11/03/2026
Oh man, where oh where do I even begin with this journey?
Perhaps with the prequel.
Here we go. Buckle up, because this one might just pull at your heartstrings. ❤️
Back in August of 2025, I found myself sitting in the waiting area at Sacred Heart Hospital with my client’s mom while my client was being evaluated in triage.
It felt like we had been sitting there forever. Mostly silence, with a little chatter here and there.
As I sat with my head down, I suddenly heard this infectious laugh. Two gal pals just chattin’ it up, having themselves a good ol’ time.
Naturally, I looked up.
And there stood one of the prettiest young women I’d ever seen, with a smile and laugh that could light up an entire room.
I couldn’t tell you what was said or even how we struck up a conversation, but somehow it ended with us exchanging phone numbers and her telling me, “My next baby, I’ll be calling you!”
We eventually went our separate ways. Me, back to my client, and her, to find out whether her water had broken.
Little did either of us know just how much that seemingly random encounter would come to mean.
Fast forward to March 2026.
I received a text.
“Hi Danni, this is Jesse. We met in late August before my son Hudson was born. I’ve thought about you since then and remembered how kind and comforting you were.”
She went on to tell me that Hudson had been born on August 26th and that, heartbreakingly, they had lost their sweet boy in the NICU on September 13th.
She shared pieces of their story, the unimaginable heartbreak their family had experienced, and then told me she was pregnant again, due November 13th.
And she wanted me to be their doula.
Here was this woman, reaching out with her heart on her sleeve, inviting me into one of the most vulnerable chapters of her life.
How could I say anything but yes?
Without sharing the deeply personal details of their journey, I will say this:
Watching Jesse navigate pregnancy after living through a mother’s worst fear, while Tanner walked beside her, was one of the most profound experiences I’ve had in birth work.
This wasn’t about replacing what had been lost or moving on from Hudson. It was about making room for another story, another life, another little person to love, while carrying Hudson with them every step of the way.
And goodness, did Jesse fight hard for this pregnancy and this baby.
There were fears, uncertainties, difficult moments, and so many emotions that came with getting to this point. But there was also laughter, excitement, hope, and an incredible amount of love.
Fast forward again to November 2nd.
I’d just gotten home after spending several hours backing up a fellow doula. I showered, ate something, and finally crawled into bed.
At exactly 9:25 p.m., just as my head hit the pillow, my phone rang.
Was this THE call?
Well, I wasn’t entirely sure, but I answered.
Yep. It was THE CALL. 😂
So, back into my birth clothes I went, and off I flew (I wish) to Sacred Heart.
There I met Jesse, her husband Tanner, and her mom, Amber.
Jesse worked through wave after wave of contractions until that beautiful epidural was placed, bringing some much-needed relief and an opportunity to rest.
And after only a few hours, she was complete!
Knowing Jesse had a history of bringing babies earthside rather promptly, we made sure the doctor was headed our way.
The room grew quiet.
Peaceful.
Full of anticipation.
Oh, and did I mention they didn’t know the gender?!
Grandma Amber got gowned up, I grabbed a leg, and Tanner stayed right beside Jesse, offering that steady reassurance and love.
It was time.
All the fighting, worrying, hoping, tears, laughter, and anticipation of the last several months had led to this moment.
And after just ten minutes of pushing, Jesse welcomed her third baby earthside.
Grandma Amber had the honor of catching her grandbaby and announcing the gender.
A GIRL! 🩷
A sweet, tiny little lady.
At 4:03 a.m. on November 3rd, beautiful Wrenly made her entrance into the world.
And let me tell you, there wasn’t a dry eye in that room.
We all knew, in our own ways, what it had taken for Jesse and Tanner to reach this moment.
To see them holding their daughter, hearing her cry, and finally getting to exhale after so many months of uncertainty was something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
It was beautiful. It was emotional. It was everything.
And somewhere in all of it, there was still a little boy who was so deeply loved and so very much a part of this family’s story.
One thing I try to remind myself with every birth I attend is that being a doula isn’t just about the hip squeezes, the late-night texts, the honey sticks, or the affirmations.
Sometimes it’s simply about being.
Being a presence.
A listening ear.
A sounding board.
A steady hand.
A friend.
Someone who can sit with a family in their most vulnerable moments without needing to fix everything or find the perfect words.
Someone who can hold space for grief and joy to exist in the very same room.
Because sometimes, that’s what support looks like.
And sometimes, those are the moments that change us as birth workers.
Jesse, Tanner, big sister Harper, angel brother Hudson, and sweet little Wrenly…
From the bottom of my heart to the tips of my toes, I am so incredibly moved by each and every one of you.
Thank you for trusting me, for letting me walk alongside you, and for allowing me to be a small part of such a deeply personal and meaningful chapter of your lives.
You have all carved out a very special place in my heart, and I don’t think that will ever change.
And as I drove home this morning, exhausted, emotional, and trying to process everything we’d just experienced, I looked up and saw the most gorgeous sunrise.
The kind that makes you stop for a second and just take it all in.
And I couldn’t help but smile and quietly say…
“Hello, Hudson. Congratulations, big brother.” 🤍
