What is a Doula?

Doula is a Greek word for “woman’s servant.”
In nearly every culture of the world, women have traditionally surrounded themselves with other women to care for them during childbirth. Artistic depictions of childbirth usually display two or more women supporting the birthing mother. Usually, one of these women is a midwife, who is the person responsible for creating a safe passage for baby. The other women, usually on either side of the mother to comfort and soothe her, are doulas.

The Doula does not replace the role of the father/partner. Fathers are often able to participate more fully with a doula present. The top two fears that a father has surrounding pregnancy and birth are the worry about the safety of his unborn child and his partner. Much of that fear is gone when a doula is present because she can provide informational support about the labour as it progresses, and her calming influence allows the father to give the love and support that his partner needs to feel.

The presence of a doula complements a father's role and strengthens it. A doula often can give suggestions and encourage the father to touch, to talk, and to help in ways that feel truly comfortable to him and comforting to the mother.
Fathers, with the support of the doula, are able to participate at any level that feels right and natural for them. In this way, fathers can experience fully the joy and wonder of watching their babies come into the world.

Birth Doulas (aka Labour Support Doulas)
A birth doula is a supportive companion professionally trained to provide physical and emotional support during labour and birth.
A doula provides continuous support, beginning during early or active labor, through birth, and for approximately 2 hours following the birth. The doula offers help and advice on comfort measures such as breathing, relaxation, movement, positioning, and massage. She also assists families with gathering information about the course of labour and their options. Her most critical role is providing continuous emotional reassurance and comfort.

Doulas attend home births and hospital births; medicated births and unmedicated births, with women whose care is being overseen by doctors or midwives. Doulas may be the only support person for the mother, or may be part of a labour support team including mom’s partner, friend(s), and/or family members.
Doulas specialize in non-medical skills, and do not perform clinical tasks, or diagnose medical conditions.

Doulas do not make decisions for their clients. Their goal is to provide the support and information needed to help the birthing mother have a safe and satisfying birth as the mother defines it.

Postpartum Doulas
There are also postpartum doulas, who provide support after the baby is born. They have knowledge about postpartum recovery, breastfeeding, and newborn care. Their services vary depending on your needs, and might involve anything from a one-time visit for information and advice, to providing overnight care every night for a month.

Proven Benefits of Doula Care
-Decreased medical intervention in labour
-Reduces need for cesarean by 26%
-Reduces the need for forceps or vacuum extractor by 41%
-Reduces use of pain medication by 28%
-Reduces dissatisfaction with birth by 33%
-Reduces length of labour

Six weeks after birth, mothers who had doulas were:
-Less anxious and depressed
-Had more confidence with baby
-More satisfied with partner
-More likely to be breastfeeding

Please look at the DOSA website (Doula's of South Africa) to find a Doula, or even if you want to learn how to become a Doula! http://doula.org.za/

Roald’s Birth Story

Baby boy, Roald, born on the 3rd of August 2010 ,his birth story told by his mommy,Genesis Staff (& Private) Midwife, Juriet Nieuwoudt, who was the first staffmidwife to birth her baby at Genesis Clinic !

I wasn’t particularly looking to fall pregnant again as I already had 3 kids ( more than enough according to me) as well as that I had recently started my own midwifery practice. So juggling the practice, being a full time staff midwife at Genesis as well as being a mom was more than enough for me. But as luck would have it something else was written in my stars than what I had intended.

Initially , I was quite embarrassed about being pregnant yet again and only told my husband. What I found though was the longer I kept quiet about it , the more difficult it got to “disclose my status”. Every time I thought it was a good time to announce my pregnancy somebody else would spill their beans before me. First it was our unit manager Tamzin and then my business partner and colleague Nicolette. When I got to my 12th week of pregnancy I had no choice but to tell the hospital manager. When I told her that I had some news, the first thing she said was:” Please don’t tell me you are also pregnant”. The news didn’t go down too badly and life went on from there.

I had my first 3 children with Growth Spurt (Sandi delivered all of them) and I really needed my trusted midwife, colleague and friend to deliver this baby as well. But Sandi had given up private practice when Growth Spurt moved their practice to Genesis and this was a huge problem for me. I phoned my friend and told her that number 4 was on the way and I really wanted her to birth this little Nieuwoudt as well. Sandi agreed to come “out of retirement” for the delivery of my little one. But seeing as she was working full time at Linkwood, we had to work out a plan B for in case she could not come out for the delivery. So I kept on seeing Growth Spurt for my ante natal check – ups and I had arranged that if I could not get hold of Sandi I would phone Henny directly and we would work out an alternative. So with all my ducks in a row , I continued my pregnancy without much problems (Except for the ever present heartburn).
I was due to start my maternity leave on the 1st of August, but as it was a Sunday and I was working the Saturday, Tamzin could not find anyone to work in my place on the Sunday. So she asked me to postpone my maternity leave to the 2nd and I obliged.

I finished my shift on the first and was grateful that my maternity leave had finally begun as I was quite exhausted. On Sunday night at midnight I started having contractions about every five minutes and I decided to just keep an eye on them for a while as I wasn’t going to wake every one up for a false alarm. About two hours later the contractions tapered down and I finally managed to fall asleep again. The whole of Monday though I was not feeling myself. Just utterly exhausted and listless. I slept till about 11h00 and then went about my daily routine with much effort. Finally it was time to go to sleep for the night and I was relieved. I had slept for about an hour when I woke up at 23h00 with contractions and I thought, “oh here we go again. Another night without rest.” I timed the contractions for about an hour until 00h00 and then decided that this was not another false alarm, but the real deal. So I woke my husband up, phoned my parents to tell them that we were bringing the kids over and got all our bags together and in the car. As Murphy would have it I tried getting hold of Sandi and her phone just rang and eventually went to voice mail. When I could not get hold of Sandi I phoned Genesis and booked a bed and I thought that if worst comes to worst one of my colleagues would be the lucky one to deliver my baby. Then I phoned Henny as arranged and she told me that Linda (her partner) was already at Genesis with another client so I could just go through.

While dropping off the kids at my parents house Linda phoned me and asked how I was feeling. I was coping pretty well at this stage. She said that I should just let them know if anything changes in the car so they can run the bath for me before I arrive. Half way to the clinic my contractions started getting quite intense and I was sure that I was going into active labour, so I phoned Genesis and told them to run the bath so long. We finally arrived at Genesis at about 01h00 and I was still able to crack jokes (So I think my colleagues Tegan and Nicola were not convinced that I was actually in labour). Nicola told me after the fact that I would just get this far off look on my face when having a contraction and when it was gone I would say “oh that was a tuff one” and just go on as normal. I had prayed very hard for a quick labour this time around as my third child’s labour was a long and dragged out event and I knew I would not be able to cope with that again. So I was quite relieved when Linda checked me and I was 5 to 6 cm dilated. We did a short CTG tracing of baby’s heart and I promptly got in the bath that was ready and waiting. What a relief to get in the water. It just feels like you are on another planet when you get into the water. It is so soothing, but at the same time my contractions now really started getting quite intense. So being the sissy that I am, I told Linda that I needed Pethidine and Aterax. I think she thought I was kidding and for about 10minutes she just bluntly ignored me. So I said to her “ Linda, I was not joking. I really need something for the pain” She eventually obliged and I had my pain meds.

Approximately 10 minutes after she gave me the pain relief, I had the urge to bear down. When Linda checked I was only 7cm dilated, but as I gave a push my cervix just disappeared and I knew that I could now give it my all. What a nice feeling to be able to push and bring my baby out into this world.
Listening and doing what Linda coached me to do with the crowning of the baby’s head took a lot of effort as the desire to push was so intense. But I knew that I had to listen carefully to her instructions if I wanted to avoid any tears.

At 01h48, my precious baby boy Roald Nieuwoudt (Meaning: famous ruler) slipped into the world and into his mommy’s heart. He weighed in at 3,35kg and was perfect in every way and I was so happy that my wish for a short labour had been granted. Unfortunately I sustained a skin snick and Linda had to give me one stitch as I was bleeding (quite disappointing as I had been intact with my last two babies, but at the same time not the end of the world).
and Roald is welcomed into the world!

At 05h00 my phone rang and it was Sandi. She had forgotten her phone in her handbag in the lounge and never heard it ring. When she woke up to go to the loo, she realised she didn’t set her alarm on her phone and went looking for it. That is when she got my message that I was in labour. But in the end all’s well that end well.
Look at me, all of 3370grams!

After being back at work I needed to do combined statistics for Genesis for the whole of 2010 and when going back into the maternity register I found it quite amusing that the first entry in the register for August I was present at the birth and the entry after that was my birth.

The Bio-Baba Story

It always so lovely to know of women who through their personal experiences, make such a postive difference in the world, one of these women is Vicky Penfold, who is offering a free trial pack of her Bio-Baba range (see Monthly Competition in the blog sidebar).

Here is her story.

On discovering I was pregnant for the first time, I immediately decided that a few things had to change! The first was to give up smoking which was surprisingly easy; to give up a stable job and move to the suburbs was not as straight forward. After working as an editor of travel, investment and mining publications as well as three years as the Regional Marketing Manager for a large systems integration firm, and briefly in PR, I had my feet firmly entrenched in ‘the corporate world’. Our house was conveniently close to Cape Town city centre and was a lock-up and go…with no real garden to speak of. What garden there was tumbled onto the street which was frequently lined with rubbish and beggars. Not for MY baby! We started looking for a house that was in a cleaner suburb, with some space for a toddler to run and play in a garden. Needless to say we only found something suitable and moved in a month before giving birth! I also resigned from my job and so did my husband! He had been teaching in town in various language schools, but it was now time to put down roots and ‘get serious’ about starting his own company. This was very scary, but paid off as he now has his own successful translating business – and he works from home which is fantastic for the kids. I was more than content not to have to go to work and just stay home with baby, but after a few months I found myself needing something a little more than nappies to talk about. Ironically, this was not meant to be! When I first started using nappies in 2002 after the birth of my son Hugo, the only alternative on the South African market to ‘disposables’ was the ‘Terri nappy’, which is the one that you have to fold, use a safety pin and a plastic waterproof with. This just seemed so ‘old-fashioned’ and far too much effort. I had seen fitted nappies from friends who had bought them overseas (where they are readily available and hugely popular) and wondered why there was nothing like it on the South African market. That is when the ‘project’ started! I called a friend who is a dressmaker and gave her a pattern to make up some samples which were duly tested on my son. Each month the design would change, the layers and types of fabric would alter –this was real trial and error! Working for yourself is not easy, especially in a field that you have no previous knowledge. If someone had told me 5 years ago that my life’s work would be to ‘design,manufacture and distribute eco-friendly nappies as an alternative to disposables’ I would have laughed hard and dismissed the idea as ludicrous! However, the amount of time and work I had put into my ‘project’ meant that, above all, I had to take myself seriously.That is why I sought out the guidance of the folk at the Umsobomvu Youth Fund. The fund was established by the government in an attempt to address the youthunemployment challenge in South Africa and, through its Voucher Programme, helpwith business plan development. This was an essential part of getting my business off theground…an idea is one thing…making it a viable business venture is another kettle offish entirely! At the end of 2004 I did my first production run in a factory with ladies I had trained in Grassy Park…after nearly having a nervous break-down I went on the Christmas holidays with family in Durban. Then the most truly awful thing happened, on Boxing Day of 2004, a tsunami, of unimaginable proportions struck the countries of South East Asia. Unfortunately, my brother Justin and his fiancée Seda were holidaying on the Thai island of Phi Phi at the time, needless to say, neither of them survived. Seda’s body was identified by an unusual tattoo on her shoulder; nearly 2 years after the event. She was repatriated to Turkey and buried just before Christmas 2006. Much of the early part of 2005 was spent in mourning and travelling around the world attending memorial services in Justin’s honour. During this time I met many truly amazing people who were united in their grief for loved ones. They also all shared acommon philosophy, and that is that ‘The planet is in crisis ’. A human tragedy and natural disaster of this scale is an enormously humbling thing and made me acutely aware of how interconnected we are, and just how fragile the planet is.On returning from Zimbabwe in June of 2005, I was resolved that my passion for raising awareness of the environmental impact of disposable nappies was no accident and setabout thinking of ways to ‘get the message across’ to the largest number of people, in the shortest possible time. My business is my way of honouring my brother’s life. I believe that Bio-Baba nappies are the best alternative to the billions of disposable nappies dumped each year (making disposable nappies one of the biggest waste contributors on the planet). I do not want my children to grow up in a waste land. I consol myself after a sleepless night of looking after small children that I am ‘doing my bit’ to ensure that South Africa does not become one! In February 2006, I was blessed with another baby boy, Todd Niran Clarke… ‘Niran’ isa Thai name meaning ‘Eternal’), and have been supported through all the hard times withlove and infinite patience by my husband Greg. 2005 was incredibly difficult for my whole family, but in the words of the Archbishop of Canterbury, in a memorial at St. Paul’s Cathedral of that year “love can continue to grow, even on the soil of the worst pain and the deepest doubt”...this is so true of life, andof business too. If you love what you do, and believe in it – it will grow into something meaningful.

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  FACTS YOU SHOULD KNOW WHEN DECIDING ON NAPPIES: If you have a baby in disposable nappies in your home, your household waste doubles!


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  In 2½years in disposable nappies a baby will have:üused 325kg of plastic 20 trees worth of pape produced at least 1 tonne & landfill space.


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  Disposable nappies are pegged at the world’s 3rd biggest household waste contributors behind newspapers at No.1 and containers/packaging for food. Your household is no different… millions are thrown away annually in SA, 9 million a day in the UK and 20 billion a year in the US and Canada…they do not bio-degrade!


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  Saliem Haider at the City Waste Mangement has this to say: “Cape Town is facing a major landfill airspace crisis. Two years ago 6 landfills were operational, and a few months from now we would have only 3 operational… There are some smaller municipalities in the Western Cape with bigger problems than Cape Town. The Johannesburg City area also has a crisis at hand.”


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  Waste in South Africa is currently growing at 5% faster than the population growth.


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  Nappies are classified as medical waste and should be incinerated – however individual municipalities in South Africa do not have the resources to do this there is the Polokwane Declaration which the Govt. has signed which means that there is a mandate to reduce our waste by a specific %....however, we all have a mandate to watch over our resources…and we all know – if we wait for govt… we might waita long long time!


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  Landfill sites are not designed or allowed to contain faeces, human or otherwise, and thus have no solution to the enormous number of soiled disposable nappies arriving daily. Baby ‘poop’ in disposable nappies SHOULD be flushed down the toilet before the nappy is disposed of correctly in the sewarge system – however notmany people know this or can be bothered to do it before chucking their nappies in the bin.

ENERGY & RESOURCE IMPACT STATISTICS: DISPOSABLES VS REUSABLES

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  Requires 3.5 x more energy to produce


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  Uses 8 x more non-regenerable raw materials


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  Uses 90 x more renewable material


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  Produces 2.3 x as much waste water


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  Produces 60 x as much solid waste


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  Needs 4 – 30 x more land for growing natural materials


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  Take 5 fingers and put them on your nose…that is where the buck stops.


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  Reduce, Re-use, Re-cycle.


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  Children live what they learn… choose a sustainable future for your baby.


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  For more information on incorporating cloth nappies into your routine, please contact:


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  Bio-Baba Nappies: sales@biobaba.co.za or call: 021 761 89 82

A Very Special Birth Story

Every Birth story is special, but here is one which really touched our hearts.

It is not a story from our Genesis Clinic mama's, (this mama is based in the USA), but its so beautiful, and it just shows that with love, anything is possible. It has to be read...

Friday, January 29, 2010

Nella Cordelia: A Birth Story Nella Fantasia

(translated from Italian)

In my fantasy I see a just world,

Where everyone lives in peace and honesty.

I dream of souls that are always free

Like the clouds that float

Full of humanity in the depths of the soul.

In my fantasy I see a bright world,

Where each night there is less darkness.

I dream of spirits that are always free,

Like the clouds that float.

In my fantasy exists a warm wind,

That blows into the city, like a friend.

I dream of souls that are always free,

Like the clouds that float

Full of humanity in the depths of the soul

Cordelia: Dorothy Cordelia, my dear loving grandma, who taught me more about life than she could have ever known.

This is probably the hardest thing I've ever had to write in my entire life. The hardest and yet the most beautiful. As I even just begin to type here, late, in the dark in my room alone with my girls sleeping next to me, their little faces barely visible from the glow of the the same candles that flickered in a very special room one week ago, my heart starts aching thinking of where I was at exactly this moment last week.A week. How can it already have been a week? I've thought a million times what I'm going to write here and how I'm going to begin and what order I'll put it in and I think I've been so afraid to come back here...so afraid of not doing justice this very precious night...of leaving something out...of attaching simple words to an event that is so far from simple, it might just not be possible. But I need to get it out. I don't know how it's going to come or if it will make sense, but I'm just going to write. And when I get stuck, I will pick up this tiny blessed life beside me and hold her tight. I will breathe her in and remember...

Oh, here it goes.The story of our daughter's birth.

This is Nella's Story.I turned 31 on December 29...exactly a month ago. We went to dinner with friends the evening before and as we left, we saw the new bookstore nearby welcomingly lit up. I had told Brett I didn't need anything this year for my birthday as Christmas had just passed, but at the sight of the bookstore, I remembered a book I had read about from another photographer. As we walked by, I told Brett I changed my mind. I wanted a book, and I wanted it...tonight. So we ventured in, and he played with Lainey downstairs while I wandered up in the self-help section, thumbing through titles until I landed on the only copy of the book...A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller.Later at home, we put Lainey to bed and I drew a bath and climbed in with my big pregnant belly, my new book and a highlighter. And I read. And read. And read. Underlining, highlighting, starring paragraphs and quotes and words that moved me hard. I warmed the water about a trillion times and pruned my skin to raisins, but I could not stop reading. It turned into a three hour bath followed by another hour or so of reading in my bed. By the end of the book, I was inspired. Inspired to write a new story for our life...inspired to face challenges and leave my comfort zone and go through hard things because that is what turns the screenplays of our lives from boring to Oscar-worthy. And, to be honest, in my mind, our uncomfortable challenge was the changes in our life with Brett's job and having him away from home. Little did I know.Fast forward.Last Thursday, Brett & I teased all day that we were so ready for this baby, she had to either come Thursday or Friday. Every time he called me from work, he told me I should be out jogging. I didn't jog, but I did walk like crazy, trailing Lainey through the streets of our neighborhood in a stroller, thinking, "These might be the last moments with my only daughter alone."

And Thursday night, the pains started coming...nothing horribly uncomfortable but some significant cramps that were semi-regular and popped up several times through the night. By morning, I had several that were 15-20 minutes apart, and my doctor, convinced I would go fast once I was in full swing, suggested I go to the hospital within a few hours. I remember getting off the phone and it hit me. Today was going to be the day. It was surreal. I texted my friends. Called my family. And began the last steps in the ever long process of saying goodbye to my 'only child.' She wanted her face painted like a kitty and, although I was excited to pack up and head to the hospital, I savored every brush stroke of those last moments with my big girl.I called my friend, Katie, in Fort Lauderdale. I met Katie the night Lainey was born as she was the delivery nurse...and we have since been forever friends. She promised me she wanted to be present for all my babies' births, so she high-tailed it over I-75 after my call to get there in time.It was strange. It seemed so real and yet I had dreamed of this moment for so long, it seemed a bit like a dream as well. It all just hit me...we had waited for this. Wanting a second child. Losing a pregnancy. Getting pregnant. The horrible night I thought it was all ending and the trip to the E.R. where we saw that little heartbeat. Waiting and preparing and finally, these last weeks, having everything just...perfect. The birth music ready to go, the blankets I had made packed and ready, the coming home outfit, the big sister crown for Lainey, the nightgown I had bought just for the occasion...what I would wear holding my daughter the first night I rocked her to sleep. Even the favors I hand-designed and tied every ribbon on were lined and stacked in a box, ready to pass out the moment the room flooded with visitors. My heart could hardly hold the excitement, and I will never ever forget what it feels like to long for your baby being handed in your arms the last few days of your pregnancy...it's so real, you can touch it.We said goodbye to Lainey as we left her with Grandma and headed to the hospital where I was quickly instructed to drop trou and gown up. I slipped the white ruffled skirt and black shirt I wore into a plastic belongings bag. Days later, just the sight of these clothes--the ones I wore during my excitement and happiness...during those last 'happy' moments before my life was changed--would bring pain. I think Heidi finally hid the bag because it made me cry every time.The early stages of labor were perfectly beautiful. Nothing hurt that bad, I had the anticipation of this eutopian experience ahead of me, Brett was chill, and my girlfriends started trickling in the room. We actually played a game...the "if you could..." cards I had packed in my bag for this very purpose. I had it perfectly planned, and it was going just as I had imagined...but better.By 2:00, my water had been broken and my contractions were in full force.

The room was full of excitement and laughter. I chatted with my girlfriends until a contraction came on where I shifted gears, "ow-ow-ow-ow-ow'd" my way through it (and cursed), and came out of it as fast as I went in, picking up the conversation where we left off. I checked to make sure Brett was okay. Several of my girlfriends were headed out for a birthday party but, with news of my status, they all huddled into the room, dressed to the nines, before their night out to check on me. I liked the commotion...I loved the anticipation. I loved the feeling of people waiting anxiously for our baby. It felt special. ...and we were so ready.Two hours went by and I was off the wall in pain, begging for anesthesia to get in with an epidural. They were tied up, and so I cursed them too. Little did I know, I was a 9. This is where things begin to get hazy. It all just happened so fast. I remember anesthesia walking in to give me an epidural, Brett getting uneasy, girlfriends talking me through it, my pediatrician stopping in to say 'hi' during her rounds, and my obstetrician walking in and gowning up. This was it. With Lainey, it took forever and here I was, just hours after walking in this place, and they were going to tell me to push. They were going to tell me 'just one more' and then suddenly my life was going to change.

I couldn't grasp it even then. It was all just happening so fast and I wanted to savor it. I looked around the room and tried to take it in...the candles, the music, the lavender oil I brought that wafted through the room and calmed the tension. And then I remember just speaking to myself. You are about to meet your daughter. You are about to be changed for good. At this moment, I heard the sounds of our birth song begin to fill the room...When You Love Someone. And I began to cry. My husband, my friends, my dad, my nurses...all of them smiling...cameras flashing... One more push. Oh, this is so hard... I pushed. I pushed and watched as the tiniest little body came out of me, arms flailing, lungs wailing...and then, they put her in my arms. ...and I knew. I knew the minute I saw her that she had Down Syndrome and nobody else did.

I held her and cried. Cried and panned the room to meet eyes with anyone that would tell me she didn't have it. I held her and looked at her like she wasn't my baby and tried to take it in. And all I can remember of these moments is her face. I will never forget my daughter in my arms, opening her eyes over and over...she locked eyes with mine and stared...bore holes into my soul. Love me. Love me. I'm not what you expected, but oh, please love me. That was the most defining moment of my life. That was the beginning of my story. I don't remember a lot here. My friends have filled me in, but I feel like I was in a black hole. I know I held her. I know I kissed her. I know I begged every power in the world that this wasn't happening...that she was normal, but I knew in my soul exactly what this was. She was scooped off my chest and taken to the warming bed where nurses nervously smiled as they checked her over. I wanted someone to tell me what was going on...I kept asking if she was okay, and they told me she was fine. She was crying and pink and just perfectly healthy. I wanted to say the words, but couldn't. So, I asked why her nose was smooshed...why she looked funny. And because she came out posterior and so quickly, many people in the room honestly thought she'd look a little different in an hour or so. But I knew. I cried and cried while everyone smiled and took pictures of her, like nothing was wrong. I kept crying and asking, "Is there something you aren't telling me?" ...and they just kept smiling. At this point, I have believed until recently that the pediatrician came in right away and told me the news. But because I was so confused and emotional and haven't slept much in a week, I am told it wasn't right away. The nurses apparently called my pediatrician in for 'D.S. suspicions.' And during this hour, I was handed back my daughter as if everything was okay. When I think about this time later, I have cried and cried wondering what I did. Did she feel love? Did I kiss her? Did I hold her and tell her 'happy birthday' and smother her with happy tears? My friends in the room smile when I ask this and promise me I did. They said I couldn't stop kissing her. And while I held her, the room went on. Someone popped champagne and poured glasses and a toast was raised..."To Nella!" while I sat, confused, trying to take it in. ...and I am so very blessed my beautiful photographer friends, Laura and Heidi, were there to capture every single moment. They never stopped shooting...there are over 2000 images from the delivery and they have helped me relive the beauty. This photo is so beautiful to me...because it speaks with emotion. This is how I felt while everyone carried on for me. I remember feeling....nothing. As if I literally left my body for a bit. But they said I kissed her. They said I loved her. They said I was a mama. I remember my pediatrician suddenly walking in and my heart sank a bit...I knew. "Why is she here?" I asked. And they told me she was just checking the baby out. Which she did. And then the room grew quiet and everyone was asked to leave. I started shaking. I knew it was coming. The tears. The twisting in my stomach that they were about to rock my world. Brett stood behind me, stroking my hair and my nurse friends, Dot and Katie, stayed on either side of the bed.

And it happened. My pediatrician snuggled Nella up in a blanket and handed her to me...and she knelt down next to my bed so that she could look up at me...not down. She smiled so warmly and held my hand so tight. And she never took her eyes off mine. We had been through a lot together with Lainey's jaundice and I have spent many tearful conversations with her over the course of these two and a half years. She is an amazing pediatrician. But at this moment, she became more than that. She was our friend as she beautifully shared the news. I need to tell you something. ...and I cried hard... "I know what you're going to say." She smiled again and squeezed my hand a little tighter. The first thing I'm going to tell you is that your daughter is beautiful and perfect. ...and I cried harder. ...but there are some features that lead me to believe she may have Down Syndrome. Finally, someone said it. I felt hot tears stream down and fall on my baby's face. My beautiful, perfect daughter. I was scared to look up at Brett, so I didn't. I just kissed her. And then, Dr. Foley added... ...but, Kelle....she is beautiful. and perfect. I asked for my dad to be let back in the room. And when he walked in, I cried again. They think she has Down Syndrome. And he smiled as his eyes welled up with tears and he said, "That's okay. We love her." He scooped her up and I asked him to say a prayer. And there, in the delivery room where moments earlier she entered the world, we huddled around my bed...Brett still stroking my hair, Katie crying on one side, Dot on the other and Dr. Foley kneeled down beside my bed.

He prayed and thanked God for giving us Nella and thanked him for the wonderful things he had planned for us. For our family. For Nella. Amen. Dr. Foley hugged me and told me she got to hold her for her examination, but now she wanted to hold her just for some snuggles. And she did. I will always remember her compassion and know there is no one else that could do a better job sharing this challenging journey with us. Katie asked if I wanted to nurse Nella, and I did. Another dreamy moment I had always anticipated and yet it felt so different this time. But I remember her latching right on and sucking away with no hesitation and looking at her, completely accepting me as her mama and snuggling in to the only one she's ever known and I felt so completley guilty that I didn't feel the same. I felt love, yes. I just kept envisioning this other baby...the one that I felt died the moment I realized it wasn't what I expected. But the nursing...oh, the nursing...how incredibly bonding it's been. The single most beautiful link I've had to falling in love with this blessed angel. And, look...I smiled.

I don't remember smiling, but...I smiled. The hallway was still filled with everyone who was waiting...and there are stories from our other wonderful friends and family of what happened behind those walls while they waited. All I know is that there was more love in that birthing center than the place could hold. As anxious eyes re-entered the room, I held my baby and told them all, crying, what we had been told. I knew there was a stream of friends ready to come and celebrate and I wanted them all to be told before they came in. I couldn't emotionally handle telling anyone and yet, strangely, I wanted people to know as soon as possible because I knew I needed the troops...I was falling, sliding, tunneling into a black hole and I needed as much love as possible to keep me up. I just remember happiness. From everyone. All of the blessed souls in that room celebrated as if there was nothing but joy. Everyone knew...and there were a few puffy eyes, but mostly, it was pure happiness. More friends trickled in. More smiles. More toasts. And hugs with no words...hugs like I've never felt. Ones that spoke volumes...arms pulled tightly around my neck, lips pressed against my forehead and bodies that shook with sobs...sobs that told me they felt it too...they felt my pain and they wanted to take it away. And Brett...well, he never left our girl's side. He was quiet through this all, and I'm not sure I'll ever know what he felt, but I know the daddy of our babies, and I know he knows nothing but to love them with all his heart. And he did from the very start. As soon as the epidural wore off, I wanted my own nightgown. They were going to take me to our new room upstairs, and I was ready for a new start. Everyone carried our stuff up and waited for us. And then...the moment I always talk about...the moment they put you in that wheelchair and place the baby in your arms...and stroll you through the hallways to your room while onlookers smile and wish they were you. It's so strange, but I barely remember it. I remember arriving to our room and being told Lainey was on her way. And I cried new tears...I hadn't even thought about how this would impact Lainey...what she would think...how her life would be different...how every beautiful vision I had of two sisters growing up together, grown-up phone calls, advice-giving, cooking together, shopping...everything would be different. Numbness started leaving my heart and sheer pain started settling in. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry when Lainey gets here. ...and then I'll never forget her face...her cute outfit someone put her in...her eyes when she walked into that room, and the way she tried to hide her excitement with her shy smile. I will never forget the day my girl became a big sister. I will never forget the moment her little sister was placed in her arms. I watched in agony...in tears...in admiration as my little girl taught me how to love. She showed me what unconditional love looks like...what the absence of stereotypes feels like...she was... ...proud. ...and that was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. I needed that. As darkness set in that night and people started trickling out, I felt paranoid. So completely afraid because I knew with darkness...with the absence of everyone celebrating...the grief would come. I could feel it coming...and it hurt so, so, so very bad. I wanted Lainey to go home with Brett. My heart was in a million pieces and wanted to be with her, and if I couldn't, I wanted him there. And so he left...with the little girl that completed my world, and I was left in the hospital with my two amazing, wonderful friends who will never ever know how special they are because of what they did for me that night. And they heard and saw things no one else will ever know, but I could have never made it through the night without them. I think I cried for seven hours straight. It was gut-wrenching pain. I held Nella and I kissed her but I literally writhed in emotional pain on that bed in the dark with our candles and my friends by my side until the sun came up. I remember trying to sleep and then feeling it come on again...and I'd start shaking, and they'd both jump up and hug me from either side, Nella smooshed between the four of us. I begged for morning, even once mistaking a street light for sunlight and turning on the lights only to find it was 3 a.m. and I still had to make it through the night. I can't explain that evening. And I suppose it's horrible to say you spent the first night your daughter was born in that state of agony, but I know it was necessary for me to move on to where I am today. And, knowing where I am today and how much I love this soul, how much I know she was meant for me and I am meant for her, knowing the crazy way our souls have intertwined and grown into each other, I can say all this now. It's hard, but it's real, and we all have feelings. We live them, we breathe them, we go through them and soon they dissolve into new feelings. So, here I go. I cried out that I wanted to leave her and run away. I wanted to take Lainey and my perfect world and this perfect love I had built with my two-year old and our cupcake-baking days and our art projects and our beautiful bond and I wanted to run like hell. I wanted to be pregnant again. I wanted to be pregnant so bad.

I wanted it to be the morning she was born again...when I was happy and excited and when I wore the white ruffled skirt and black shirt and put it in the belongings bag knowing joy was to come. I wanted to go back. I wanted to go back. I wanted to go back. I moaned in pain and through it all, this little breath of heaven needed me. I cried while I nursed her. I cried while I held her. I cried while I pulled my nightgown off just so I could lie her body on my naked skin and pray that I felt a bond. I literally writhed in emotional pain for hours. And Heidi and Katie saw parts of me no one else have seen. My eyes were so swollen, Heidi said I looked like Rocky...like someone beat the hell out of my face and then cut little slits for eyes. It was that bad. ...and then morning came. ...and with it, hope. There is so much more I could write...and I will...in chapters of our book. My sister arrived the next day and revolutionized the place with her "I Have a Dream" speech. She told me I swallowed the blue pill. She told me I could never go back. But that I held a key to a door that no one else does. And, with tears in her eyes, she excitedly and passionately told me how lucky I was. She told me that I was chosen and that it is the most special thing in the world. She told me it was going to be just fine. And she was so right.

The day after Nella was born, I fell in love hard. I knew she was mine. I knew we were destined to be together. I knew she was the baby all along that grew in my beautiful round tummy...the one I thought I almost lost...the one that I proudly rubbed when people told me how beautiful that belly was. It was. It was Nella all along. A huge turning point for me was when my sister published my blog entry and an outpouring of love turned on. I had no idea. None.

I had no idea you all were out there. And the words you all said...I believed them. And maybe I believed them all along, but to hear them when I needed them...you all empowered me. And my friends and family...oh, they'll never ever know how special they are to me. I've never felt so loved. You all truly gave me your hearts to borrow while mine was breaking. And you loved my baby. You loved her so good. You're not her mama and yet you washed her with tears when you held her. You kissed her. When she cried in the middle of the night and I needed some blessed sleep, you rigged up the jaundice lights against the nurse's orders, put your sunglasses on and took turns sleeping in a chair just to hold her. You promised to be there on this journey and that alone means more than we can ever tell you. To be loved...is the greatest feeling one can ever feel. Over the course of the next several days, things just became beautiful. I cried, yes...but they soon turned to tears of joy. I felt lucky. I felt happy. And I felt that I didn't want to run away with Lainey anymore...and if I did, I was taking my bunny with me. When Lainey was in the hospital with jaundice, I remember hugging Brett and crying. I told him if God would make her better, I'd do anything. I'd live in a box, I'd sell everything we had, I'd be happy with nothing...just make her better. When she did get better, that feeling of raw gratitude was real, but it wasn't long before real life set in and I was complaning once again about the dirty grout in our cheap tile and how much I wanted wood floors. I've often thought about how quickly that feeling left because we have a perfect, healthy little girl running around that erases all the painful memories of when we thought something might be seriously wrong. I felt that feeling again last week. And as the pain has slowly disipated, I've realized...I will always be reminded. My Nella, my special little bunny, my beautiful perfect yet unique girl will be my constant reminder in life. That it's not about wood floors. No, life is about love and truly experiencing the beauty we are meant to know. And so, we came home...happy. In fact, walking out of the hospital with our new baby girl and our proud new big girl, all crowned up, gripping the handle of the carseat with Daddy...it was just how I had imagined it. Life moves on. And there have been lots of tears since. There will be. But, there is us. Our Family. We will embrace this beauty and make something of it. We will hold our precious gift and know that we are lucky. I feel lucky. I feel privileged. I feel there is a story so beautiful in store...and we get to live it. Wow. The story has begun... Page by Page... (First "Well Baby" Visit...Dr. Foley, we love you.) I cannot begin to tell you how much I love her. I wouldn't trade her for the world, and y'all can have that heart you let me borrow back. My broken heart has been healed...and if you held her, you'd know what I mean. photographed by my dear friend, heidi My Girls. I am complete. There's been so much wonder I've wanted to share...but I knew I had to tell her story first. More to come...we've been taking lots of pictures and loving the beauty of life...and the funny...and the hectic...it's been crazy. ...but beautiful. I did it.

I told our bunny's story.