Four years ago my sister had her first baby, Tayden.
Long story short, all 9 pounds of him made it out after 36+ hours of labor, 2.5 hours of pushing, and a dozen other complications that basically left my sister a wreck both physically and mentally.
I got to the hospital just after her early Tuesday where she was already 90% and a 5. (For those of you who don’t speak birth, her body had already done half the work of getting the baby out before she even changed into her gown.) Her epidural was set within a half hour and before an hour had even passed she mentioned to the nurse she was feeling a lot of pressure.
The nurse checked her and said “Oh. Well. That’s because there’s a baby down there trying to throw herself a birthday party.”
On came the lights, in came two nurses, a doctor and our mom and my sister was pushing within minutes.
Only this time instead of 150 minutes of pushing, she pushed for around 17.
And instead of her baby being rushed off with nurses to be attended to by a doctor, she was placed skin to skin and able to remain there for over an hour.
It was amazing.
It was everything she deserved.
I’m fairly certain she couldn’t believe that was all it took.
That’s really all there was to it.
Just like that I had a perfect little niece to call mine.
Her name is Jovie, her middle name is Kay after her grandpa that passed in December, and she shares a birthday with the best aunt that ever existed.
She also managed to come 21 hours before my flight departed SLC, so she’s already proven herself to be a punctual people pleaser.