Memphis Mae
JANUARY 25 9:50 am 6 lbs 7 oz
Originally published here with video
I didn’t know what “Impossible” looked like for us. All I know, was that when I heard that one word I was in one of the darkest moments in my life. It was October 2017 after 13 cycles of medicated treatments trying to have a baby when we were told IUI wasn’t going to work for us. The medications weren’t working for us. They told us the words I was so afraid to hear one day. “I’m so sorry but conceiving a child naturally will be IMPOSSIBLE and IVF is your only option.” We were already there. and we had already paid for the medications and the treatment. I completed the IUI crying on the table knowing in my heart that it wasn’t going to work.
We drove home, holding hands along the way, wiping tears as we discussed IVF - the very last option available to complete our family. Fast forward to March 10, 2018, I was prepped and ready to have our egg retrieval. Our “little embryo that could” turned into the most beautiful and perfect baby girl. Mirabelle Quinn was born on November 18, 2018. That dark and emotional place I was in soon faded and I embarked on my newest journey of motherhood again with a new baby.
Having been told a natural pregnancy was impossible, we didn’t really take any precautionary measures. I mean, after a couple years with infertility and spending tens of thousands of dollars on treatments it really did seem “impossible.” At my 6 week OB appointment my doctor told me the likelihood for someone exclusively breastfeeding who did not suffer infertility has less than a 7% chance of becoming pregnant in the first 6 months after giving birth. He chalked it up and laughed and told me I had less than a 0.007% chance of that ever happening. Again, a second doctor basically using the term “impossible.” We were ok with that. We were happy. We absolutely felt complete with our family. Shortly there after we knew we had 6 remaining embryos from my egg retrieval that we needed to decide what to do with.
On June 4, 2019, we celebrated our wedding anniversary. We also signed all of the paperwork to donate our 6 remaining embryos to another couple struggling with infertility. We wanted to bring hope to another family who wanted just as badly as we did to have a Mirabelle. She was our miracle. Or was she?
The very next day on June 5, 2019, exactly 24 hours after signing the donation paperwork I got out of the shower and almost fell over with dizziness. It was a symptom I was all too familiar with. Could it be? No. No way. Impossible. I had one more home pregnancy test in the drawer and I thought “what the heck, just take it.” I sat there in complete disbelief as I saw 2 pink lines instantly show up. For 90 full seconds I was frozen to the toilet seat. I couldn’t move. Is this real? No. It can’t be. Impossible. Dave will never forget my screams as I called from up the stairwell. “Dave, we have a problem” as the saying goes from Apollo 13.
Due to our history, we had bloodwork to check for the pregnancy hormone. HCG levels were above 10,000. When they called me I told them “no, this is impossible, it can’t be.” The following week we were scheduled for an ultrasound. I was so certain that I would get there and nothing would show up on the ultrasound. That one little word was so ingrained into my brain. Yet there it was, a tiny little baby with the fluttering little heartbeat. That was my first glimpse of what “Impossible” looked like and I was instantly in love.
This little one’s journey already started out in a remarkable way. I wanted her birth to be just as empowering as her story. We prayed together for a few weeks before making a final decision but it was our hope that a homebirth would be suitable for us. We had to make it to 37 weeks. This pregnancy wasn’t nearly as high risk as Mirabelle’s, but we did hit a few bumps along the way. Through prayer and the amazing Dr B. at Maternal Fetal Medicine, we made it to 37 weeks.
Then we made it to 38 weeks. This was the longest pregnancy I ever had. It was perfect. She was going to be perfect. My birth experience was surely going to be perfect. For 4 days leading up to labor I knew changes were happening. I let my midwives know what was happening and texted Annica Quakenbush, our birth photographer and doula from Sprout and Blossom. The night before labor, I hibernated to the spare bedroom in the basement. It was dark, cold, and quiet. Just what I needed in that time. Contractions were 10-15 minutes apart and I remember feeling impatient as labor had been prodromal for days. It was 4 am. I couldn’t sleep. I was hungry, so I got up and enjoyed a glass of ice chips and a large piece of cheesecake. In that moment, everything changed. Contractions were 5 minutes apart. They were stronger. I kept wondering, “could this be it? Will I finally get to meet the impossible?” The midwives told me to wait until contractions were 5 minutes apart for a full hour. Oh my goodness, 5 am and they were still there! I texted Annica and told her I would shower and let her know how I felt afterwards. My gracious the shower came and went and contractions were strong and 3 minutes apart. My disbelief carried throughout the whole pregnancy and here I was in that moment still unsure of what was to come. Yet Annica was so supportive and she came anyway. I stopped responding to the midwives so they packed up and started heading my way also. I think Dave may have messaged them, but I just don’t recall that detail. By 6:30am my support was all there and setting up. I felt relief. I knew I was safe and that everything was going to be perfect. I knew Dave was relieved he wouldn’t be delivering at home alone without them.
I labored throughout the morning using the birth tub and eventually got too warm and moved to the comfort of my own bed. Looking back, it was so much better than the tiny hospital bed that left me unable to move freely and comfortably. My 11 year old daughter, Mady, helped the midwife catch the baby. After 3 short hours of active labor, my eyes looked into the face of the most gorgeous, petite, black-haired beauty I had ever seen in my entire life. Memphis Mae was born at 9:50 am. The view of the impossible was magnificent and miraculous. When they told me she was a girl, it was in that moment that I knew God made her my final unique piece of my identity into motherhood. I’m so beyond blessed for this journey - from the beginning until now. The homebirth was perfect. Almost as perfect as our journey to meet the “Impossible.”
