…baby #3 was born.
I was reminded Sunday at our church’s ladies’ night out just how good moms are about reminiscing and re-telling birth stories. I adore that part of being a woman. I can almost cry when I hear the sentimental details, laugh about the crazy things that women scream at their husbands, and I hate to say that I am even intrigued by the stories about 48 hour labor and 10+ pound babies. (It makes me more thankful for a 19 hour labor with my firstborn.) I can honestly say I have no problem with the tendency that women have to “one up” the other women with how horrific their birth experience really was. I love every bit of the competitive story-telling.
As I was driving home from the ladies’ event, I realized I had never shared photos that my friend and talented photographer, Jessica Mooney, took at the birth of Hadleigh Kate 1 year, 2, months, and 3 days ago. (***Side note: She and I have a quirky thing for numbers, so I thought she’d appreciate my posting this with a numerical reference.) I meant to post on Hadleigh’s first birthday, but that happened to be election day, so my mind was swamped with red, white, and blue thoughts.
My precious Hadleigh has been such a gift this past year, teaching us so much to depend on the Lord. After our first two babies, Drew and I pridefully thought we had the parenting thing down, but Hadleigh has kept us on our toes from the beginning.
My water broke on a Sunday when my husband was a couple hours away, supposedly picking up the kids from a weekend getaway to their grandparent’s house. In actuality, he was stranded a couple hours away with a flat tire, and the bolts were so tightly screwed that the tire-changing process was a little longer than normal. He didn’t answer his phone. I laughed. Several friends and family members didn’t answer their phones. I laughed. I finally got a hold of one brother who I thought was in DFW, but was actually going back to West Texas. I laughed. My husband’s secretary and dear friend, Cindy, did get my message while I was on the other line, and she was the heroine of the day, rushing me 45 minutes down the road to the hospital. When we were at a dead-stop in traffic on the highway due to the Cowboys game, we both laughed. When I heard my parents (who share one car) had not one, but 2 tires (ironic?) that were to be replaced the next day and some other repair was to be done, I
laughed cried. My doctor had the flu. The hospital didn’t have the paperwork from the doctor. Everything seemed so badly timed, but I think it’s times like those that, in hindsight, you can laugh again and praise the Lord because He, and only He, could carry you through.
I’ll spare you from the remaining details and save them for another ladies’ night out birth-story swap, but here’s the rest of the story in photographs.
Can you tell Reece dressed herself that day? Her “Lolli” said she was adement about this all-pink, girly outfit. I love the fact that she was 100% Reece that day, excited to welcome her sister in the most froo-froo way!
My brother, sister-in-law and sister were immediately at the hospital to help with the kids. I’ve heard some silly stories from the waiting room. If only I had been a fly on the wall.
Oh, and I have no idea what that little playdoh creature is.
Our friends drove all the way from Oklahoma to see us. It made us feel pretty special, and gave the kids some company when the labor seemed to drag…on…forever.
She was due to be born on 11.11.11 (and my numerical heart sank for a split second in time when my water 5 days early), but I guess she decided wanted to surprise me. My numerical heart is trumped by my love of surprises. The timing was perfect. She was perfect. God was good.