August 2, 2025

Under the Shooting Stars — Indie’s Birth Story

A year ago, under a sky full of shooting stars, a girl named Indie James came into the world.

It’s wild how time moves — how one day you’re timing contractions in the middle of the night and the next you’re watching that same baby with a big toothy grin learn to walk.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that night lately. Her first birthday is here, and I can feel it in my bones — the memory of it, the weight of it, the way everything just magically fell into place when she arrived.

We planned for a home birth. A birthing pool on our back patio, fairy lights twinkling overhead, warm water, soft voices. There’s something sacred about being at home — the comfort, the slowness, the knowing of it all. And while people hear “she was born in the backyard” and think it was something wild and rugged, it was actually the most peaceful experience.

I had done this once before. Tinsley, now five, was born naturally in a hospital. It was a beautiful experience in its own right, but after that I knew: next time, I wanted to be home and fully commit in trusting myself and body to do what women are born to. When I found out I was due in August, I knew immediately I wanted to have an outside water birth in our backyard. We have poured our hearts and lots of sweat into our backyard which has matured into quite an oasis itself.

After a late night dinner at my parents next door I walked home and immediately I knew things felt different. Within a couple hours by midnight I was fully contracting and labor was coming on quick. Indie was ready. I called my midwife, and my husband moved into action like we’d discussed setting up and filling the birth tub with warm water. But one thing didn’t go according to plan — our birth photographer was out of town. So I made the call to my brother Dawson who takes all of our real estate photography, who lived next door at the time. I’m not sure what he expected when he picked up the phone just after midnight, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that. He actually argued that there was no way I was really in labor because he had just seen me at dinner two hours prior. (We’ve since decided that what he saw in those hours is to be held in the vault forever. 😂)

And still, it couldn’t have been more perfect. He captured some of the most incredible photos of Indie’s arrival. Fitting, really — that the two of them share a middle name. James.

At 4:00 a.m., Indie arrived. The world was still. The sky was clear. My body had done what it was made to do.

And Tinsley? She got to witness it all. At just five years old, she saw her little sister come into the world with her own tired eyes after desperately falling in and out of sleep for hours waiting for her sister to arrive. I can only imagine what that did in her — the power of seeing birth firsthand, the strength of a woman, the miracle of it all. I hope it stays with her forever.

This past year has been nothing like the first time around. Indie is not Tinsley. They are night and day.

Tinsley was my calm, quiet baby — along for the ride. Indie? Indie came out with opinions. She’s vocal, strong-willed, and doesn’t hesitate to make her presence known. (Honestly, I probably should’ve seen that coming when we named her.) Sometimes we call her our little hulk-baby when she’s got her grip on something she doesn’t want to let go.

Watching our family shift and stretch to make room for her has been beautiful. Watching Tinsley slowly warm to her little sister, the way she lights up when Indie laughs, the way Indie tries to copy everything she does. It’s becoming a rhythm, and we’re finding our way.

And, like every woman in this house, she’s already head over heels for her dad. Get in line, girl. We all are.

Happy birthday, Indie James. You came in with strength, under stars, surrounded by love. We can’t wait to keep watching you become.