When I was three or four, I remember sitting on the hood of my dad’s 1979 Ford F250 with my twin sister, Tori. It was late at night, and the truck’s headlights cast long beams over the catching pen, where the vet was trying to help one of our cows who was having a difficult labor. We had the best seat in the house. I watched, wide-eyed, as they carefully worked to deliver the calf while ensuring the mama was safe and calm. That moment became my very first memory of being fascinated with birth.
As I grew older, my role in these deliveries became more hands-on. I was often designated as the flashlight holder, the supply retriever, or the holder of the tail. Every job, no matter how small, I did with pride. Even then, I understood that I was helping a mama through a stressful, critical moment—and that feeling of being part of something so important was thrilling.
Fast forward to the late 1990s and early 2000s, and TLC aired a show called A Baby Story. This program followed couples through the end of pregnancy and into the delivery room. I was hooked. Sometimes, they’d run marathons of the show, and I would watch for hours, captivated by every moment of new life entering the world.
A few years later, when I was sixteen, my oldest sister, Stephanie, became pregnant. Suddenly, my fascination with birth became real-life experience. I loved feeling my niece kick and move inside her mom’s belly and absorbing every bit of knowledge Stephanie shared about pregnancy. Then one day, while I was sitting in chemistry class, my phone vibrated inside my backpack. Sneaking a peek, I saw a text from my mom:
“Your sister is at the hospital. Your niece is on the way!”
I was so excited I could barely concentrate on chemistry. My parents agreed to let me leave school early, and I rushed to be with Stephanie.
She graciously allowed me to stay in the delivery room with her. Tears of joy streamed down my face as I witnessed the miracle of life, and in that instant, I knew without a doubt what I wanted to do when I grew up. I was deeply impressed by the care Stephanie received from the hospital staff and felt a calling to be part of that world someday.
By my senior year of high school, while most of my classmates were heading straight to their first-period classes, I was making my way to the Athens Regional Midwifery clinic for my internship. I participated in a work-based learning program, spending my mornings at the clinic and attending classes in the afternoons. There, I learned the importance of prenatal care, the various tests performed during pregnancy, and sometimes, I even observed in-office procedures. My favorite moments, however, were when I was allowed to go to the hospital and witness deliveries firsthand. Those experiences solidified my passion for nursing and confirmed my desire to work with mothers and babies.
After graduating high school, I began college alongside my twin, Tori. We started at the University of West Georgia, then returned home to Athens for our sophomore year and our two years of nursing school at Piedmont College. Throughout that time, Tori and I were a strong support system for each other. We studied together, commuted together, and on occasion attended clinical rotations together. Even on days when our assignments differed, we’d come home and share the highlights and challenges of the day. Having my sister and best friend by my side during such an intense and stressful journey was a true blessing.
Towards the end of nursing school, I applied for—and later accepted—a position in the emergency department at Piedmont Athens, then known as Athens Regional Medical Center. As a new graduate nurse, I wanted a role that would help me strengthen my general nursing skills, and the ER provided that opportunity. After four years, though, I felt ready for a change. Just outside the ER was an elevator leading to labor and delivery, and I would often watch pregnant women make their way toward it. It was a constant reminder of the career I had always dreamed of. When a position in L&D opened, I immediately updated my resume and applied. The moment I was offered the job, my dream of becoming a labor and delivery nurse was finally coming true.
I’ll never forget my first day in labor and delivery. Driving home that evening, I called everyone in my family to share how wonderful it had been. The NICU, where Tori works, is connected to L&D by a hallway with two large double doors. During my second week on the job, I happened to see her in the hall.
“I’m going to the delivery of twin girls today!” she told me.
Later, I was assigned as the nurse for the twins’ mom. I was thrilled to tell her and her family that both my twin and I would be present for the delivery. “Guess what?!” I said.
“What?” the mom asked.
“I’m a twin, and my sister works in the NICU,” I explained. “We’re both going to be here for the birth of your twins!”
That day is etched in my memory forever. After the delivery, I would make short trips to the NICU just to visit the babies—and, of course, to see Tori. Being able to work alongside my sister in bringing new life into the world was incredibly special.
Looking across the OR and seeing my twin by my side reminded me of the journey I had taken—from sitting on the hood of Dad’s truck as a wide-eyed child, to walking into that delivery room as a nurse. I have immense respect for the NICU staff and all they do for these precious babies. But most of all, I feel profound gratitude for the path that brought me here. Working in labor and delivery, alongside my best friend and twin sister, is not just my dream come true—it’s the fulfillment of a lifelong calling.
