over seven months after my birth, i finally have had enough time to finish my birth story. #momlife pregnancy story here.
it was 6am on november 7th, and i lost my mucus plug. game on. (and gross, yes.)
with tilly, when this happened, i was at the hospital within hours. so, when it happened the second time around, i was ready. i was prepared. i had been waiting a whole week beyond my due date to meet this new baby girl.
and then… nothing happened.
i contacted my doula (shout out to mariah!), and she told me to rest. that labor would likely start within 24 hours. and so, i waited. i had a massage scheduled with a friend. she said she didn’t mind if my water broke on her table (ha), so i went and relaxed. maybe that would start labor.
and then, nothing happened.
the waiting is a cruel mindfuck that no one ever warns you about when you’re going to have a baby. you lack complete control. your mind spirals as you weigh all the choices. do you wait? do you induce? you poll all your mom friends and scour the internet for answers. you trust your intuition.
every little contraction feels like this could be the one… even the second time around. as an “experienced” pregnant woman, i figured i’d have some semblance of “been there, done that” to guide my knowledge, but nope. every baby is a new baby, and the body reacts differently.
since my mom was in town already to help with tilly, i took advantage and laid down for a nap. when i woke up, i decided to try the breast pumps again to stimulate labor. i pumped for about 15 minutes and then… contractions began! but were they real? or were they the same ones i’d been feeling for the last week? via text, my doula told me to wait and see if they lasted an hour and got stronger.
and indeed they did. get stronger and stronger and stronger. within an hour or so, i was having to bend over the kitchen counter, head down, and take a beat as the familiar tight squeeze rushed through me. i sat on the floor playing with tilly and soaking in the final minutes of her as my only child. she was ready, cowgirl boots and all.


and then my water broke. right there on the floor, next to my first daughter and her kinetic sand.
things were definitely happening.
my contractions were five or so minutes apart. ryan was still in town (30 mins away) at work. i called him from the toilet to tell him it was time but had to hang up as tilly was jumping on me and another wave of pain took over.
my doula arrived, and i decided it was time to go. contractions were three or four minutes apart and getting strong.


she would drive me to the hospital, and ryan could meet us there since he was already closer to the hospital than home. but then, since i had not called him back when i got distracted on the toilet, he magically arrived at home just as i was about to leave. my hero.
i hugged tilly goodbye and cherished this final moment as a family of three. never again would things in our household be the same.

grandma and her waved as we climbed into ryan’s big work truck and headed back to town. every bump and curve reminding me that this baby was finally ready to make her grand entrance very soon.
after checking in at 4:40pm and being escorted up to our room, i was checked by a nurse and told that i was already 9cm dilated. holy shit! she was on her way… and quick!
the contractions were painful, but my doula was there helping me through them with pressure to my hips and position changes. i let each wave of pain wash through me as i waited for the moment of rest on the other side of each contraction. i could do it this time…
with tilly, i had tried to give birth without an epidural but had tapped out around 6 or 7cm. but heck, i was already at 9cm! i could make it the whole way this time… have an unmedicated birth… feel everything the experience had to offer…
two hours of contractions later, my body naturally felt the urge to push. they called in the doctor to check on me, and she reported that i was only at 6cm.
what. the. actual. fuck!
now, i will never know if the first nurse (who was apparently a student) was totally wrong or if my cervix decided to regress in dilation (which is apparently a thing), but my mental willpower was shattered. i thought i was so close to 10cm and now, not so close at all. the pain was intense, and i decided to bow out gracefully.
at 7:20pm, they called in the magic epidural man, and within minutes, i was laughing and cracking jokes with ryan again. i could still move my legs slightly and feel the pressure of each contraction. i kept the epidural light, so i could feel as much as possible yet block the pain. drugs are crazy.

i will never have that unmedicated birth story so many boast about, but everything always unfolds as it should in the end… again with the intuition.
an hour or so of rest later, it was time. baby girl had labored down very far into my pelvis and was minutes from making her appearance. the doctor came in (who happened to be one of the ones i liked and had met once when pregnant with tilly, which was great since i had not really met any of the doctors in the hospital prior) and confirmed that it was time to push.
at 9:36pm, i put on the same snowboarding playlist “mountain magic” that i threw on in a rush when tilly was born. as it played on shuffle, we let the music roulette gods select our the baby’s birth song. would it be the 1986 classic push it by salt-n-pepa again?
i mean, we can’t that lucky twice, but there was, in retrospect, a shocking amount of baby and birth-appropriate references in the songs on the playlist…
“baby you’re a firework” (geez, i hope not.)
“baby i was born this way” (i hope so lady gaga!)
“don’t stop me now” (i mean pretty clear message, she’s coming now.)
“she’s a wild one” (oh faith hill, i hope this does not ring true…)
“rock me baby like a wagon wheel” (which played right when i was nursing for the first time.)
i prepped myself and tried to remember everything my pelvic floor physical therapist had taught me to try to mitigate worsening any damage to my pelvic floor from pushing out another baby.
a contraction came, and i beared down. first push.
crocodile rock by elton john echoed through the room. interesting choice music gods…
“i remember when rock was young…”
another contraction. second push.
and there was her head… covered in dark brown hair. so much hair, that the doctor made a mohawk with it as we waited for the next push.
baby girl was almost fully out, but the nurses had lost her heartbeat (or lost it on the monitor anyways), so now the doctor quickly pulled her out and in one swift movement unwrapped the umbilical cord loosely draped around her neck as our second baby girl started to cry.
she made her debut at 9:48pm on november 7th (the day my maternal grandfather passed) at a whopping 9lbs. 9oz. and 22in. long. covered in meconium just like her big sister.
“Laa, la-la-la-la-laa La-la-la-la-laa La-la-la-la-laa”
we did it. a week and a day late. but we did it. and now, for better or worse, nothing would ever be the same.
as i looked at the human i had just delivered earthside, that special connection between mother and baby brewed up inside of me. her tiny lips latched onto me for nourishment. her immense head of hair was soft beneath my fingers. her chunky limbs curled into my cradling arms. she was mine. and i was hers.


but who was she? what would her name be? what did she want to be called?
ryan and i had landed on two favorites: morgan (welsh origin and meaning sea-born, sea-song, or sea-circle) and adelaide (german origin and meaning noble natured).
at the beginning of the pregnancy, we were leaning towards morgan. but, by the end, we had switched to adelaide. but now, we needed to make a decision by the time we checked out of the hospital.
we relocated to another room and settled into caring for this new being. it is crazy how quickly you forget things… it had only been two years since we were in this same situation. feeding, dressing, swaddling, changing diapers for a newborn. you’d think we’d remember, but we definitely had to be reminded of a few things.
i rested. ryan got bored (of course). my body slowly recovered. my heart quickly grew.
baby girl had a reputation with the nurses on the floor. “the nine-pounder!” oh yes, i was glad i got that epidural after all.


and the little chunk with the full head of dark hair… she wasn’t an adelaide. she was a morgan. another daughter born to the sea on the island of maui.
but just in case… we named her: morgan adelaide grant.
on our final day in the hospital, my mom brought tilly to visit and meet her new baby sister. what a precious moment. of course, she had no idea how her life was about to change, but in that moment, she was so enthralled. so gentle. so kind.


and in that moment, everything was as it should be.
with one more night in the hospital, i savored the peace and quiet and support of the staff. and then, the morning of november 9th, we strapped morgan into her carseat and headed home to begin this next chapter as a family of four. with an infant and a two year old… heaven help us (and poor bowie).




