Late in the evening on March 3rd, 2018 I started feeling contractions that were too frequent to be Braxton Hicks contractions (not indicative of labor, think of them as practice contractions). My husband, Byron, called my OBGYN who told him that I should drink two bottles of water and take a shower to see if they stopped. I rolled my eyes at that and told him to start packing our bags and to call my sister to pick up Naomi. We had spent the entire day walking around the zoo and right before we left, my mucus plug appeared to come out entirely in the ladies room (think of it as a baby stopper…once it comes out it’s just a matter of time before the baby is next).

I knew that baby Noelle would be making her way into the world that night or early the next morning.

My doctor was phenomenal. I trusted her and knew what she would follow in my birth plan and what I could have to compromise on. It’s important to note here that based on my previous labor and delivery catastrophe, I opted to have a scheduled c-section. March 4th was a few days before I was scheduled. I mention those things to highlight the fact that I was so prepared to give birth this time. I was prayed up, ready to be flexible, and positive. What I was not prepared for, however, was labor itself.

I assumed that because I had a scheduled c-section and was in my 39th week of pregnancy that when I arrived at the hospital they would just go ahead and operate.

Boy, was I wrong.

First, Byron and I could not figure out where to park. It was after 10PM for sure when we got there and all of the normal entrances were closed. So for 20 minutes or so I’m struggling to remain calm as the contractions nearly jolted me out of my seatbelt. When we finally did park, it was a good 5 minute walk to get to the Emergency Room. I think I cried most of the way there. I thought there would’ve been a wheelchair or at least a person pretending to look for one walking around.

We filled out some paperwork and sat in the ER waiting area for what felt like an eternity. Then, praise God, someone brought me a wheelchair and we were briskly walked to a room. Did I forget to mention that Naomi was with us this entire time? I opted for Byron to tend more to her and less to me. My contractions continued to intensify. At some point my sister came to get Naomi and take her home for the night. I politely agreed to remain in bed unless I had to go to the bathroom – so that they could track Noelle’s heartbeat and measure my contractions.

After a few hours, I began to get concerned.

The hospital wouldn’t offer me any interventions (drugs) since I would be having a c-section anyway. I think they gave me a shot of something that was supposed to slow my contractions. It didn’t. Somehow no one spoke to my doctor or there was some mixup because of how late it was. A really tall man walked in our room and said “I’m the only black man in this building, I’m not the janitor, I’m going to be your doctor today.” Quite the entrance. I felt myself get nervous.

Not only was my amazing doctor not there, but now a man was going to deliver Noelle? I just prayed I didn’t do anything gross during the next few hours that I couldn’t control.

For some reason that totally went against my personality I wasn’t mad.

I didn’t demand to talk to my doctor, I felt peace. This hospital was weird though. They had a lot of signs everywhere about how not trip and/or fall. When it was time for us to go to surgery I was shocked when I found out I had to walk my contracting self all the way down the hall and pull myself up on a bed. Byron was being prepped for surgery and wasn’t allowed to come in until after I had gotten a spinal tap.

The anesthesiologists I had with Naomi were so quick and precise. I would have never expected to have to be pricked 6-7 times before this new guy found the right spot. He was insistent that I hunch my back, bringing my stomach in. All I could wonder was if he knew there was a 7 pound baby in there.

Shortly after that, incisions were made.

I wondered if I would actually see Noelle as soon as she was born, unlike my experience with Naomi. There was a wave of worry for just a few seconds until Byron tapped me, I looked up and there was our beautiful girl – Noelle Imani Morrison. The sight of her was nothing I could have imagined. My favorite photo of her is one most people might gag at. I’ll put it at the end of the post for those that are squeamish. They wiped her off, handed her to Byron, and he placed her right next to me. I wondered if she even knew who I was, but she snuggled so close to my face that I was assured she did.

This next part is actually hilarious.

Byron took Noelle to get her measurements as I was put back together. I was so exhausted from the zoo, labor, and lack of sleep that I drifted in and out of consciousness as they began to do whatever it was they had to do to fix me. The staff all thought I was asleep and talked about all kinds of personal things. The doctor spent a good amount of time lecturing them about his tools not being prepared properly.

Then, a bet took place. My last doctor had done a horrible job stitching me up and this guy was disgusted at her work. He bet the staff that he could repair it and make it look nearly flawless. My barely coherent mind got so excited because I didn’t consent to or ask for this, so I wouldn’t be paying for it! Let me say now that he won his bet. It looks remarkably better than it did before.

I don’t remember much of what happened next.

I know my mom and sister came to the hospital with Naomi in tow. She was excited and confused about how Noelle came to be. We were all happy and tired. Noelle wasn’t latching properly and every time she nursed it felt like I was on fire. I walked on my own much sooner after Naomi was born. This time walking was painful for weeks. Still, I felt I finally got the experience I wanted the first time. My fear of having more children melted away as Naomi asked to rock “her baby” to sleep every minute.

Little did we know that Noelle would be named “Christmas Faith” in early March for reasons we could have never imagined. We thought that her birth would always represent a cold winter season in our lives. Still, we loved the name and wanted to keep it.

Instead, it became a symbol of God’s power and grace.

He brought us to a place that feels like Christmas all the time. A place we could have never stepped foot in without taking the biggest faith leap of our lives. Noelle is cool, calm, and collected. She’s a happy toddler who rarely lets anything get her down. Naomi is her biggest cheerleader. Her birth changed our lives and nurtured our faith more than she could her realize.

Happy Birthday Noelle 💕

My second pregnancy was completely different than my first – read about Naomi’s birth story here.