Hosanna Lynn~ a birth story.

My baby sleeps..hmmmm…mommy’s time…and I have really been meaning to put all that I hold in my heart regarding her birth down into words for quite some time.  I guess I have been afraid…afraid to face all the emotions and chaos within.  Afraid to revisit an emotion so intense and raw that it chokes my throat and blurs my mind. I’m sitting in the quiet of my home wondering how I’m gonna piece this all together…

So many wonderfully fantastic people have inspired me to finally do this–so, here it goes…

For starters, she was not a planned pregnancy…my husband and I were 3 months married when we were surprised with her existence–a surprise that took our breath away and our life’s future agenda away.  We had plans for our life–just like any other newly married couple…let’s take a few years…or more…and focus on us…build our careers, etc…you know–the traditional talk nowadays.  And with a flash of light–literally, a new perspective and a new set of priorities was set before us.  We knew this was good–well, my husband especially knew.  You should’ve seen the light in his eyes when he found out he was gonna be daddy for the first time.  He grounded me…he kept me centered the first couple of months as I kept trying to swallow down the reality of this new event in our lives.  I’m not gonna lie–I almost crumbled to the floor in tears when we first found out…I wasn’t ready…I had wanted to be given the time to stir up the burning desire for a child…there was no burning desire…that’s for sure.  But, she was so nice to me still..  even on my worst days—when my emotions could hardly handle this intrusion on my life’s course… I could almost hear her nudging me inside and softly saying, “Momma, it’s gonna be ok.”  My sister claims that she could get a pretty good vibe on her two boys while they were still in the womb–she felt that she had a sense about their personalities, and even a perspective about their life’s purpose on this earth.  And she was right–each one she has nailed with perfect accuracy so far.  I had a vibe from my little girl too…that everything was gonna be alright–and that this thing that was happening to me was God’s grace in my life.  So, I learned how to let go and press into all that God was doing in my life and in my body.  So, in essence…daughter was ministering to mother…she was telling me to take a chill pill.  I’ll thank her later for that I think.

I have to exclaim (since it may never happen again) my pregnancy was absolutely perfect.  Perfect in every way.  I loved being pregnant–I loved that my baby girl was so nice to me..I could literary feel her kindness to me every day of that nine months.  I NEVER experienced any of the traditional pregnancy woes (well- ok, besides the constant need to pee)…my life had little change–I felt like myself the entire time–with a tiny person inside to keep me company.  I loved the attention.  I loved the extra care my hubby gave me. I loved the excitement of friends and family that I felt almost everyday.  I loved the moments of announcing the news of her life… and most of all I loved experiencing something I was always curious to experience: the journey of motherhood and the mysteriously wonderful gift of life.

1am–the morning of her due date…I tiptoe to the bathroom…cause I really gotta pee—all you 9 month preggo ladies wave your hands in the air–cause you know it’s true.  I fell back into bed and snuggled up into my warm comforter.  I suddenly felt a trickle down my legs…no way…I could have sworn that I just emptied my bladder–uh oh…the sudden realization that occurs to me spreads emotional shock waves across my entire body…THIS IS IT!!  Yuppers, the trickle of ‘water’ had officially started…and as I sat there in my bathroom, wave after wave of excitement and then fear and then excitement and then fear buffed at me.  I knew she had been alive and kicking inside me for 9 months, but the reality of her being real and outside of my body for me to touch was still far from me.  I loved being pregnant, and I didn’t want to slide into the next season of life until I knew I was absolutely ready.  Just the night before, my hubby took me to a nice Italian restaurant for a last-minute date– and then starbucks for coffee and dessert–I didn’t want to give up this way of life yet, did I?  Well, she didn’t agree and she was extremely punctual.  I didn’t fight her on it either–cause I knew she would win.

I chose to go back to bed to attempt sleep.  Not because I wanted to…but because every class I took, or book I read said the best way to help get labor started was to relax yourself—so sleep seemed the proper choice.  I come from the school of thought that birth can be beautiful, and I had really wanted to experience it naturally–drug-free.  I also didn’t want to go to the hospital until my contractions were getting pretty intense and closer together–so that I could walk in the door of the hospital and plop her out–just like that.  It was all planned out in my mind…or so I thought.

I might have gotten an hour in…’might’.  I wasn’t having any intense contractions (just mild and infrequent ones) by 7am–so we decided to try to go for a nice brisk walk to get this show on the road…yet, still nothing substantially was happening to kick the contractions up a notch.  We called the doctor, and they wanted to check to make sure that my water had truly broken…which I don’t get at all–either you can feel water coming out of you or you can’t–why would they need to check to make sure??  Craziness…but we went in nonetheless.  And off to the hospital they charged us–no duh.

~me right before we left for the hospital~
We tried everything…every natural stimulation we could remember from our natural childbirth classes and thereafter to get my contractions going more intensely and frequently.  This was the issue:  once your water had broken, they (the doctors) want the baby out within a 24 hour period–by 12 hours they are already hooking you to an I.V. with antibiotics to prevent any infections.  So…the I.V. was looking like it was in my near future.  I truly wanted to go this entire labor with no attachments on me–except when they had to monitor the baby here and there.  I felt like I was fighting against forces that I could never win against.  Time was not my friend…and my cervix was as stubborn as a mule.  On our own–using our own natural means we got me open to about 2 centimeters by 3pm.  Oh boy….here come the meds.
I was put on Pitocin and the antibiotics right away–well as soon as they could get me hooked up–for I had pushed them away for as long as I possibly could.  I felt heart-broken.  I had it all planned perfectly–everything was suppose to happen the way I had dreamed it would be–what was happening to me?  I felt like I had no power…no voice…nothing that I wanted mattered anymore.

Support came.  Understanding and love were in their eyes…and I knew we would get through this–disappointed heart and all.
Family showed up to help me through each contraction and to document the special  moments.  I loved having them there with me….they made the hospital room feel more like home.

We labored on through the night–doing everything we could to ease the pain and to speed the process along for baby’s sake.  I remember thinking that this a lot more pain than other women made it out to be….but then again–maybe I’ll forget about the intensity of this too once I see her face…how could I ever forget this?  This felt  like something traumatic that leaves its mark on you for the rest of your life.  And.. oh how the pitiocin was cranked up and up…will this ever end?

My body continued to stubbornly hold tight–not yielding to the drugs or the time clock.  My heart failed me.  I talked to her….I asked her to come…I welcomed her with the every cell in my body–with all that I had left in me.  We prayed..we hoped, we looked down the dark tunnel with the expectation of a glimmer of light.  Failure to progress was all we got.

Time was running out…and I let them do whatever it took to open my body for her–they ordered the epidural to hopefully relax my body the rest of the way.

And it did…slowly…one centimeter at a time…one hour at a time.

I felt like a failure.  I felt like I failed myself…I felt like I failed my husband.  I felt like I was letting down everyone who was rooting for me–and worse of all–I felt like I was failing her.  I wanted to start the entire day over–I began to recount every detail of the decisions made and wonder what I should have done.

I had to let go..I had to give into what was happening to me…the fight was over.

Well, not completely..the pushing has just begun…

Before I could catch my breath, the doctor was there…and it was time.
I wanted to push..cause I knew that was what I was suppose to do…but deep down I knew I didn’t want to push.. cause it was the end of something beautiful to me. I loved this time we had together..being bonded so tightly body and heart. I loved being able to keep her safe in my little pouch and have her with me wherever I went. I wasn’t ready to transition into this separation just yet…and it was being forced upon me. I’ve heard so many pregnant women desire GREATLY to be done with their pregnancy by the end…and it just wasn’t that way for me…it’s as if I needed more time. I knew I was gonna feel this emotion a thousand times over and over again in her lifetime…they just grow up so darn fast.

Inhale, exhale…one last big push..and my life had changed in an instant…

….and everything was gonna be alright–in fact:  perfect.
I was in complete amazement.  I couldn’t believe that she was real and that she was mine.

I can still hear the chorus of people surrounding me ringing in my ears: “She’s beautiful!!” and I knew she was…

It was love at first sight..no doubt.

And there she was..pink, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed; fully embracing her moment of fame.

No words…only a heart full of gratitude to the Giver of Life.

Cutting us loose from one another looked painful for both…which to me perfectly summed up this pregnancy and birth in a way…
we were content to stay together—
only strong outside forces could tear down the walls of our peaceful world.
And I just held her for as long as they would let me…I was so tired…so very tired.  I wanted to have more energy for the moment…since it was our first…but all I could do was hold her and tell her how much mommy loved her.
Weighing in at 6 lbs, 6 ozs– 19” long

There was so much said…so much love in that little hospital room.  My mom said my first words to her when she was placed on my belly were:
“Thank you for coming!  She’s a girl, right?  Hello, I’m your momma”
I love it!
Everything was washing away…the fears..the doubts..the disapointments..all gone.  I don’t remember a lot after she arrived that night…I remember my peanut gallery laughing, and talking long into the night as they swoon over little Anna.  I remember loving the sound of familiar voices all around me celebrating with us the birth of our first-born.  She was so beautiful…and she brought so many smiles to so many faces her first minutes of life.

I slept…at least I think I did….like I said..all was fuzzy afterwards…I was either too happy to care or too tired to recognize what was happening anymore…good thing I have pictures to tell me the story…so I can tell you the story.

The following day…the onterage of friends and family with eager eyes and willing arms to take hold of our little Anna came and went.  I loved their love for her.  Nothing feels better to a momma’s heart.

She had an awesome birthday…and so many came out to celebrate with us.

They say it takes a village to raise a child…I think that makes sense.
Why would you wanna do it any other way?  Each person has so much to give to a new life…a new perspective…a new set of arms to hug, a new idea to learn, new adventures to go on, and an extra pair of eyes to protect.

It was time to go home…and what better day to go home on then our first anniversary?  It was perfect…I couldn’t have orchestrated a better first year of marriage present if I had wanted to.  Nothing says I love you more to the one you love,  then the gift of life.








Home with Baby.

They didn’t have you where I come from
Never knew the best was yet to come
Life began when I saw your face
And I hear your laugh like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough, is forever enough?
How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough?
Cause I’m never, never giving you up

I slip in bed when you’re asleep
To hold you close and feel your breath on me
Tomorrow there’ll be so much to do
So tonight I’ll drift in a dream with you

As you wander through this troubled world
In search of all things beautiful
You can close your eyes when you’re miles away
And hear my voice like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough, is forever enough?
How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough?
Cause I’m never, never giving you up

~Lullaby by the Dixie Chicks



This has been healing for me.  I needed a venue to get my thoughts and heart stirrings spoken out loud–and off my chest; it feels good.  This little girl and this birth have taught me so many things….I love being a mommy…I love that when everything doesn’t go according to plan–it doesn’t mean it’s any less beautiful….I love that she teaches me so much about myself…and I love that she was right all along…everything was gonna be ok–and it still is.

To view my husband’s perspective of the day, click on the below video clip:

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