This whole pregnancy was a wild ride for our little family! For starters, I found out I was pregnant while holding my 3-month-old. And while I love having my kids close, this just wasn’t quite in the plans I had for our life.

We already had three little boys—a 5-year-old, a 3-year-old, and, yep, a brand-new 3-month-old! But clearly God had other plans for our family, and we just had to roll with it.

I remember going to my first ultrasound at my OB’s office next door to The BirthHouse. Once we were finished, I walked outside, looked at my husband, and said, “I have to walk next door and see if anyone is there. They aren’t going to believe this.”

The door was locked, but I took a chance and knocked just in case they were inside catching up on chart notes, phone calls, or anything else. And, well, out pops Kira! She had just delivered my last baby, and we had become very close during that time. Emily was there too.

I walked in holding my 3-month-old. They looked surprised but happy to see me and asked if I had just come to visit and how we were doing.

I immediately threw up my ultrasound picture, burst into tears, and said, “Soooo… are y’all ready to do this again?!”

The excitement and love that erupted from their voices and faces brought me instant peace. I felt so calm and loved knowing these women were genuinely excited for me and my little family. I knew this journey would be just as good as the last.

Appointments this time around were easy, quick, and filled with lots of laughter, jokes, and personal connection. I mean, these women had finished their nine-month journey with me only three months ago! We were all very familiar with each other, and the trust and love I had for the women supporting me made me that much calmer throughout this pregnancy.

This pregnancy was odd, you could say. The time flew by, yet somehow dragged on forever. I was watching my newborn grow so fast, the months passing as he hit new milestones, all while I still felt like I had been pregnant for 600 years.

I was due at the end of May, and being that this would be my third May baby out of four kids, I was just happy it was the END of May. I wanted nowhere near May 6th because, believe it or not, my first and third sons already share that birthday! (And no, there are no anniversaries or birthdays in August. HA!)

I had all of my babies early, so I thought for sure my fourth would be no different. I gave myself until mid-May and, once again, God showed me that I was not in control of that whatsoever.

So there I was, 40 weeks and 1 day with no sign that labor was anywhere near. I wasn’t trying to rush labor, but with three kids, the May heat, and being “overdue,” you could say this mama was well OVER it.

But after having my first natural birth only a year ago, everything was still so fresh. I knew my body would provide and my baby would arrive when they were meant to.

I say they because, for the first time, we decided not to find out the gender of this baby, and I can without a doubt say it was the best decision.

As my due date approached, I remember feeling so defeated. I was tired and ready to meet my baby, but I tried to stay mentally strong so I could be in the right headspace whenever labor finally arrived.

Fun fact: My sister-in-law’s birthday is May 24th, so the family kept joking that the baby would come that day because all of my kids share a birthday with someone else in the family.

Well, May 24th started like any other Saturday. I did some laundry and picked up around the house. My kids wanted to blow up their water slide, and it was a beautiful day.

I joked about seeing a TikTok of women taking a quick sprint to induce labor, and my 5-year-old challenged me to a race. I knew it wasn’t going to put me into labor, but hey, why not give it a shot at this point?

It quickly reminded me that I was, in fact, nine months pregnant…oops.

In hindsight, something about that day felt slower, and with the chaos of three young kids in our house, nothing ever feels slow! Looking back, it was almost like my body was putting me into the right pace to begin labor and allowing me to soak in our final day as a family of five.

I remember telling my husband, “Everything feels so calm today,” and he agreed.

I’d had some occasional Braxton Hicks leading up to that day, and a few times that week I thought things might progress, but they never did. By this point, my photographer probably thought I was crazy. I wanted birth photos so badly this time that I was determined to give her PLENTY of notice in case things went quickly. I was in constant contact with her, but nothing had become progressive enough to alert my midwives.

Later that afternoon, my kids were still playing on their water slide when I told my husband I was going to 4:00 Mass just in case anything happened that night and I couldn’t make Sunday Mass.

I got to church early. It was the first time in a while I had gone without any kids, and I wanted to just sit in peace and pray.

Not more than a minute after I began praying, I had my first contraction.

My first reaction was honestly a giggle. I thought, How fitting that I would go into labor during Mass when this whole pregnancy I have been leaning on God to show me His way and trust His timing.

I laughed it off, told myself, “This isn’t real,” and continued praying.

I had a few more contractions here and there, but nothing felt consistent enough to time…that is, until Mass started. A few minutes in, I could feel them beginning to grow in intensity. They weren’t super painful, but they were enough to make me stop and take notice of each one.

I started timing them on my watch and prayerfully asked God to let me make it through Mass so I could be in the most peaceful state possible before bringing my child into the world.

And He honored that request.

After Mass, I got home, walked through the door, and made eye contact with my husband. Without me saying a word, he said, “I’ll get the kids’ dinner started. You go take a bath and get packed.”

Yep. Fourth kid. Despite the midwives encouraging me to prepare in advance, you don’t really pack until it’s time because, well, that’s life!

I called my photographer with an update but told her, “Honestly, it will probably fizzle out, so don’t stress. I’ll keep you updated.” She’s a friend of mine and was headed to a birthday dinner, and I told her to go because I really thought this might die out.

Even though my gut knew this was it, after nothing had progressed all week, I had gotten very good at convincing myself it wasn’t real yet.

I got in the tub to relax and get myself into the mindset for everything that was about to happen. I don’t think things were necessarily going slower than my previous birth; I think I was just more aware of everything this time because I had done it before.

I texted Midwife Jamie that contractions were happening and I was 99% sure this was it. (I don’t know what that other 1% of me was thinking!!) Given my history, we decided it was time for me to head in.

Fun fact: With my last birth, I had my first contraction around 7:00 p.m., and my baby was born at 9:24. So I really couldn’t give myself much time to play around this time!

We arrived at The BirthHouse around 10:00 p.m. I actually had time to get comfortable, set up in the room, and regather my thoughts after the car ride because this time, I wasn’t walking through the door in transition!

Things were definitely starting to intensify. I climbed into the tub, and the warm water brought instant relief. My mom arrived shortly after and began pouring warm water over my back while my husband rubbed my shoulders and back and supported me however I needed.

He will still say to this day that both times he didn’t feel like he did much, but the truth is, my husband offered so much support, and it was exactly what I needed.

Everything about this birth felt calmer. I felt more in control of my body than I had the last time. As the contractions grew more intense, they absolutely took my breath away.

And my photographer still wasn’t there.

Remember, I had told her not to worry because I was certain this was another false alarm.

Instant panic.

I remember telling my mom, “You’ve got to text her and see where she’s at because this baby is coming soon!”

Every ounce of my body wanted to fight the pain, but I kept trying to breathe through it. I knew at this point that I was in transition. As Midwife Jamie talked me through staying calm, she reaffirmed what I already knew: I was transitioning. This was it.

By the grace of God, and no Lafayette traffic—thank you, nighttime births!—in walked my photographer. It was like my body screamed, YES. Now we can have this baby!

After about three more contractions in the tub, my water broke. And for me, when my water breaks, that means BABY IS COMING OUT.

I instantly felt the surges get stronger. I couldn’t be silent anymore. The roars and screams were coming!

Then I got a hot flash, climbed out of the tub, and stood in the exact same spot where I had stood just 12 short months earlier.

Three, maybe four pushes later, my baby was here.

Calmness fell over the room. My body instantly relaxed, and I sank to the floor.

Wrapped up in a cuddly towel, we headed to the bed and sat down together. We leaned back, unwrapped that towel, and finally saw the sweet baby we had waited nine months to meet.

Our baby was, in fact, a…

BOY!

Another handsome, perfect baby boy.

Peter Matthew, weighing a whopping 8 lbs. 14 oz., became the perfect addition to our family.