At this point after Moses was born, we were just barely getting home from the hospital.

We were never supposed to be there to begin with.

I didn’t want to do a birthing center at first, but Mel was adamant. Her pregnancy was normal so we agreed to give it a try. Her labor was lengthy (50 hours!) but otherwise fine–until she just kept bleeding nonstop after Moses was born.

By the time the ambulance arrived, the birthing pool was a dark red wine. Part of her placenta remained lodged and would not deliver. The midwife, who made a reasonable (but ultimately erroneous) attempt to get the rest of it out, made the bleeding worse. By the time Mel was on the operating table in the ER, the surgeon estimated she’d lost half her blood.

It was the exact scenario that lived in the back in my head when we agreed to do a birthing center. The birthing center had a fixed up-front cost, but it was not cheap. Now we were about to pay for a hospital on top of it.

Mel recovered over the next several days and we eventually got to go home. The bills were paid and we moved on. A year and a half later, we were pregnant again–and we decided to go back to the same birthing center.

The midwife acknowledged her intervention made the situation worse. But she also was the one who made the call to get Mel to the hospital when it was clear the bleeding wouldn’t stop. She stayed by Mel’s side until she was recovering in a hospital room. In my family’s darkest moment, she proved her trustworthiness. We agreed to try again.

It’s hard to overstate just how much better everything went this time around.

Mel went into labor around sunrise Friday morning. We grabbed Chick-fil-A on the way up. A little over eight hours later, she was holding Miriam. The placenta delivered in full. The bleeding was normal. The baby was healthy. Mel didn’t get a golden hour with Moses; she got several hours with Miriam.

We were home and in our bed watching Star Trek: The Next Generation (at her request!) later that evening.

Moses got to meet Miriam yesterday. We had been telling him for months that he was about to be a big brother. When he saw Miriam for the first time, we pointed and said “Sistuh!” He says hi to her every chance he gets. He is still getting used to how much time Mom has to spend in bed and with the baby, but is clearly overflowing with love for both.

There is no point or argument to this post, other than to say the Lord is good and his mercy endureth forever.

O Lord, open our lips, and our mouth shall show forth thy praise.