Our sweet, little Eveny - words fail to describe how happy we are that you are here! This year the world has been filled with so much darkness and difficulty; we absolutely needed the warmth and brightness you have brought to us.

I can hardly stand to do anything but hold you and breathe you in. All that newborn magic and innocence and purity and light has filled my soul. You have been such a good baby and just so easy to love!

However.

Getting you here was not all sunshine and rainbows.

- - -

From the very beginnings of our marriage, Ammon and I have always said we wanted to have five children. Of course, once we started having them we realized more and more just what it means to bring and support a life in this world. And it is no small endeavor.

Deciding to have babies numbers one through three was hardly a decision at all. But between being outnumbered and embarking on an educational path hundreds of miles away from family - deciding on number four was hard. But, oh, how we love Raubyn! And just know she is meant to be with us at just the time she came.

Deciding on having a number five? It was the hardest. Living so far away from support, living in a less-conservative and less-understanding community, living on student loans, living through Ammon's most demanding year of school ever - well, it all weighed on our minds. But stopping at four children? Well, that weighed on our hearts. And it didn't feel right. So at the end of December we decided to just move forward in faith. Trusting that the same God that paved a way for every baby beforehand, would do so again.

By the end of February we had a positive pregnancy test.

Knowing just how miserable and debilitating pregnancy can be for me, I went into hyper drive trying to prepare as much as I could.

Like making FIFTY freezer meals.

Or making preparations for Ammely's baptism in May.

Only a couple of weeks went by though before it was already mid-March and misery set in. And not just for me.

Covid-19 was beginning its spread here in the USA. Freezer meals were a real blessing as grocery store shelves emptied out. Schools shut down for Spring Break early and (though we didn't know it at the time) wouldn't open up again All. Year. Long. (At least here in Oregon). Church moved to entirely at-home learning (making Ammely's baptismal plans perpetually delayed). Really, most everything closed down, including playgrounds, and our family went into tv-watching, video-game playing, survival-mode while Ammon tried to finish out his second year of Optometry school amid ever-changing guidelines, and I tried just to make it through the day without vomiting up my actual stomach.

We experienced quite a few unusual things while little Baby #5 grew.

Like going to my OBGYN appointments completely alone (Ammon never did meet my doctor).

Or just not being able to get in-person medical care when you normally would.

Poor Clark tripped and fell and landed on his face. Just a few days into the pandemic. We were only able to get advice from the dentist over the phone. By some miracle both teeth are still hanging in there, but both are loose. They probably won't hang in there for the couple of years more they normally would.

Or getting used to wearing masks everywhere you go.

*BIG* 'thank you!' to Aunt Amber for sending us cute masks that actually fit our faces!

Or trying something new and cutting your own hair.

Because when you're not going to see anybody anyways, why not?

Ammon tried out a completely buzzed head! I actually liked it. He didn't.

We gave Lynnden bangs!

Or entertaining our guests through the window.

Or doing school and church (and everything) online.

Lynnden's sad eyes are due to the fact that missed her class meeting that morning and she didn't get to show her class her picture. We took a picture of the picture to send to her teacher.

Or saying "to heck with that" with online school and delving into the world of homeschool.

One upside to homeschool - we can do school anywhere!

Sampling some Egyptian snacks.

It has definitely been a year of the unexpected.

Speaking of which - did I mention the time we found out we were having a GIRL?

We thought for sure this baby was a boy. For sure.

We were wrong.

Per usual, we found in the sweetest way possible: cupcakes!

Big shout out to Natalie Lyman for being willing to make gender-reveal cupcakes for us! These turned out fabulously!

We were SO nervous to find out what was in that cupcake - mostly because we are 99% sure this is our last baby. So whatever was revealed would be IT. Forever. No more additions.

It took us a WHILE to wrap our heads around ANOTHER girl. We were dumbfounded. Not sad. But surprised. And we always questioned it a *little bit* because my ultrasound tech really, REALLY struggled to get the gender shot. She did not seem confident at all. So right up until she was born there was a tiny part of us that wondered "but what if it's a boy?"

But after a few days of settling into the news we were head over heels for this incoming little girl. Or is it heels over head? Look at those acrobatics!

And that following weekend we recruited cupcake deliverers for our parents because it was Father's Day! SO MUCH FUN to see everybody's reactions! And a big thank you to Belle and Sierra for making this happen while we were so far away!

The next order of business was deciding on a name.

This was a struggle. It is hard to name a child.

We spent hours combing our family tree, and baby name sites, and googling meanings that we liked.

We sent out pleas for our ideas to some of our family and friends.

Eventually we had a list of names to consider but one really stuck and felt right.

Finally, after months and months of enduring growing pains (in the world and in my belly), October finally arrived.

October

36 weeks

At my 36 week appointment on October 1st, I was dilated to 2 cm and Dr. Johnson confirmed that baby was head down. Everything else seemed nice and normal and we talked about scheduling an induction date that fell somewhere between 39 and 41 weeks. I told Dr. Johnson that I'd really like to schedule closer to the 39 week mark - that way I'd be able to get the most out of the time my mom would be here to help, I'd be less likely to have to surprise-dump all four of my children on someone else, and it would make the smallest impact on Ammon's schooling. Dr. Johnson seemed perfectly okay with all of that and said we'd call the hospital to schedule one week ahead of whichever date we decided on.

37 weeks

My 37 week appointment was done virtually. So no more news on dilation/effacement. (The nurse made a joke about that when she called ahead of my appointment to check me in. "There won't be a cervix check today, we just haven't quite figured out how to do that virtually yet." Hahaha.

However, Dr. Johnson thought we might be able to schedule my induction closer to two weeks out than one week and said he'd have his staff call the hospital that Friday to try to schedule me. So that was happy news.

38 weeks

The staff did successfully schedule my induction the previous week, so I was all set to be induced on Friday, October 23rd at 6:00 a.m.

This appointment was my only in-person appointment with a different doctor than Dr. Johnson. This week I saw Dr. Wentross, who also happened to be the only female OBGYN I've ever seen. Ever. She asked if I'd like to have my cervix checked again and I said yes. She seemed surprised to find that I was 3 cm and about 60% effaced. She also said the baby's station was about a -2 (apparently meaning baby was headed in the downward direction, and not super floaty - a good thing!)

39 weeks

My 39 week appointment was just a couple days ahead of my induction date.

Dr. Johnson said I was still about a 3 cm and was somewhere between 65 and 70% effaced. I'd been hoping to be at a 4 cm - it seems like that 4 cm is a magic number for me and labor seems to go lots faster after I hit that number. But I also was not eager to go into labor before my mom arrived so all in all it seemed like good news.

The Last Day

Thursday, October 22nd finally arrived - my last day of being pregnant, arguably ever.

I fought my mom hard on taking this picture. I felt so blagh. But I'm already glad she took it. I'll probably never be preggers again! And I always wanted to wear maternity overalls when I was young - I'm glad I got a picture in them!

And this was to be the first day we would get to see my mom since the previous December! It had been so, SO long and we were so, SO happy to be ending my "high-risk" status in this COVID world we are living in.

We filled this day with last minute preparations.

We tried to pick up a rental car to take to the hospital (since we are a one-car family right now, and we would be leaving our SUV with my mom and the kiddos) - but there wasn't anybody there to check us out (*weird*)...so we left without one.

We dropped off Ammon at Clinic.

We picked up a grocery order to restock the pantry for our absence.

We did some cleaning.

We showed mom how to do all of the things in terms of childcare and housesitting.

You don't realize how much you do until you have to make sure someone else can do it too!

It didn't take long for the day to wear away and soon enough we were all ready for bed and ready for my favorite pre-baby tradition: blessings from Daddy.

Each one of our kiddos got a priesthood blessing from Ammon. Each so sweet and individualized. I truly feel like these make all the difference in preparing our kids to transition and love another little person in our family.

And last of all it was my turn for a blessing.

Every word was inspired. And honored. And I marvel at it now as I look at it with my 20/20 hindsight.

For the last several pregnancies, I've wanted to have a more natural birth experience. If insurance had ever covered it, I would have loved to have tried a water birth at home. For reasons I couldn't even explain, I wanted to try birthing without an epidural. But I always end up being induced. And no epidural combined with Pitocin is AWFUL. I tried with Clark. And it was so awful that I was too scared to try going natural on any level with Raubyn.

But it sat there on my heart. For years. I read so many birth stories from other women. And gained a greater understanding of the process and the strength of women and the spiritual nature of childbirth. And I was never sure that even if the perfect opportunity arrived, that I'd be capable of enduring it. But still, I'd pray timid prayers that IF it were possible and IF it were right that I MIGHT have the opportunity to TRY. Providing every opportunity for a "no" to be the answer and not quite willing to ask for the experience because I wasn't quite sure I wanted it.

And I knew for sure that I was NOT willing to try if I was being induced.

And as Ammon spoke during my blessing he spoke about working with the healthcare professionals, about listening to them and trusting the decisions that we would come to together, about being strong enough and designed to do the things that would happen, about raising our children. I tucked away each thought he spoke into my heart and continued on with my timid prayers throughout the night.

Friday, October 23, 2020 - BABY DAY

4:00 a.m. - The Beginning

We got up at 4:00 am. the next morning so that we would be ready to go and able to call the hospital at 5:00. We were disappointed to have them postpone us from 6:00 to 7:30 but grateful it wasn't a bigger delay (we've been delayed for days in the past). In that window we got everybody up and dressed and into the car. We were about to leave right on time when our back door latch decided to stop working. Ammon spent only about ten minutes figuring out a work-around before we were off, but it sure made me grumpy to be late when we'd already been up for three hours. *sigh*

We enjoyed the sunrise view of Mt. Hood on the way to the hospital and Ammon gratefully commented on the lack of fog, a definite answer to his prayers.

We uneventfully arrived to the Providence St Vincent hospital and handed over the steering wheel and our four kids to my mother.

8:00 a.m. - Check-In

By about 8:00 a.m. we were being admitted in our room (Room 321) and going through all the medical history, and getting an IV placed, and vitals checked, etc.

The only negative thing I'd have to say about this nurse is that she struggled to get my IV placed. It ended up having to go into the top of my hand instead of my arm. It fluctuated between uncomfortable and painful the entire time it was in.

On the plus side, she decided to use a belly band to attach the different monitors to my belly. It was SO MUCH MORE comfortable than the typical straps they use. It made such a big difference in my comfort level.

They also informed me that Dr. Wentross was the OBGYN on-call that day (the female OB I had met once or twice throughout my pregnancy). I was relieved that it was at least a doctor I had met before. However, they said I'd probably mostly deal with the mid-wife on-call. I knew this was a possibility ahead of time and wasn't sure what I would think, but I felt very calm and okay with that.

We discussed epidural timing with the nurse. She said I could have it any time that I wanted and that she recommended doing it sooner than later in the process if that is what I wanted. I knew I wanted an epidural since I knew I was going to be getting on Pitocin soon. This was comforting news to me.

Then I met the mid-wife.

She checked me and said I was dilated to about a 4 (hooray!) and still 65-70% effaced - and then she discussed my induction options with me.

This surprised me. Options?

With all of my other babies I had been checked in, started pitocin, later the water was broken, then eventually I got an epidural and lastly it was delivery time. I didn't really know there could be another order of events.

She said we could start with Pitocin.

Or she could break my water and see if my body would catch the signal and start going into labor "on its own" at that point. Potentially skip Pitocin altogether.

No Pitocin? Potentially an opportunity for no epidural? Hmmmm.

Or we could do both - start me on Pitocin and break my water.

She recommended starting slow with breaking the water and seeing how things went but truly made me feel like the decision was mine to make and that she was 100% on board with whatever I wanted to do.

This was also my first pregnancy testing positive for GBS and so one of the first orders of business was getting a round of antibiotics into my system. Ideally they like to have the antibiotics in for at least 4 hours before a delivery -and they will continue to give a new round of antibiotics every 4 hours until baby arrives.

I was a little nervous that I wouldn't make it to that first four hours because with my last baby, once they actually induced me it was only a couple of hours until baby arrived.

So because I was worried about getting enough hours of antibiotics, I decided to follow her advice and start "slow" with breaking the water.

9:10 a.m.- Started Antibiotics & Epidural Debate

At 9:10 a.m. we had antibiotics flowing into my system and they expected that round to take about an hour or so to get into my system.

They would wait to break my water until that point.

So it was just an hour of waiting. And going back and forth on whether or not we should start Pitocin. And if/when to get an epidural.

The nurse said if I wanted an epidural, she'd recommend asking to get one before they broke my water, because often times labor picks up quickly at that point.

And I knew that in my past pregnancies that had been true. But in my past pregnancies I was already on Pitocin before my water broke.

I didn't really want to get an epidural before getting Pitocin.

But I also didn't want to miss my window to get an epidural if I chickened out.

Back and forth we discussed it. Never really deciding.

10:25 a.m. - Water Broken

After the first round of antibiotics was in my system, the mid-wife came back in and verified I still wanted to proceed with breaking the water first and holding off on Pitocin.

She broke my water, which was quite uncomfortable. And nerve-racking. No going back now.

Because I was not on Pitocin, the nurse was able to detach me from all the things and I was a free-bird. They even said I could eat and really encouraged us to order some lunch when the time came. I didn't want to eat though because I thought things would go quickly.

I spent quite a bit of time on the birth-ball. I made several trips to the bathroom in an effort to empty out my body pre-birthing.

But not a lot happened.

I would get a very mild contraction about once every 10 to 15 minutes. Nothing to write home about.

And eventually, I was hungry. So I ordered some lunch.

And we did several laps around the hallways of the laboring wing of the hospital.

.But still nothing.

1:05 p.m. - Round 2 of Antibiotics

Once the 4-hour mark hit, I had to get hooked back up to things so that I could get a second dose of antibiotics.

And having the comfort of knowing I had the antibiotics in for as long as they needed to be, I was now starting to feel impatient.

The nurse and mid-wife agreed that my body didn't seem to be picking up labor progress on it's own.

So we decided to start Pitocin.

This ignited some anxiety in me (should I get an epidural now? I just didn't know if and when I would want one!).

We asked if it was possible to have just a little Pitocin. And would it be possible to come off the Pitocin entirely once labor started progressing?

The nurse reassured us that there were many levels of dosing with Pitocin. That we would start small and go as slowly with increases as we wanted. She told us that just recently she'd had a patient that had been at a dosing of 20 and they had to scale it all the way back to 4 because labor was progressing so strongly and quickly.

So taking that information and trusting that there was some control we had to this process, I decided to hold off on an epidural for now. Maybe I wouldn't need much Pitocin for very long. Maybe I could get off the Pitocin quickly and go through with an epidural-free experience.

2:28 p.m. - Started Pitocin at a 2

The nursing started me at a dosing level of 2 (I'm not a nurse so I don't know what that 2 means, sorry!).

Typically they monitor progress and up the dosing every 30 minutes.

3:00 - Increase Pitocin to a 4

At 3:00 the nurse came in and asked how I would rate my pain during contractions. I told her they were still only about a "two" on my pain scale. Just a bit uncomfortable. Contractions were still not very regular, but coming more frequently. She reminded me that if I decided I wanted an epidural, they would need a full twenty minutes to run fluids through my body before I could get it. To keep that in mind.

Then she upped my dosing to a 4.

I remember thinking I probably had a ways to go because the other patient she had mentioned had come down to a four from a twenty, and I was just now getting up to a four.

Very quickly my contractions came more regularly. And more painfully. I got off the bed and began to do the labor dance with Ammon: standing in front of him, my head on his chest, my hands on his arms, breathing and swaying through the contractions.

3:30 - Reduce Pitocin

By 3:20 I was in a lot of pain during contractions. I knew for sure that I did not want to increase Pitocin at the next 30 minute mark. Ammon was still asking if I wanted to get an epidural or not. I still was not sure but honestly felt like I had probably already missed my window. If things had gotten this bad in the past twenty minutes, I really didn't think I'd want to deal with the epidural process in twenty minutes from now - and I didn't want to end up getting an epidural at the end of the process like I had with Clark. I knew that would only disappoint me and I would feel like I had been so close to doing it, but had given up. So when Ammon would ask I would just say "I don't know" and kind of ignore him. Poor guy. He probably really wanted me to say yes right about then.

When the nurse came in, I couldn't really even have a conversation and was in a lot of pain. I asked Ammon to turn down the Pitocin or turn it off. He told the nurse that I was having contractions every minute and a half or so and asked if we could turn the Pitocin down.

She watched me through a few contractions and then did turn the Pitocin down to a 3.

It was about this time that a lot of the blessing from the night before came back to me. I remembered being reassured that my body was designed for this and that I was strong enough. That by trusting the decisions we came to with our healthcare team, things would be okay. I clung to and rehearsed those memories as the pain got worse and I hadn't decided on an epidural.

Lost Track of Time

Things were getting so intense we were no longer looking at the clock. I wanted to get more comfortable (doesn't that sound silly?) and I felt tired of standing. So I got up on the bed and began laboring on my hands and knees. I remembered how awful it felt to sit during Clark's labor and so I didn't want to sit or lay on my back, even though I was feeling tired.

I lost all sense of what was happening around me at this point. I don't know who came in or out of the room. I didn't make eye-contact with anyone from this point on. I could hardly speak.

I would just moan and wail through each contraction. And I would get so hot during contractions. And nauseous. I had kind of expected this because it had happened during Clark's labor.

Ammon must have felt more prepared for this too. I asked for a cool rag and he took that job on very seriously and very well. He eventually even moved to doing two rags. He'd put one on my forehead for me during my contractions, and then eventually added one to my back. When the contraction would come down he'd quickly run to the sink and get it wet and cool again and be back just in time to help me through the next contraction. At some point I pretty much ripped off my whole hospital gown because I was so hot and sweaty and uncomfortable in it - it was just hanging around my neck for the rest of the birth.

At some point they reduced the Pitocin to a 2.

My pain continued to worsen and I remember asking (begging?) to turn it off. They eventually did. Which also meant they were able to unhook me from some of the tubing I was connected to.

The mid-wife came in at some point to check my progress and I asked her if she would do a cervix check.

I was desperately fighting a mental battle with myself and trying not to fall into complete despair. I kept reminding myself how my blessing had spoken of raising my children and so I was confident this experience wouldn't actually kill me. But it felt like it was trying. And I needed to hear that the end was close. I hoped to be told that I was at a 10 and ready to push. And I told myself if I was at anything less than a 9 then it was time for despair. That I'd need the epidural. Or some other magical way out of this. Or an undo button. Or something.

She needed me to lay down in order to check my cervix and so they helped me into a side-lay.

It was AWFUL. I was terrified of getting through a contraction while laying down, or while she was checking me.

Thankfully she was relatively quick. And I tried to get back up onto my knees even quicker. But I felt like I missed my "break" - that very brief, very slight pause of relief between contractions and was mentally frazzled by that.

I heard her reporting while I flipped myself back over. I was a 9.5 with a bit of cervix left to efface.

I didn't know what to make of that. It wasn't less than a 9. But it also wasn't ready to go. I don't know if she could sense my flailing sense of confidence and ability - but she quickly assured me that I was very close. That I would probably feel the need to push really soon. That I could do this. That helped me but I wasn't sure that she was right. Maybe she's just telling me positive things. Maybe they're not true. Maybe I have a long time to go. I can't go for a long time. Then I heard her tell the nurse to let somebody know that she was going to stay here. And I that is when I knew that I really was getting close. She wouldn't stay if she thought things were going to take a while.

By now my screaming took on a whole new level. However bad it was with Clark's labor; however, miserable I'd been up to this point; it was nothing to what started to happen now.

Ammon later described my screaming as something you might imagine hearing if someone was being tortured by pulling off their fingernails.

I have never screamed that way before. I hope to never do it again. I worried at times that I wouldn't have enough breath to sustain my scream - and I needed to scream. There was absolutely no way to endure these contractions except to use all of my air and my energy and my thought power to try to scream bigger than my pain was. My throat was sore for days after.

Bear Into It

What felt like a long time went by (but it probably wasn't) and the midwife told me that if I felt the need to push, to do it. To not be afraid of the pain or the contractions or the need - to just bear into it.

I didn't listen at first. I wasn't sure what I was feeling.

Do I feel the need to push? Not really. I feel the need to have this end. Is that the same thing?

She repeated herself again. "Don't be afraid of it. Bear into it."

I decided it couldn't be worse to try pushing.

So with the next contraction, I did what she said. As I felt the contraction start and the need to scream (in pain? in terror? in dread?) I pushed away the fear, and pushed away the urge to drown the contraction in my screams, and instead began to push in earnest. "Bear into it" was the only thing I would let into my mind.

As my focus changed, my screams changed drastically. From high-pitched and terrified, to low, earthy, grunty, and focused.

A few of those pushes and I could feel the baby crowning. At some point I heard somebody say, "There's the head."

Not surprisingly, having someone's head emerging from your body is very uncomfortable and very painful. I endured another contraction with baby's head out. Then somebody said something like, "We're just trying to figure out which way this baby is going."

What in the world is THAT supposed to mean? OUT! The baby is going OUT, I thought to myself.

This might be a good time to remind you that I was on my hands and knees still. So not your average birthing position. The nurses were trying to figure out which direction the baby would turn, as all babies do when their shoulders/bodies come out.

But I could not fathom why that would take so much time as a whole "extra" contraction to figure out.

Another contraction came and I assume they figured it out and the shoulders somehow made room for themselves. This was surprising to me.

And in my mind, once the shoulder emerged the baby just "slipped" out and it would all be over quickly. That's what my perception of the experience had been with my previous four epidural births.

So even though this was the most painful, awful, exhausting position of my entire life, I took some comfort that it was just about "over."

But nay.

Apparently, there is still a bit of work to be done. That baby has to be pushed allllllllll the way out. She does not "slip out."

A couple more contractions and pushes and finally someone said something like "One more big push."

And I wanted that to be true. SO BADLY. Only one more. And so I pushed like my life depended on it. I pushed through the entire contraction and then longer because that baby was GOING to come OUT on THIS push.

And she did.

I later said that as all the rest of her slipped out of me, it felt like what I imagine birthing large link sausage casings would be like.

4:23 p.m. The End (which was also the beginning)

I just stayed there. Face in pillow. Breathing. Unsure if it was really over. Remembering that the placenta had to be birthed at some point. Not knowing if the contractions would continue with such ferocity until the very end, or if I was done.

I heard someone ask Ammon what the baby was and he said "It's a girl!"

Then they handed me the baby.

I was still so scared about the possibility of more contractions that I wasn't even sure I wanted to hold her yet. But they brought her around and placed her in my arms anyways.

And once I actually saw her I was so happy. And so relieved.

If you want to know the ultimate in physical relief - check out a brand new mother.

I tried to nurse her right then, still kneeling on the bed. They all helped me flip over and sit down and get comfortable without tangling up the cord or anything.

(This was the real pay-out for an epidural-free birth, being able to move and adjust myself immediately)

They eventually helped me birth the placenta - which, by the way, is nothing in comparison to the actual birth.

Ammon cut the cord.

They asked if I wanted to see my placenta before getting rid of it. I awkwardly declined.

And then we just soaked her in.

They give you a full hour of skin-to-skin time before they do any of the tests or measurements. And I was in no hurry to be done with that. I was fully happy to hold my baby and reel at the monumental thing that was just accomplished.

And not by me alone. I could not have done it without the nurse or the midwife. Their knowledge and gentle guidance, their attentive care, their perfectly- timed words of encouragement. I definitely could not have done it without my Ammon. Without his strength. His support. His kindness and grace (this birth was not pretty on so many levels). His perfectly timed cool cloths and loving steadiness. Most certainly I could not have done it without the strength and aid given by God. Without His perfectly inspired words of comfort and guidance and His angels all around me, I would have been lost to the despair of the pain before I had even begun.

Recovery

I ordered a delicious carb-loaded dinner of french toast to enjoy (good-bye gestational diabetes) while they trotted off to the other side of the room for the baby measurements.

And we got my hospital gown back on (they kindly gave me a new one because my first one was so grossly drenched in sweat).

And we finally started to take some pictures of baby.

And solidify our name choice.

Eveny.

We video called our kids that night to introduce them to the baby. They were all so excited. Well, almost all of them. Raubyn was a bit unsure.

We told all of our caretakers that we would greatly prefer to leave as close to the 24-hour mark as possible. And they all were wonderful in trying to make that happen. Really, I was so impressed with everyone who took care of us.

Recovery was my best ever. I had no tearing of any kind. Because I had no epidural, I could adjust and be comfortable right away. Bleeding was pretty minimal, all things considered. Because my IV was so awfully placed in my hand, it got to come out several hours early - it was barely hanging on. So I was a free-roaming bird pretty quickly. It was wonderful.

It was, however, a really long night of almost no sleep. Lots of blood sugar tests for baby, and regular vital checks, and worrying about Eveny's almost constant gagging up of amniotic fluid.

But morning came. And I showered to become human again.

And took lots of pictures with our newest cutie.

And enjoyed the beautiful Oregon view that we've never had before.

That evening we were ultimately able to pass all of the tests and be released to go home not long after 24-hours.

So we put her in her going home outfit, packed her up and headed out to meet the Grandma and the kids.

Home at Last

Ammely was the lucky winner in sitting next to the baby on the way home.

I wish I could somehow show you the glitter in her eyes as she visually took in Eveny that evening. She could not stop staring at her. At one point she got teary-eyed and said "I'm crying happy tears for the first time!" When we pulled up to the house she said, "It's just going to break my heart when she grows up."

Needless to say, it was love at first sight for her.

The same was true for Lynnden, who has not stopped asking to hold her since we got home a month ago.

And Clark is doting, sweet, and admiring.

Raubyn. Well, to begin with she was unsure. And decidedly disinterested.

But she has warmed up. Completely. She daily asks "Can I hold my Eveny?" She is always making sure Eveny has a blanket and loves to point her out in all of our pictures. "Eveny's cute! I just love my Eveny!"

That's how we all feel.

She is so cute. We just love our Eveny!

The Beginning (which was also an ending)

She was meant to be ours.

Heavenly Father's tender mercies were woven neatly through her entire journey to our family.

From COVID shutdowns keeping Ammon home with me through the worst of pregnancy, to the perfectly spoken words of comfort and encouragement in a blessing before labor.

From the first happy tears of an 8-year old to the squeals of "I just love my Eveny!" of a 2-year old.

And as we end our childbearing years, my heart aches a little at all of the little miracles that will no longer belong to me.

But now we start out on our journey as a completed family of seven.

And I have a feeling that, really, the ending is just the beginning of the miracles.