that God would work in my heart to make me willing, because there was no other way.

And so began my journey of not just recovering from the physical effects of Winston’s birth, but God’s work of comforting me and growing my spiritual perspective of the birth. This was a several month process that I won’t go into detail about, as that is a long story of it’s own. Suffice it to say, I reached a point in the journey that I realized my fear of birth or getting pregnant again was becoming a choice. I had grown to be grateful for the experience God gave me in Winston’s birth as something in my past even though I still dealt with emotional ramifications (it definitely became a 2 Cor. 1:3-7 part of my life). But when I looked to the future and placed my fear and my God side by side, my fear loomed bigger. And I knew that it wasn’t truth to believe my God was smaller than my fears. So by God’s grace I fought to believe the truth that God would sustain me, and that he was bigger than my fears and the emotional/physical trauma I would have to relive in facing another pregnancy and birth.

Getting pregnant still felt like I was jumping off a cliff, and I still had nightmares about my previous labor up until the month I got pregnant. Sometimes the spiritual battle was intense, especially on the long days of vomiting or at the end of pregnancy when I was overwhelmed with memories as I anticipated the birth. I really felt like I could only trust God a moment at a time. I felt like I was willingly standing in front of a train, waiting to be hit. I was at peace about being there, but I was still terrified watching the train race towards me and there were a few times if it were possible I would have jumped off the tracks. Psalm 23 became a huge comfort to me.

Aside from the stomach bug and stomach ulcer I got, the sickness was slightly better this pregnancy (read, I threw up a little bit less, and only lost 10 lbs instead of 16). There were a couple weeks where I really wanted to die (and I’m not exaggerating…there was probably something else health-wise going on), but the third trimester was quite a bit better than Winston’s and the summer was super mild to boot. It was fun having Winston around to remind me I had a new little person inside I couldn’t wait to get to know.

In spite of the sickness and the heavy emotions I was sorting through, I felt really grateful for each day that I was carrying my baby boy. This particular pregnancy was surrounded by so much loss. I almost lost count of how many friends lost their babies during my pregnancy (early and late term). It was gut-wrenching. But it was also a good reminder that life is something that God gives, and that is so easily taken for granted sometimes. Ultimately everything is in God’s hands and we have to trust Him, and this reminder helped me leave things in God’s hands as I faced my fears. I knew God would have to accomplish this birth in me–it was in His hands anyway–and I had to trust that the story He had written would be for my good. Whatever the ending, good or bad (Romans 8:28-29).

The last couple weeks of the pregnancy were rather bizarre. I was having a lot of discomfort and trouble with Cedric’s position the whole pregnancy, and he just didn’t like to settle down. At one point my chiropractor was working on me and said, “I really feel like your body resists what I’m doing to help.” We discovered some issues in my tailbone and pressure points in my pelvis that each time she touched, I just lost it emotionally. It was like vivid emotional and somewhat physical flashbacks to Winston’s birth. It was grueling emotionally when I knew I was on the verge of labor and wanted to be prepared. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise because Dr. Kristin helped me pinpoint and put into words what was so traumatizing to me emotionally in Winston’s birth. It was the first time I had been able to pinpoint exactly what was most traumatizing so that Caleb and I could formulate a game plan going into Cedric’s birth, and this was just what I needed.

With Winston’s birth I felt like I lost touch with reality because I was so far inside myself trying to cope with the amount of pain I was experiencing (my labor wasn’t “normal”). I remember the darkness not being dark enough and feeling like my head was going to split open from the blackness. It was like I was gulping water, and I was reaching for a hand to rescue me from drowning but there was no hand. It was the loneliest thing I’ve ever experienced, because I actually became terrified of the loneliness. I remember feeling like even Caleb being near me was a very distant reality or comfort. So we decided going forward that a) we would do our absolute best to not let me experience contractions alone, b) if I felt like I was losing touch with reality, I should focus on tangible things like my feet being grounded on the floor, etc. to help me stay present through the pain, and c) that if my labor started to feel like Winston’s, we would get the epidural because the emotional trauma that resulted from his birth was absolutely not worth the benefits of avoiding an epidural.

Unlike with Winston, I had not dilated at all or had many braxton hicks prior to Cedric’s due date. Up until I went into labor, I had no “labor signs” at all. On August 7th after a short nap, my contractions began suddenly around 4:00 p.m. It was the day after my due date. The contractions were 2 minutes apart lasting 30 seconds. They weren’t horrifically painful but definitely strong enough to make me cranky and have to focus and breathe. I suspected it was labor, but was doubtful (or in denial as Caleb would say) since I had not had any other signs and it started so suddenly. Silly me.

We were planning to go see the in-law’s new house, so we decided to go ahead and head over for a quick tour and dinner to keep me distracted. On the way I remember telling Caleb that he needed to fill the car up with gas in case this was labor, so we took a quick detour. At the house, I was feeling worse and worse and wanting to hide the fact that I was in labor so I wouldn’t feel stressed if it didn’t turn into anything. I took extended bathroom trips and gave people glazed expressions during a contraction. There was no way I was going to keep myself distracted. We were there just over an hour and by the end I was texting my doulas letting them know what was going on and that I was going to go home to attempt resting and relaxing more.

When we got home I told Caleb I had to go straight to the bath. Contractions were still 2 minutes apart, getting harder and longer. I drank some wine and got in the bath, but nothing helped and things didn’t slow down. I texted my birth photographer to say that she should keep her phone nearby that night, and also kept texting my doulas. At that point I told them I still wasn’t convinced it was real labor, but I think I was saying that more because I was terrified that my labor was starting hard and fast and what that might mean (based on my experience with Winston). Because it was definitely painful enough to be labor!

After a while it was clear things were still picking up, and I was too uncomfortable in the bath, so I got in bed and put the tens unit on while Caleb put on Despicable Me 2 (I wanted something not stressful and plenty distracting! It just happened to be on our Netflix). The tens unit was distracting, but not as helpful as I expected. When I realized I was really having to work to stay focused on the movie because of the pain and the contractions coming so fast, I told Caleb that it was imperative we try to sleep because this might be the only chance I get to try. I was finally convinced this was the real deal. We rested for an hour in which Caleb slept and I didn’t. The contractions were long and back to back. They were at least 2 minutes apart if not a little closer. We got up and Caleb helped me get in the shower which was miserable, so I got right back out. I told Caleb he had to start gathering things for the hospital and get dressed and ready so we could leave whenever we needed.

It was probably around midnight at this time. I got a dress on, and then things got chaotic.


To be continued in Part Two. . .


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