A Birth Story

Lucille Joy is here.

And, as typical throughout my pregnancy with her, she came in quite the surprising of ways.  I have a feeling that her little life added to our family is going to make for some very interesting adventures.  She is spunky, full-head haired, and gentle.  Her eyes pierce into my spirit each time she looks at me.  So very intentional, she is. And loving.  And peaceful.

I started with some contractions a week ago today (Saturday). They were somewhat minor and yet more than I had had over the last few weeks.  I was trying not to psych myself up, as I pre-labored with Ella for five days before her arrival.  But even though Lucy was still about 10 or 11 days from her due date, I just had this feeling that she was coming.  Saturday evening came and went, and I had contractions all night.  Not strong enough to denote labor, but strong enough to denote labor.  You know what I mean? They strengthened in intensity and grew closer together as Saturday turned to Sunday.  For a few hours on Sunday, I managed to rest a bit.  And the contractions slowed...

It felt like the calm before the storm.


They came back with greater intensity in the evening, but they still weren't close enough to officially take a ride to the hospital.  We were frustrated, wondering if this would be another 5 day long process.  I decided to attempt to sleep, took a Tylenol PM to help facilitate some rest, and laid down.  Within the next hour, the contractions came back with a vengeance---enough that I was automatically pushing.

It was "Go Time."

We rushed into the car, attempting not to panic. Ever try to not push a baby out when you're not at the hospital yet? It's scary.

We ended up not even making it to our destination hospital.  We stopped at one on the way.  Neither of us wanted to have a baby in the car.  When we got to the hospital, I tried to remain calm. I had no idea who my doctor would be, if the hospital would honor my birth plan, or who was going to even be in the room.   They were brisk with excitement, care, and joy.  As I scribbled my signature on the clipboard, the front desk worker said sweetly, "Your OB will be Dr. Redden." In my head, I said, "Dr. Red? Are you serious?" I looked at David and mouthed "Red". Tears. We were exactly where we were supposed to be at the exact time.  God is always before us and behind us--carefully weaving our journeys into His perfect plan for our lives.

They wisked us into a room where it became even more clear that the baby would come soon.  Though my desire for an epidural didn't go quite as planned--in fact, not as planned at all, I did get my opportunity to deliver naturally. On pitocin. I don't know that I'd recommend it.

And, yet, because of the intensity of pitocin-induced contractions with a faulty epidural, I had the most supernatural of experiences.  It was the middle of the night. I thought I was going to die.  I'd been at it for over 36 hours; I thought I was headed for the bottom half of my body to be numbed. Instead, the pain was intensified twice as much. My husband was watching every machine, every heart-rate, every blood pressure reading, in between spooning my lips with ice chips.

And even though it was not what we expected, God still came through.

Dr. Redden arrived. And my spirit fell into rest.  During contractions, I pushed with everything I had, looking at my husband as if this might be "it". You know, like "I'm going to Heaven now, huh-knee. See you later....."

In between the intensity of contractions, peace flooded in. And for those one minute intervals, I could barely keep my eyes open. I was practically falling asleep between contractions.

Ten to fifteen minutes later, I released a battle cry scream with every cell in my being. And, she was here.

On my chest. Crying in her first breaths of air.


Promise fulfilled.

My legs were shaking. My heart racing.  Not a dry eye in the room.

Her daddy clipped the cord.

And the rest is History. His-story. My story. Our story. 


2,000 years ago in the present moment.


She is beautiful in every way. Every hard-ship, every seeming "surprise" and twist of my will.  Every invitation from God to let go in the process, every act of Red---of Grace---here on my chest. Gulping in Life outside the womb.

And now we get to learn how to hold her. How to hold Grace....and Light.

How do we hold Redemption? How do we steward Dreams being fulfilled in our midst by the DreamGiver Himself? How do we live in such a place of extravagant and outrageous Love?

We Rest. In a way we've never known before, we Rest.........