A Wedding and A Baby…In One Night?
This post is inspired by a series of back to back events by two amazing women in my life.
They each are unique individuals with their own inspiring stories, and while the intricate details of their stories are not mine to share, I do feel inspired to share my perspective of standing witness to both of their life miracles back to back.
Late Spring 2024
Gentle rain blurred the windows of the chic suite that welcomed the bride-to-be, eager to start her pampering and preparations for the day she had anticipated for so long. She exuded essence of both peace and joy, pleasantly relaxed in the beautician chair, taking in the details of the gorgeous cottage surrounding her. Her closest confidantes buzzed about, tending to last minute details and ensuring everything was just-so as the morning proceeded. The setting certainly encouraged joy and peace to come from each attendant, too, and even more so because we all deeply appreciated that the day had arrived: the celebration of something that was clearly always meant to be.
Most weddings are an incredibly intimate and special celebration, but the depth of appreciation as a witness runs incredibly deep when you know the whole story.
The layers of a story built of giddy excitement, of swooning, of growing and learning, of loving, and even of trial, of loss, and of heartbreak, ultimately culminating in a ceremony of unity that is steadfast, sure to endure.
The intricacies my friend’s woven story are what built the excitement as the wedding day commenced, the photos were taken, the isle is walked, and the commitment secured. That is what I cherished celebrating the most on my best friend’s wedding day: the culmination of an intentional pursuit, a growing of love, and the knowing in my heart that the bride and groom’s promises to one another were pure and true.
I considered it a great blessing to see the one I’ve held through many poignant life moments, now held securely in mind, body, and soul by her groom. As the night went on, I caught myself observing the way the bride and groom interacted with each other and with their family. I remember noting that it was hard to think of her life before him, because together, they are just right.
After an energetic sparkler send-off, it was time to journey home. Right after I hopped into my car, lightening picked up frequency in the sky, and I remember appreciating the intensity of it (while also hoping I wasn’t going to be traversing forward in a full-blown down pour). About 30 minutes into my drive, my phone chimed.
It was the midwife.
The message read, “ __ __’s waters just opened. I’m going to head there shortly. Where are you?”
She knew I was away for a wedding, but had planned on returning at some point within the weekend. She also knew that I really wanted to do nearly anything possible to make it to my friend’s, her client’s, labor and delivery. I’m so grateful my plans had aligned in a way that made driving home that evening the most practical choice.
“I’m on my way back, I can head straight there!” I replied.
Knowing my friend’s history of quick labors, I was doubtful that I would make it, but I was very hopeful to try.
About another half hour into the drive the midwife dings, “Things are picking up, how far do you have left to go? She thinks you will make it, but I’m not so sure.”
“33 minutes,” I replied. “I know things are probably pretty intense, but if you want to add some comic relief, tell mama that I’ll be arriving in my bridesmaid dress!”
At this point, I tried really hard not to speed, while simultaneously calculating in my head the likelihood of getting pulled over on back country roads at 11pm. With the energy of the heat lightning above me, and my emphatic audible prayers to “Please, God, let me make it!” I arrived at my friend’s home and sprinted through the front door.
I was immediately greeted by the midwife, with a big hug, and we giggled at my birth attendant attire. “ ‘Kayla, birth assistant, arrives in formal wear’ is going in the chart!” She said, as we headed up the stairs to check on mama.
My friend and her husband, a powerful labor couple, greeted me between the focused work of contractions. We, too, giggled about the dress, and I asked if I had time to change. After the fastest change of my life, I hopped into action, cognizant to adjust my energy to that of joy and peace, rather than rush. Attending a birth at home is much less about “working” and much more like “witnessing.” I observed, and charted the intricate details of the birth story unfolding before me, and I also took time to appreciate the fact that I knew this couple’s story: a story with layers of giddy excitement, of swooning, of growing and learning, of loving, and even of trial, of loss, and of heartbreak, ultimately culminating in labor and delivery of their sweet baby.
Only a few minutes passed before baby made his grand entrance, and we all got to celebrate his long-awaited arrival. I considered it a great blessing to see the one I’ve held through poignant life moments, now held securely by her husband, hugging her son into her chest. I’ll never forget her smile of pure joy as she gazed into the eyes of her baby.
As the night went on, I caught myself observing the way this mother and father interacted with each other cozied up, swooning over their son. I remember noting that it was hard to think that birth happens any other way than supported, honored, and revered with joy.
These factors together, no matter the timing, the location, or the circumstances make any birth attendant smile with the deep satisfaction that this is how it’s meant to be, that a mother supported, honored, and revered is just right.
Here for you,
