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We were able to pay my daughter's friends to help us move everything next door. The move went relatively well. We loved the house! All the extra space made us feel so much more at home. It was the nicest place we had ever lived.

My daughter was able to move on to the next competition. This time she'd be competing against adults and master's level college kids as well. She got 2nd place, securing another $3,000. She decided to start looking at business as a potential college major. We were so proud of her.

I soon made it to the point my cerclage could be removed. It was quite painful this time. We knew there was a chance I could immediately start dilating and go into labor. We waited for a few hours at the hospital, but nothing. I was released. Everything still looked good.

Work was becoming more and more difficult. I was so tired all the time and so uncomfortable. Every step took effort. Everything ached. I was so grateful the baby was now considered to be out of danger and so ready to no longer be pregnant!

I took a nice long bath and woke up to my water breaking at 6 a.m. I waited and waited, but no contractions. I called my doctor's office when they opened and they asked me to come on in. They checked me around 10 a.m. and verified I had begun dilating. I wanted to go home and wait until the contractions got stronger. We only lived 10 minutes from the hospital. They were adamant it could happen quickly and sent me to the hospital instead.

Of course, it didn't happen quickly. Labor went on for hours. Again I declined meds as long as I could stand it. Finally, I was shaking so bad in pain, I decided to give the epideral another try. Once again, several tries to finally get it in correctly, then nothing. It didn't help at all.

Finally the doctor checked me and said I was dilated to 7. In misery, I told him she was coming. He said if I felt like I needed to push I should try. As soon as I started pushing I immidiately dialted to 10 and she was on her way. I couldn't continue. I had nothing left.

He then took my hand and pulled it forward. I felt this tiny little head. He told me she couldn't stay like that long, safely. It was kind of scary, but it was the motivation I needed. I pushed 2-3 more times and it was over. She was beautiful! She was healthy and so very perfect. We named her Mallory, and combined my husband's mother Janet and Grandmother Geneva's names for her middle name Janeva.

I'll never forget watching our other children take turns holding her for the 1st time. This beautiful, wrinkled little creature, that was actually living inside my body just moments before. God had once again got us through another milestone in our lives and we were leaving there with our family complete.