Elena Phoenix Shepard
Born May 4th, 2012 – 8 lbs and 21″ (they said 20″ at the hospital, but that was corrected a few days later when she was a little more willing to straighten her legs…)

May 4th started very early for us. After only a few hours of sleep, I got up at 4:45am and prepared to head down to the hospital. At 5:15am, having already dropped off my son with my parents the night before, my husband and I got in the car and headed down to the hospital. After 2 very important stops: 1) Starbucks and 2) McDonalds for as big a breakfast as I thought I could handle. Because they sure weren’t going to let me eat again anytime soon and who knows how long labor will be.

We got to the hospital around 6am and checked in. I remember noticing immediately how quiet everything was. The nurses at checkin confirmed that it was a very empty ward that day. I updated my facebook status and twitter and promptly handed over my phone to my husband since I wouldn’t be doing anything else with it for a while. I was shown to room 12 in the BRAND NEW labor & delivery wing at Providence Holy Cross Mission Hills and given my lovely hospital gown to change into. My nurses, Peggy + Theresa, were there to get me settled in while they prepared to officially induce labor. I think I won the lotto with my nurses this time too. Peggy was pretty much exactly what you think of when you think stereotypical African American woman, only even better. She’s had 5 children herself so she was both mothering and no-nonsense. Which is pretty much my favorite combination. There were a lot of “oh child”s and “mmmm-hmmmm”s and even a few “girrrrrrrl”s in there too. I instantly relaxed with her and was more than a little sad I wouldn’t get to keep her as my nurse for the duration (she was going off her nigh shift). She gave me a few sage words of advice (like “Honey, just remember when you in that pain, this ain’t your body, this is someone else’s body, and when that pain is over, you’ll get your body back. You just go somewhere else when that body gets taken over.”). She also went through, point by point, the birth preferences I had printed up and brought with me. I can’t tell you how much appreciate her doing that too. I felt very listened to and taken care of, plus highly entertained by some of her responses to a lot of what we had written. Before long, all the checkin and medical information was entered into the computers and I was officially set to be induced. I said goodbye to my nurses and met Kristen, who would, most likely, be my nurse for the duration of my labor and delivery.

Kristen also when through the birth preferences before meeting me and explained some of the new procedures at Holy Cross. Like that, except for being limited by the length of my IV tube, I could labor in any position I wanted. I could also deliver in any position I wanted (BIG change) as long as the doctor was game (and since I knew it was going to be MY doctor – the best doctor on the entire planet – I knew that wouldn’t be an issue). She was also able to offer pain management options like massage or heat/cool packs too. She was extremely helpful and helped me to relax further. She hooked up the pitocin IV and we were set to go. At 7:45am, the first drop of pitocin started. I was already at 3cm and 40% effaced when I came in with contractions about ever 8-10 minutes, so they were very optimistic about how well the inducement would go. She started me on a level 1 and let me and Preston have some privacy, promising to come check on me every hour or be available anytime via the call button.

Within 30-40 minutes my contractions were chilling around the 3-4 minutes apart mark and Kristen was ready to bump me up to level 2. Preston’s parents had arrived at the hospital by that time and came in to see how things were going. I was still not in the uncomfortable stage so we were able to talk and visit for a little while. Kristen came in a few more times to make sure things were going ok and picking up. My contractions continued to get closer together and stronger. By about 11am, I was ready to have the room cleared and start focusing on that actual labor part of labor. It was getting harder to talk through contractions and I knew I’d do better with a calm, quiet environment. I remember being really glad for the huge window on one whole wall of the room that let in so much natural light. As if it wasn’t obvious enough, I love natural light and it was somehow calming for me to have that. The room I had Cameron in had no windows at all so it was a really unexpected and wonderful change. Funny the things you notice…

I did for a while, relying on the months of 4-6x a week of yoga to guide me into a focused breathing state. I was very pleasantly surprised by how well it worked. I was able to deep breath through contractions and fully relax in between. As long as I had Preston’s hand to hold, I was good. I tried a few different positions, including having Preston push down hard on my lower back while I sat on a chair and draped my upper body over the hospital bed, but ultimately, it ended up being easier for me to labor from a seated position on the bed. As things continued to intensify, conversation became almost nill and I just focused on breathing. I knew I wanted to get as close to delivery as possible before getting an epidural. To be honest, I was hoping to not have one at all, but I knew with pitocin, I might need to just be ok with that. But that didn’t mean that the idea of THAT needle was in any way appetizing. I knew I’d need to get to a pretty high level of pain to be convinced to do it. I also knew that pitocin was likely to get me to that point.

Around 11:30 my nurse told me that she knew this was going fast so she was going to take her lunch break quickly. Preston’s parents generously grabbed him food so he could stay in the room with me while I continued to work. By not long after noon, I was ready to be checked. I knew that if I was close to the end, I’d be able to make it without the epidural. But if I was not much past halfway, I’d be getting that epi for sure. The head nurse came in and checked, but I was only to 6cm and 70% effaced. I was a little bummed but told her to go ahead and get the anesthesiologist. From my experience with Cam I thought that going from 6-10 could take as long as 4 or 5 hours so there was no way I thought I could make it that long. Turned out I was a little off on that, but I had no way of knowing that. Marilyn, the head nurse ordered the epidural. About that time my regular nurse came back and was informed of what was going on. By the time the anesthesiologist got there though, things had begun to change.

My contractions were now overlapping and getting extremely intense. The I-can’t-help-but-do-hyperventilating-breathing-and-moaning intense. They kicked Preston out to do the epidural and Kristen had me sit up and swing my legs over the side of the hospital bed so the doctor could have access to my back. I almost didn’t get my legs over the side, the contractions were shaking me so bad at this point. I couldn’t open my eyes and was doing everything in my power to just breathe. I remember being frustrated I didn’t have Preston’s hand to hold. About then Kristen took my hands and began talking me through every single contraction. The doctor said something to me and she told him I couldn’t talk because I was in the middle of transition. That popped my eyes open. I know what that means. Transition is the final stage before you push. Wasn’t I just at 6? Like 10 minutes ago? What in the world? That’s about all that got through my head before I squeezed my eyes shut again and my whole body started trembling. The doctor let me know he was going to do the numbing needle before the epidural but as soon as he started to inject the medicine, I had another contraction and my whole back started to spasm. The nurse helped hold me still – literally wrapping her arms all the way around me and holding me as tightly as possible to keep me still – but it was a little… uncomfortable… there for a while. Finally the doc to the epidural catheter in and I kept waiting for any relief. I was now in the end of transition and could barely breathe. I felt the cold rush of the epi medicine and….. nothing. Not one bit of relief. No numbness. No nothing. Except more extremely intense contractions. I got my legs back over and tried to get comfortable (ha!).

The anesthesiologist asked me if I could feel any change, and it took all my power to just shake my head no and keep breathing. The contractions felt like they were non-stop. And my husband still wasn’t allowed in the room yet. They told me it could take longer for it to kick in because of being in the end of transition. Great. 20 minutes of this? I decided – somehow – to try to be positive and not give into the feelings of no-way-in-heck-I-can-survive-this, instead telling myself I just had to do it. Yup, totally went all Nike on myself and kept repeating in my head “Just do it. Just do it. Just do it.” At some point, Preston was allowed to come back in and he was told that it hadn’t taken effect yet. The anesthesiologist left. I tried not to cry about that. What if I was one of those rare .02% of people for whom an epidural doesn’t work? No panicing, just do it, just do it, just do it….

By this point it was about 1:10pm. I had endured 30 minutes since the first drops of epidural pain medication with no relief, despite some numbing in my legs. Then Kristen made a call that I could have kissed her for right then and there. She called the anesthesiologist back. When he came back in a few minutes later, he took one look at me and pulled out another tube of that glorious medication. Kristen told him it had been 35 minutes and no effect so he gave me another dose. A double epidural. Hallelujah. I felt that cold rush of medicine again and prayed it would work.

More contractions, no effect. I resigned myself to the fact it wasn’t going to work for me. And then I noticed a small change. A small break in between the contractions with actual relief. I took every advantage of that to relaaaaaax every muscle in my body and take deeeeep breaths, striving again to find that semi-meditative yoga state I’d been able to do before. It was short and then more intense contractions, but there was that relief before. And within another 2 contractions, they started to change too. Within minutes, I knew it was working. I think I actually cracked a smile. The doc gave me the rest of the medication and prepared to leave. I had just talked through 2 contractions so everyone knew it was working. As soon as I knew that, I gave the nurse the ok to check my progress again. That was about 1:25pm. Kristen immediately let us know that I was “complete” and that the baby was at a +3 station. Then she jumped up and started calling the doctor (who was, naturally, in the OR at the time). She told me most definitely to NOT push. Because she was pretty sure all it would take is one. From 6cm and epidural to baby’s ready to be born was about 45 minutes (only about 20 minutes after it actually started to take effect).

About that time I let Kristen know that I was concerned I wouldn’t be able to push. Because no matter how hard I stared at my toes or willed my legs to move, I couldn’t get them to budge an inch. She smiled and said “Oh you’ll be fine. Trust me.”. So I did. Because let’s face it, I was feeling pretty good about then. I was out of pain and I was about to meet my baby girl. And way faster than I though. We waited for my doctor and they paged her a few more times. She got there as quick as she could and everything started happening very quickly. They had long since prepped for delivery, so the room was ready to go. The ceiling opened up and this super space age looking hydraulic system lowered an extra light down for the medical staff (which was really awesome). The nurses helped me move my legs and it was go time. Within just a few minutes, I heard my baby girl’s loud and quite insistent voice filling the room. I swear I could feel my heart doubling in size to make room for how much I already love her. They handed her to me and I had to laugh out loud (while also crying a little bit). She’s here and she’s DARK. And she seriously looks just like me (and my mom). And she has a lot of hair. She couldn’t be more different than Cameron was when he was born.

One of the best changes at Holy Cross since I had Cam was the addition of what they call the “Golden Hour”. After the baby is born, the medical staff double check everything’s ok, but then they leave and let mom, dad, and baby bond for about an hour before coming back to do things like first bath, weighing, measuring, etc. In our case, we actually had about 90 minutes. It was honestly really awesome. Once they did come in to do all the new baby stuff, it was time to move me to postpartum. Preston stayed with her and they joined me in our new room before long. Watching him with her has made my heart nearly burst on several occasions too. There is nothing like watching my husband hold and love on his kids to make me melt. I know it’s not the most traditionally romantic thing a guy can do, but there’s something about it that just squeezes the heart and make me fall in love with him all over again. Only like 10x stronger than the day I married him and saw him standing at the end of the isle. It’s visceral. It’s profound. And it’s completely relationship/marriage/mind/heart/soul altering.

Recovery has gone smoothly, and less than 36 hours after we left for the hospital, we were headed home with our new daughter. Labor was only 6 hrs 15 minutes and probably would have been under 6 hours had my (amazing) doctor not been in the OR when I was ready to push. The nurses told me I’m the “envy of all the women who come in here” because of how smoothly and quickly things went – especially for an inducement – and even my own doctor told me I should have like 5 more kids because I’m “so good at this” (don’t get any ideas Mom…). I was even warned that if I have another one and happen to go into labor naturally, I’d be “that woman” who has the baby in the car on the way to the hospital. Adjusting hasn’t been a cake walk, but all in all, it’s gone smoother than I thought it would go. Can’t wait to see what the coming weeks and months (and years!) hold for us!

Well, technically, the obsession never left. But it had definitely started to decline. We could go whole days without mention of B.E.L.L.S. I think we might have even gone nearly a full week without having to watch You Tube videos of bells ringing. So we thought we were safe to take Cam to “go see the bells at the mission” while we were up in Solvang. I mean, c’mon, Santa Ines mission is right there on the edge of town and they’re bound to have a few bells and won’t he think that’s cool?…. big mistake. Well, maybe not mistake, but we really should have thought it through. Because there are bells EVERYWHERE. Every sign is in the shape of a bell. The little El Camino Real markers are bells. There are huge bells on the front of the mission. There’s a bell right outside the gift shop. And on and on… He couldn’t have been happier, that’s for sure. Until we had to leave. Which resulted in the biggest melt-down in Cameron history to date. Kicking, screaming, tantrum-throwing, wild-leg-flailing-while-daddy-holds-me-and-tries-to-get-me-back-to-the-car type melt down. Oh so fun. And since then? Non. Stop. Bells.

*Sigh*

At least we’re stocked up on bells and bell-like objects. This is going to be last a while longer I think…

I’m so not here right now. Well, ok, I am, but here here is Solvang, CA currently. In a hotel room. Ok, technically I’m in Buellton, but it’s more or less the same thing. But I’m not totally tuned in right now. I’m officially on maternity leave right now – because I’m 38 wks pregnant now – having FINALLY stopped shooting as of Wednesday of this week. Yup. Shot up to 38 wks. Seeing as how last time I stopped shooting around 32, well, I feel pretty good about lasting this long. Of course, it didn’t occur to me until about 2 days ago that this may have been a serious mistake. Not so much because of the physical side of it (though I get a lot of looks, believe me), but because of the mental/emotional side. I haven’t really let myself really think about the fact that I’m just days away from becoming a mother of two. My sweet little man up there is about to have his whole life totally and completely (and permanently) altered by this soon-to-arrive new bundle. I’ve found myself wishing I’d taken just a little more time, put my foot down just a little more with all the last-minute bookings, so I could spend more time with him, do more things as our little family of three, before all my energy and time is zapped away by my newborn daughter.

Not going to lie, I’m seriously worried about how Cameron is going to handle this. He’s not only our only child right now, but he’s the only grandchild on BOTH sides. He’s never had to share the adults in his life and he’s been pretty happy about that. I have no doubts he’ll be requesting that we take Elena back probably right away. And I’d be lying if a part of me isn’t feeling a little bad for him. I have never had those moments of “will I love her as much as I love my son”. I know my heart will expand. But I am worried that Cam won’t understand, won’t get it, won’t feel how much I adore him – at least not as much as he deserves. How do I explain to a 3 year old who has never had to share mommy and daddy that he’s the love of my life?

My husband could see the hormone-driven train wreck coming. He whisked us three away up to Solvang to join his parents for a few days of mini-vacation because he knew, KNEW, that we needed this. Desperately. Despite poor Cam-man’s current state (he bit threw 3 places on his tongue, scraped up his chin – which got uber infected – right before we left and now has ended up sick with a mild fever and cold like symptoms since arriving here), he’s been sooo happy. He’s loved getting to spend time with his Grandma and Oppa plus having Mommy + Daddy (and sharing the “BIIIIIG BED” at the hotel – a new concept for him). He’s truly a happy kid and though he won’t likely remember life before his sister arrived, I’m glad that I will. I’m glad that I’ll have these last few days – week + if I’m lucky according to the doc – before it’s all different again.

I’m frantically trying to get all my editing/computer work caught up and DONE (hopefully all this weekend) so I can really and truly focus on my family a bit before it all changes but I’m not 100% convinced at this point that I’m going to make it. Between contractions and dilation, it’s a good bet that this baby girl is coming early so who knows. But in the meantime, I just want to soak this time up. And hug my husband a little harder for knowing exactly what we needed.

Special shout out to Boho Weddings who published the feature today – which you can see right here – and to all the wonderful people involved in making the shoot happen:

Concept + Florals: Lindsay – Petalicious Flowers
Styling + vintage rentals: Emilee of Tasteful Tatters/Treasures
Photography: Yours truly
Custom Jewelry, cuff, + headpiece: Christy Klein of CK ORIGINALS
Paper Products + Stationary: The Pomegranate Basket
Makeup: Makeup by Erika J
Hair: Kelly Demoz
Models: Marisol Guizar + Ryan Martin

And so I proudly call myself a LIFE photographer. Finally, I feel like I have a website that says that too.

Take a look, leave a comment (you can do it right there on the website!) and feel free to give me any/all feedback you want to! Can’t wait for the coming expansions too (can you say video?). And thanks!

But my favorite moments are still the unexpected ones. I’m just glad I put in all that work so I’m always ready to capture them when they happen.