Annie's Birth Story

We are parents! I have to pinch myself sometimes to make sure it's real. At least I'm not pinching Annie to make sure she's real. Well she is! And life is infinitely more wonderful because of her.

Annie's birth story starts long before August 22nd. I write this with tenderness, gratitude, and empathy because I know how painful birth stories can be for many people. While we didn't have to battle with infertility for years as some dear friends have, we did have to wait and try and wait and pray for much much longer than we ever anticipated. Negative pregnancy tests are the worst. No wait...periods are really the worst. One more month of waiting. Fantastic.

After many months of those prayers and peeing on a stick we were finally blessed THAT moment. Who knew that one extra little line on a stick could induce so much happiness!

The next few months inched along, like waiting for Christmas x 20. We finally hit the "safe zone" at 12 weeks and I could breathe again. Then at 19 weeks I received the shock of my life whe we found out the "little guy" I'd been calling "He" for weeks was actually a little girl. WHIPLASH! Sorry, girl.

More months passed with all of the exciting milestones of ultrasounds, feeling her kick for the first time, dream-come-true baby showers, watching my tummy move, and feeling all the feels. And then a random twist of divine intervention moved us from our Vancouver, WA home and friends back to Utah for Scott's new job...when I was 8 MONTHS PREGNANT.

I thought for SURE that all of the packing, moving, bumpy driving, change of pace would help get this girl out of me a little early. I was counting on it, in fact, because my sister was set to leave for her 18-month mission to Argentina on August 24th--TWO DAYS after Annie's due date. I was bound and determined to do whatever I could to "deliver the package" in time for Auntie Bit to meet my girl. I walked, I did squats, I bounced on the trampoline, I downed salsa and pineapple, I hiked, I "walked the curb" for miles and miles. I even took black cohosh--which was absolutely disgusting but worth it. Anything and everything was worth it. Ask any mom who delivered a late baby...worth it!

It was Saturday August 20th (two days before my due date) when my very common Braxton Hicks contractions began to be slightly uncommon. All evening my contractions got more and more pronounced, painful, and consistent (enter black cohosh)....till Sunday morning came and baby decided she didn't want to come yet. It was probably a good thing too since Scott had to play town hero that morning and save the neighborhood from two intentionally-started brush fires. Thank goodness we'd gone for a drive to get my contractions going again because we spotted the fires, woke up the neighborhood, alerted the fire department, and then Scott took on the flames with a garden hose. My hero!

Once the fires were out and the neighborhood was safe, baby girl decided she did in fact want to be born. After hours of counting those darned, painful contractions we went to the hospital around 8:00. I was sure I was at least a 4...maybe even a 5. We even made bets on it. I mean, 24-hours of contractions is bound to do something, right?.... Yeah I was a 2.5. A 2 AND A HALF!?!?!?! Yeah, Scott won the milkshake.

An hour of watching the Olympics Closing Ceremony, another hour of walking, stair climbing, and lunges, and...I FINALLY was a 4. A 4!!! They weren't going to send me home! And thank goodness because I was HURTING. Serious props to women who do this whole thing without medication. I got the epidural around 11:30 and then had the most peaceful sleep of my life. (For all you new mom's out there, the epidural was not as bad as I was expecting/fearing. It really does feel like a bee sting--a quick surprising sting, and then all of that peaceful numbness. Wonderful)

By the time I woke up it was August 22nd, my actual due date, and just about time for the grand finale. I started pushing around 5:15, and kept pushing for another 2 hours. While It didn't seem that long, my body was definitely feeling it. Literally feeling it, because my epidural started to wear off a bit and in all of the "I'm having a baby" craziness I forgot to push the button for more. The pressure was more pain than just pressure, and it hurt A LOT.

And then, that most miraculous, relieving, wondrous last push....and she was out. Here. Purple, cone-headed, crying, looking all around, and so ALIVE! And with so much HAIR--no wonder it took so long. They put her right on my chest and--oh my heart just burst! The mixture of relief, gratitude, disbelief, and instant love just consumed me. We wept in sheer joy and amazement.

We talked to her and sang "I am a Child of God" to try to calm her down. She looked up with her perfect little eyes into my face, reached up her hand and grabbed onto my necklace, and whatever was left of my heart melted completely.

7:32 AM. August 22nd (what a punctual girl). 8 lbs 4 oz. 20 inches long. Full head of black hair. Slender fingers, slender legs, and Grampy's long toes. Absolutely perfect in every way.

What a miracle. We love you Annie Girl

Contact me if you are interested in doing a birth video! We'd recommend our videographer Cassie Rogers 100%!

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