Aida: The Birth Story of Our Miracle Baby

It goes without saying that I’ve taken a bit of a break from my little blog here over the past year.

It was a year that really stretched me, personally, professionally, and physically – hello baby #2.

Birth story
Lindsay Bess Photography
Lindsay Bess Photography
Lindsay Bess Photography
Lindsay Bess Photography
Lindsay Bess Photography

I probably lost all of my male followers there, but that only includes my Dad and husband so I’m not losing sleep over it.

2018 Was A Year Of So Much Growth

My essential oil business grew large enough to replace the income from my full-time job, and I came home.
My son grew into a big five-year-old boy and I watched as the last traces of baby began to leave his features.
My love for my husband grew as our marriage evolved and we shared the joy of becoming parents again after a few rough years of loss.
My family grew as we welcomed our Aida. The child we have prayed over for so many years.

After a pregnancy that somehow seemed to drag on forever and pass in the blink of an eye, she came in the biggest snow storm our area has seen in 25 years.
I had a feeling she would, and had some sort of mental block about packing my hospital bag. I just knew that if I actually got my act together, that I would go into labor. So I put it off until 4pm on Sunday of the weekend of the great blizzard, then went out to enjoy four-wheeling and bonfires with my boys.

My contractions started around midnight that night.
Some might argue that it was a combination of riding a four-wheeler and walking through two feet of snow at 38.5 weeks pregnant, but I personally think it was the hospital bag.

As soon as my contractions started, we called my mother-in-law, who lives across the road to come stay with our son Creek. The snow was still so bad that even four-wheel drive wasn’t cutting it and she had to walk down her long driveway for Dustin to pick her up.

That’s commitment folks.

I called the hospital when she made it to our house, and they told me to wait until my contractions were closer together because it could just be dehydration.

Once you experience childbirth, the memory of its symptoms kind of haunt stick with you…

So I labored (in a state of delirium) all night long. I would much rather be at home anyway, but I may have cut it a little close. I had this great plan for how my labor and delivery would go:
Imagine with me, if you will, {calming oils} diffusing while peaceful music floats through the air and my dear husband rubs my back with Frankincense as he cheers me on and tells me that I’m his hero.

In reality, I spent the night back and forth between my bed and the shower while tracking my contractions in an app on my phone (so modern of me) and the only melody floating through the air was the Chewbacca-esque snoring of said dear husband. Don’t worry, he made up for it with his stellar driving skills later on.

Around 5:30 a.m. I applied Clary Calm, a doTERRA essential oil blend which can help to support a healthy labor and delivery while calming emotions.
All of the oils I had planned to use were packed up in that blasted hospital bag in the truck, so I used the best thing I had on hand (because I don’t know if I mentioned it or not, but I was delirious….I couldn’t even bring myself to ask anyone to get them!). Almost immediately my contractions jumped from 5-7 minutes apart, to a consistent 2-3 minutes.

It was go time.

I wasn’t quite prepared for just how quickly the oil seemed to take effect.

“Aren’t you an oil lady?” you ask.
“Shouldn’t you know these things?” you say.
To which I reply…Not. In. My. Right. Mind.

Did I mention we were snowed in?

Well, Dustin drove like Richard Petty. Or so I’ve been told, because all I remember is trying to keep my mouth (and my legs) closed, but being pretty unsuccessful. At one point I said a few choice words, and then told Dustin “I’m sorry, I’m trying to stop but I just can’t. I have to get it out now before I get to the hospital.” I was referring to the foul language, but I guess I should have specified, because the panicked look that came across the poor man’s face made it clear that he thought I was referring to the baby.

We made it to the hospital by 7 a.m., and 14 minutes later Aida was laying on my chest sucking her thumb. By the way, thumb sucking might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She would have been here even sooner, but the doctor wasn’t ready and told me to keep my legs closed! Easier said than done there, doc.

There are no words to describe the feelings of relief and disbelief that came over me when they placed her in my arms and I realized that I really have a baby after all this time. We have endured years of emotional turmoil as we felt cautious excitement with each new pregnancy, and deep, gut-wrenching grief when the first drop of blood fell and I knew what was happening. When I wrote about our loss before, I wrote with the hope, that someday I would be thanking God for a child that I wouldn’t have known if others had not gone before it. Not a single day passes that I don’t think about the three angels whose hearts have only ever beat under my own, but God knows I could never imagine life without our Aida.

Lindsay Bess Photography
Lindsay Bess Photography
Lindsay Bess Photography
Lindsay Bess Photography
Lindsay Bess Photography


  1. Grandma says:

    Your best yet! Yes, she is a miracle, as all babies are, but she’s extra special, because we prayed for her so long. God chose to give you a specia, blessing in Aida, she is such a sweet, contented little baby girl, and worth the long wait. Thank you, Caitlin! Love this.

  2. Kathy says:

    So beautifully written! Wonderful piece…and definitely worth being published! Enjoyed reading about your experience! What a blessing Aida must be!

  3. Brandy says:

    All the feels, you fiercely strong and beautiful woman. You literally brought me to tears. It is so brave of you to speak about such a personal and intimate matter. Many women who read this are going to persist, rightfully grieve, and remain hopeful because of your beautiful story.

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