There was a day when I was sure I would never be married. As the years of my twenties ticked by, so did my hopes that there was someone in this world that could endure my quirks. The other obstacle to finding love just happened to be my faith. In that way, though, it wasn't really an obstacle at all. It was more like a filter, really. In a world where marriages end quicker than they begin, I suppose having such a filter was of great benefit to me. I was sweating it, though, up until a few months shy of my thirtieth birthday.

I married my best friend in 2014 (we met in 2000). I knew that we wouldn't add any little humans to our home right away. We both love adventures and, as I've discovered recently, Pack n' Plays aren't the only thing one needs on the road with an infant. My little Saturn would certainly never make the many mountains and rivers we would traverse with a trunk loaded down with baby equipment. 

Besides wanting to see so many things together with just the two of us, I had some pretty high standards for things like time, finances, health; quite the checklist! And then about six years into our marriage, I had most of the items checked off my list and knew quite well that I wasn't getting any younger. Fortunately, my husband was feeling as ready as I was. So we decided we'd like to try to grow our family. 

And, as with most good things, it took time. More time than I thought it would, in fact.  I'll never understand why God does things the way He does in the timing He does them. However, I have discovered that His timing is perfect despite my own plans and timelines. Whether we are ready or not, His plan always rules the day...or week...or the month...or even the year (yes, that was a Friends reference).

Given all that backstory, I know it's been a while since my last post when I shared we were expecting a baby. The months that followed that blog post were a blur and I spent most of the time planning and preparing. Well, we ended up having a sweet baby girl in December! It's been a few months now and we're slowly getting our bearings and learning how best to care for this little life we've been gifted. Adjusting to such a huge event in life is an ever-evolving process and one that I'm discovering has stretched me in ways I needed to be stretched.

We got to see her perfect, little profile many times before she was born!

A few weeks ago I realized that I probably needed to write about our birth story. While it's best for me to document stories like this so I don't forget, I also know that it's quite helpful to others who may be expecting. I can't tell you how many labor and delivery stories I read or vlogs I watched to help prepare myself for my own experience. While each story differed so drastically sometimes, it gave me comfort knowing so many women have had very positive experiences having their babies. 

It all officially began on a Saturday morning around 7 a.m. I say "officially" because I had been having some contractions off and on for a while by that point. I was having regular checks at the doctor and they kept doing fetal non-stress tests to make sure the baby was tolerating going past my due date. I really wanted her to be born in November, but God had other plans (if my previous paragraphs didn't highlight that theme in my life). She was doing well inside the womb, so the doctor just let me keep going since she knew I really wanted my body to go into labor on it's own. But that Saturday morning my contractions woke me up. It was the first time they had done that. After about an hour of trying desperately to sleep in, I decided to go ahead and get up and start my day.

My plan was to clean the house from top to bottom knowing that sometime that week I'd likely go into full-blown labor. So my husband and I had our traditional Saturday breakfast, I gave him a hair cut and then I started cleaning every surface I could find. In fact, at one point I was texting with a friend and she was seriously concerned I wouldn't make it to the hospital in time because I was so laser focused on a clean house.

Our little nursery reading nook.

Steadily throughout the day, the contractions were getting undeniably stronger. Though, they still didn't seem to be following any sort of pattern. Sometimes they were five minutes apart and other times they were twenty minutes apart. I didn't know what to think and I was afraid I'd blow past the point I should be heading to the hospital. After cleaning the whole house, I decided to take a warm shower. I knew this would likely relax me. 

But after the shower was over, I was scratching my head about what I should do. I didn't want to go into the hospital too soon and have them send me home. By that time, though, my contractions were getting pretty painful and I was afraid I would get to the hospital too late. I decided I would utilize our local nurse line to get their take on the situation. I explained what I was going through and she said unless my water had broke, I should continue to labor at home. So I thought, "Okay...there's my answer."

Then the thought struck me; had my water broke? I had heard other women had their water break and it wasn't like a huge, dramatic gush like you see in the movies. I decided then I'd rather be safe than sorry and a premature trip to the hospital was better than the repercussions of waiting too long. We did our daily Bible reading (through my contractions, mind you...I sat on the labor ball while D read our daily selection from scripture), and then D started to load the car. I might've gotten a little impatient at this point because the contractions were really hurting which made me desire to more quickly get to the hospital so that I could have my pain managed a little more effectively.

We got to the hospital around 11 p.m. and they took me into triage. It was then they had to go through the process of testing to see if my water had actually broke. This took a few hours but, thankfully, when I got to the hospital my contractions had eased up a bit. The nurses on duty at that time came in and let me know that my water did break and that I wouldn't be leaving the hospital until the baby was born.

The view from my hospital bed perch.

I thought at this point my nerves would've spiked. They didn't, though. Somehow, by the grace of God, I confidently walked down the hall to the labor and delivery room and got settled in for the experience of my life!

To be continued...

Do you know someone who accidently had their baby at home (or on the drive to the hospital)? If you've had a baby, what was your experience with knowing when you were actually in labor?