My daughter was born January 21, 2017 at 2:25 am in the water at Baby + Co. Wow. I still can’t believe she is here. I have a daughter, yall.
Just as I did with Bennett, it’s time for me to write and help process the days and events that brought her from within me to earth side for her first breath. What a journey it’s been. The differences from the end of Bennett’s pregnancy from the end of Amelia’s were very night and day. I was truly miserable at the end of Bennett’s. Like, get this baby OUT, I can’t stand another day. Amelia’s final weeks were so different though. I was in no rush, simply because I knew what was coming. I spent as much time doing one on one things with Bennett, enjoying uninterrupted evenings with Patrick and saying a slow goodbye to such a sweet season for our family. Don’t get me wrong, we were so excited to finally meet our sweet baby girl, but it was truly a bittersweet goodbye as the weeks and days passed and we drew closer to her arrival.
At 37 weeks, I started experiencing braxton hicks/prodromal labor. This was night after night and days upon days of braxton hicks/contractions. Some more painful than others, some nights were consistent and timeable for hours, only to fade off before the sun rose which would leave me feeling exhausted and frustrated. By 39 weeks, I was just starting to get to the point of really feeling done. I tried so hard though to remind myself that every baby writes their own story and that Amelia might just decide to stay in until 42 weeks (thankfully that didn’t happen!). I am so thankful for my sweet friends who encouraged me over and over again the the final days that I was almost done and to just hang on. Some people LOVE being pregnant and although I am very thankful for the entire process, it’s not my “favorite” experience.
If you know me, you know my love for lists and “having it all together”. Ohhhhhh what a curveball Amelia’s arrival threw me. Or should I say chucked at my face. I didn’t feel prepared for her arrival until 39 weeks and 3 days. Between the crazy work season and then getting sick at the end of my pregnancy, it took 276 days to say, “Ok baby girl, I’m ready”. I spent week 38 telling her to stay in because of the ice storm. Then I asked her to wait until I had my haircut and toes painted, which sounds silly but I reallllly wanted a few “me” moments before she came. Finally, on Wednesday the 18th, I stood in my house and said. Ok. If she arrives NOW, I would be ok.
Patrick and I went out to dinner at Over the Falls, the night before we went into labor with Bennett, so we decided to try the same thing just for fun. On Wednesday the 18th, we went out as a family and really enjoyed our time together as three. I woke up on Thursday and Bennett and I spent the entire day at home with the exception of going out to pick up groceries that evening. It truly was a lazy day of just one on one time for us. Patrick had planned to spend the evening at the airport flying after work, so I was looking forward to a quite evening of relaxing after I put Bennett to bed.
You see, this is where it all starts.
Bennett and I went to pick up groceries at 5:30 pm on the 19th. We came home and as I was unloading everything, I saw panic hit Bennett’s face moments before he vomited all over the playroom. He has never thrown up before so this was a shock for both of us. I called Patrick to tell him what was going on but to let him know I could handle it and that he didn’t need to come home and end his night. He told me he would fly for a little while but would then come home to help. I cleaned up the playroom, gave Bennett a bath and brought him back downstairs to cuddle on the couch. As I rounded the corner to sit down, I saw it again. The fear and then the vomit. Everywhere. At this point, I knew that something was up and that Patrick probably needed to head home for an extra set of hands.
Bennett threw up all night. We finally were able to rock him to sleep at 10 pm. While rocking him, I noticed a few strong braxton hicks and thought. No way. Not tonight. I am already so exhausted. I went downstairs and sat on my birth ball and had three contractions that were strong enough and caused enough discomfort that I texted my birth photographer JUST to let her know. I had contractions all night, along with a little boy who continued to throw up. Patrick emailed work at 4 am to let them know he was staying home with Bennett and to also watch me, as we were still unsure if this was labor or another long drawn out event of braxton hicks and false alarms.
Friday the 20th – The first question Patrick asked me was, “did they stop?” as they always had in prior nights. They hadn’t though. This was our first sign that this might be the real deal. At 7 am, they were 5-7 minutes a part and lasting around 1 minute. They were completely tolerable, yet consistent enough for us to nervously laugh at each other at the thought that I was actually in labor. I decided to call the birth center a little after 8 am just to alert them, “just in case”. Mandesa, the on call midwife wanted me to call back in when they were closer to 5 minutes.
We went about our morning, trying to ignore them all while taking care of a sick Bennett. They would occasionally space out throughout the morning but never completely went away. We put Bennett down for nap at noon and ate lunch. I decided to lay down and take a nap knowing that if this WAS the real deal, I would need as much energy going into it and especially going into it at night time.
By 2 pm, we were up from our naps and I was starting to get nervous that I still wasn’t convinced I was in labor but I knew the birth center would be closing soon for the weekend. I called into the birth center to go in and have her checked out. She seemed quieter to me. That could have been from the stress of me not knowing if this was it or not, me taking care of a vomiting 2 year old or the fact that I actually was in early labor and just didn’t KNOW it yet. Regardless, they were more than happy to see us and have us checked out.
We decided to go ahead and pack the car, finish packing the birth bags and head out there. During this process, I had a few contractions that made me stop and sway and upon my final trip to the bathroom to pee, I noticed …
Stop reading if you aren’t comfortable with birth. 🙂
I lost my mucus plug. All which was entirely new to me because with Bennett’s birth, my water shattered and that was it. At this point, I knew something was happening. I knew that I was either in labor or was going to be in labor within the next day or so.
I lost my plug and my contractions picked up. We drove to the center and were greeted by Mandesa to get hooked up to the monitors and get checked out. Here’s the thing, with Bennett, when I arrived at the hospital, I was .5 cm dilated and a -2 station. Basically, nothing. 15 hours later I had only dilated to a 1.5 cm’s (so 1 additional cm) and was still a -2. Devastating. That is when I decided on getting an epidural with Bennett.
“You’re a solid 3 cm’s dilated”. I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that I had already PASSED where I was with Bennett and everything was still manageable. Even Patrick looked at me and grinned. It was just the encouragement that I needed. Mandesa wanted us to go home and rest (smart midwife) as we still had a ways to go. Patrick and I decided to go grab dinner and walk around downtown Raleigh, just to see if we could get things moving before we made the decision to drive the 45 minutes home, knowing we would eventually have to drive the 45 minutes back.
We went out to I ❤ NY pizza in downtown Raleigh and Patrick and I would just laugh as I would have to turn my head and body while doing deep breathing through a contraction while we ate. We were pretty sure people thought we were fighting which made the situation even more comical. What a perfect last date!

We were instructed to call back to the birth center whenever our contractions were three minutes a part. Between 4:30 and 6:30, we ate and walked and had contractions 3 minutes a part. I called Mandesa who graciously agreed to head back to the birth center to check me one last time before we made the decision on if we were heading home for the night or not. We returned to the birth center and I was still a 4 even though she was a little lower. We made the decision to head home to rest, try and sleep and return whenever the intensity of my contractions had increased.
This is when things started to get a little crazy. We labored at home from 7 pm to 11 pm. When I no longer could lay down and rest, I tearfully asked Patrick to call Mandesa back and have her meet us at the birth center. We quickly got in the car, let our birth photographer know to meet us there and drove the 45 dreadful minutes to the birth center. Even though it was almost midnight, we hit every single red light. At one point, I was having a contraction and felt the car slowing. I SCREAMED at Patrick to go and we ran the red light. Whoops.
Upon arrival to the birth center, I was already shaky. I saw our midwives and immediately begged her to not send me home. It was all I could think about. I just couldn’t go back home. We went in (it was now midnight) and she checked me again. Still a 4. 50% effaced. 0 station. They can’t admit you (let you stay) until you’re technically in active labor. Defeat came in the number 4. I was having flashbacks to Bennett’s birth of not progressing. I also was panicking that if I was only a 4, I couldn’t do this any longer.
Mandesa and Danielle told me they would open a room for me to labor in for an hour or so but if I STILL hadn’t progressed, I really would need to go home and rest/labor. As they prepared my room, I questioned myself. How could I do this any longer? How could I only be a 4? How much worse could it get?!?
So let’s look at this timeline. At midnight, I was a 4. One of the midwives suggested the tub and as it filled, I labored in the room.

This is where I had to have a come to Jesus moment. I was losing it. As each contraction hit, I would tense up. I even had moments where I would scream and freak out. My midwives and Patrick were so essential to bringing me back down. The ONLY way you’re going to progress is to relax through each one. You literally have to give into the pain. You can’t run from it and that is what I found terrifying. I felt like I couldn’t do it. I even found myself saying, “I can’t do this, I need an epidural!” Between Mandesa and Danielle, they were exactly what I needed to get me right in my head to power on. To believe in myself in a way that I didn’t know I could. To change my attitude from, “I can’t do this to YES, yes I can.”

Mandesa helping me through a contraction
That’s when they spoke the magical words, “You can get in the tub now.”
At 1:05 am, I stepped into the tub. This was the game changer for me. Onto my hands and knees I went, as I gave way to each wave of pain that brought me closer to meeting Amelia. It was like being in a violent storm, where you’re being thrown around and you can feel your body breaking. My back felt like someone was taking a sledge hammer and shattering my spine every time a contraction would come. My legs would shake in pain. I moaned and vocalized in a way that seemed foreign and detached from myself. Patrick would spray hot water over my back during each contraction, along with offer words of encouragement and affirmation.

What I love about midwifery care is how they could tell that things were changing just by how I sounded (among other things). The midwives left Patrick and I to labor alone for an hour and by 1:50, they found themselves back in my room to observe me and listen to Amelia’s heartbeat while I continued to labor in the tub. At 2:05, Mandesa checked me and made me open my eyes to look at her for the first time. “You’re an 8, Ann. Don’t you ever tell me or yourself that you can’t do something. It’s time to get you officially admitted and have this baby! You’re doing it!”
An 8. The number that brought a surge of confidence and yet a wave of, “Oh crap, I don’t have a choice but to finish this wild ride.”
From 2:05 to 2:20, things happened quickly. I started feeling the urge to bear down… which is completely different from pushing with Bennett, where the nurses told me how and when to push. At 2:20, Mandesa checked me to find me at a 10. I was ready to push this baby out!
I pushed Amelia out within minutes (instead of hours like Bennett). My body completely took over and did what it had to do to bring her into this world. Patrick stood behind me as I grabbed his arms for leverage and I felt her descend through the birth canal and her head emerge. I looked down as Mandesa grabbed her, brought her up and out of the water and put her to my chest.
At 2:25 am, Amelia Everly was brought earth side for her first perfect breath.

I did it.
The difference between Bennett’s and Amelia’s births was incredible. Amelia’s birth left me feeling empowered in a way that I didn’t know existed. It was everything that I had been wanting but at the same time, nothing like I had planned.
Amelia’s birth was like having the sun rise after a violent storm. I stood on the edge of the water as the sun rose and the warmth of a new day graced my body. The water came and went and with the old waves, the season of being a mother of one slowly disappeared and washed away to leave a new woman. An empowered woman. A woman ready to take on the new identity of mother of two.
I’m thankful for every moment of Amelia’s arrival. She’s here! She’s perfect! She’s finally in my arms! I want to blog more about the difference between midwifery care and obgyn and what I took away from both Bennett’s and Amelia’s births but for now, this sleepy mama just needed to get out her actual story.

Thank you Lauren Jolly Photography for capturing her birth story!



The peace that followed her arrival. I was able to just hold her, love on her and finally meet the little girl I had been carrying for 10 months.

Daddy holding Amelia for the first time.
Danielle and Mandesa ❤
We were home by 8 am for big brother to meet Amelia. Daddy and B then made pancakes to celebrate the first day of our new season. ❤