Welcome, Sweet Nora

Have I left you all in suspense long enough?

I guess I've been all buildup and no resolution over here. Sorry. I've been so preoccupied enjoying our sweet girl that I've been slow to record how her birth finally came about. Forgive me?

I'll start at the beginning and say that when I went off bed rest at 37 weeks, I became an absolute crazy person. I did two months worth of nesting in one week. I made two or three dinners a day, eating one and freezing the rest. I cleaned everything in sight, shopped my brains out at Target, attended two amazing baby showers, sanitized every object we owned and only really lost my mind once. Success.

After eight weeks of fearing Nora was going to fall right out of me, I fully expected her to come any day. But she didn't come. My 37-week appointment came and went, and at the next week's visit my doctor couldn't believe I was still pregnant.

And as it turns out, I practically wasn't. I had been in labor all this time, having contractions and dilating while blissfully wandering around Target. I probably only had a few hours—if that—once my water decided to break. So Dr. Walsh decided to take matters into her own hands, in case those hours turned into minutes.

We "induced" labor the next morning, though it wasn't really a chemical induction. Contractions came hard and fast—a couple times, they came one on top of the other—once the doctor broke my water.

Oh, and I decided to go medication-free this time. I loved having an epidural with Lyla and I'm in no way opposed to them, but I decided a few months ago that I wanted to have at least one baby in my life without medication. And since I was dilated to six centimeters going in, I knew this labor wouldn't last long. I fully trusted my doctor and, though I didn't attend any classes or anything, I trusted my body. I wanted to do it. So I did.

It hurt a lot (um, obviously?) but it was really amazing to feel everything that was happening. It didn't feel like I thought it would. The body is an amazing thing. Ryan was an all-star birth partner, tirelessly counting "in-two-three-four, out-two-three-four" to keep my breathing steady.

Then all at once, it was go time. The doctor ran into the room—literally, ran—and got dressed in scrubs while about a million nurses came in and got things ready. Pushing felt like descending into a lake of fire, but it was—again—incredible to experience what my body could do. Even if I was screaming at one point.

Nora Phyllis Olaveson was born Sept. 10, 2013, at 10:57 a.m. She weighed six pounds, six ounces. Her dark brown hair had blonde tips. She was absolutely beautiful and absolutely perfect.

And just like that, the complicated pregnancy and the sacrifice of our family and countless friends and family came to an end. When all was said and done, I carried Nora to 38 weeks, two days—two days longer than I carried Lyla. She weighed 11 ounces more than Lyla, too.

Can you believe it? Prayers are answered. So many of those prayers came from you, and we thank you for them from the bottom of our hearts.

Don't you just love a good happy ending?