How Our Sixth Son Ended Up Being a Girl

 I had a feeling our sixth baby might be our last. I’ve always wanted to wait until the birth to find out the gender but my husband was never on board. Finally, with this pregnancy, I told him, “If you don’t let me wait to find out the gender, I’m going to just keep wanting another one.” That seemed to do the trick; my husband agreed then and there to wait to find out! 

After a disastrous first appointment in town with a midwife group who worked through a hospital, I decided I wanted to have this baby with a midwife here at our home. I’m so glad I did. It was nice having Angie, our midwife, come to me and for my boys to get to see each of our visits, so I was happy with the change in direction. 

As my bump grew, we became more and more excited, not for the possibility of having a girl, but that we would be adding another fun sibling to the family. In fact, we were just sure we were having a boy! The entire pregnancy, we called the baby a “he”. After having five sons, Stephen Sr. and I figured it was virtually impossible for us to make anything else, and I was totally okay with that! I even went out and bought a lot of “gender-neutral” clothes for the baby that really were just toned down boy clothes. 

As we made our way into February, the month our baby was due, time seemed to slow down. To make matters worse, I ended up going past my due date, which happened to be our fourth son, Levi’s, b-day -- 2/5. Though I was strangely feeling better than ever physically (In my eighth month, I decided to add speed walking to my exercise routine. It really helped with my varicose veins, and it eliminated my achy joint pains that I always get near the end of my pregnancies -- so speed walking for the win!). But, mentally, I was a wreck. I was moody and snapping at my kids. My emotions have always been my weak point. 

Finally, on the morning of February 10th, I awoke with painful, period-like cramping at six am. I had hoped this was the beginning of labor, and as the day continued, so did the cramping. Every 20-30 mins, I would experience these period-like cramps. 

February 10th also happens to be our fifth son Aaron’s birthday. Still, knowing my labors are long and I was probably in early labor, I decided to go about the day as we had planned: taking our boys to the skate park, taking my oldest to school, and then going to the store to get cupcakes for Aaron’s bday party that would be later that night, all the while breathing through the contractions that were coming every 20-15 mins apart now. 

By five o’clock, an hour before the party, I had no doubts as to whether the baby was coming; this wasn’t false labor pains as I had feared -- I was in labor. But, I never have short labors. Each stage (there are three stages) usually lasts hours and hours, so I told my husband to go forward with Aaron’s bday party which was to be held at Chick-Fil-A from 6-8.

With strong(ish) contractions coming every ten minutes apart at that point, I put on one of my favorite movies (Dear John) and laid down, taking breaks from watching to breathe through the contractions that were becoming stronger but still ten mins apart. 

When Stephen Sr. came home at 8, I felt myself get the peace, strength, and courage I needed to get up and walk around, something that always helps my contractions pick up and progress. I expected to have about 12 more hours of active labor, per my norm. What I didn’t expect was for active labor to only take one hour and then move into transitional labor and to have my baby only two and a half hours later at 10:34 that night. 

I was in such denial that I could possibly have such short active and transitional phases of labor, that I kept putting off calling the midwife, and she ended up getting there only five minutes before the baby was born. I was actually texting friends about campsite reservations and updating them on contractions clear up until 9:30 that night!

I will say, I was a total champ through every part of labor except the pushing. Then, I completely lost it. I called out “Jesus, help me!” over and over like an idiot and cried that I didn’t want to do it anymore. I just wasn’t ready to push at all. Mentally, I thought I had until morning. Looking back, I’m so glad the hardest stages of labor were only two hours rather than my usual 12-16, but it just was so unexpected, and I’d been laboring since 6 am. I just mentally lost it. 

I kinda wish I had called Angie an hour earlier so she would have seen me handling the transition stage of labor (super difficult and painful stage) like a boss. But, no, all she gets to see is me crying and calling out to Jesus for help. To make matters worse, after I pushed out the baby’s head, I just gave up. See, I had an epidural with my last baby, and I remembered that once the head was out, the Dr. did some fancy maneuver and the rest of the body just flopped out. I kept waiting for my midwife to do the magic trick and for the body to come out without me pushing, and she assured me that I did indeed have to push. I didn’t want to push, I cried. And, after asking if the baby was okay with its head out like that, I decided to just give up. So there my baby sat, with its head out, body in as I waited for it to magically come out on its own. 

Finally, after a few minutes, I gathered my strength and pushed the baby out. All in all, I only pushed for less than ten minutes, but the head was out for half of that time. 

Since the labor progressed so quickly, we didn’t get the birthing pool filled in time, so I had her on the same yoga mat that I birthed my son Levi on (another long story). I was crouched down on all fours like a crazy woman when I pushed her out, and the midwife caught her from behind me. So there I was, looking between my legs to see my baby in order to get a peek at the gender. In that funny angle, I peered past the umbilical cord and could clearly see a white, wrinkly penis staring back at me. 

“It’s a boy!” I cried out. “I see a penis!” 

My husband said, “Are you sure?”

My forehead creased. I looked again... Yes, I was sure -- I was looking at a penis!

Turned out, the baby’s foot was tucked up beneath her bottom and what I was looking at was her big toe!

With his voice thick with emotion, my husband lovingly said, “We have a daughter, babe. It’s a girl.” 

I was so completely surprised. I hadn’t even for a second truly thought that we could have a girl. It just seemed so impossible. I was overjoyed! It would be another hour before I could hold and enjoy her though. Unfortunately, my iron had been low throughout my pregnancy, and losing the blood you naturally do at birth was too much for my body to handle. So I ended up going into shock after delivering the placenta. My midwife was a champ, she had me lay down on the floor with my legs raised and I had to drink Gatorade through a straw until my BP raised enough. 

Finally, after an hour laying on the hard floor, I was strong and stable enough to crawl to a couch where I got to nurse my DAUGHTER for the first time. It was there that I finally got a little prompting about her name. I had prayed and received promptings about all of the boys’ names except Avery’s (we changed his a from Ezra to Avery a few hours before he was born). I always got answers when I prayed about what to name my children. But I wasn’t feeling anything about this sixth baby. I hoped that once we knew the gender (as if it was anything but a boy, I had thought), that maybe I would get a little prompting to help name this child as well. So it was so so sweet that as I held her, nursing her, finally stable enough to enjoy my daughter, that the thought “Elise” slipped into my mind. I tucked that thought away. Elise...it was a pretty name...

Later on the next day, I began to research the name Elise on my phone. My husband loved the name Elizabeth, but I wasn’t sold on it. Turns out “Elise” is the French derivative of Elizabeth, so that was so neat to find out. But I knew Elise wasn’t quite it. From there, I was able to play and toy with names until her name came clear and undeniable -- she was Annalise Bell. It was perfect. 

Kinda long story, but that’s the story of how our little girl came into our family. She has already been such a blessing. I never feel truly connected as a mother to my babies while they’re in utero. So I was nervous I wouldn’t be connected to my sixth once it was born, especially if it was a girl as I had never experienced being a mother to a girl. But I can say, I am totally and fully in love and feel connected and motherly towards my daughter. She is perfect in every way, and I look forward to being her mother and doing my best to nurture and raise her throughout her life. I only have one rule -- NO going on The Bachelor when she turns 18 or anytime afterwards!!