When I was three or four years old, I remember sitting on the hood of my dad’s 1979 Ford F-250 beside my twin sister, Tori. It was late at night, and bright headlights illuminated the catching pen where the veterinarian was helping one of our cows struggling through labor. We truly had the best seats in the house. I watched in complete awe as they worked carefully to deliver the calf and make sure the mama cow was safe. That moment became my very first memory of being fascinated by birth.
In the years that followed, I was often assigned small but important roles during calving season—holding the flashlight, fetching supplies, or even holding a tail when needed. I took every job seriously and with pride, knowing that even in a small way, I was helping a mama during one of the most stressful moments of her life. Those early experiences quietly planted a seed in my heart.
Fast forward to the late 1990s and early 2000s, when a show called A Baby Story aired on TLC. The show followed couples through the final weeks of pregnancy and into the delivery room, and I was completely hooked. On days when TLC aired marathon episodes, I would sit and watch for hours, captivated by every story and every birth. My fascination only grew stronger.
A few years later, when I was 16, my oldest sister, Stephanie, was pregnant. Suddenly, A Baby Story was no longer just something on TV—it was happening in real life. I loved feeling my niece kick, watching my sister’s belly grow, and soaking up every detail about pregnancy she was willing to share. One day, while sitting in chemistry class, I felt my phone vibrate inside my book bag. I sneaked a look and saw a message from my mom.
“Your sister is at the hospital. Your niece is on the way!” it read.
I was far too excited to focus on chemistry after that, and my parents agreed to let me leave school early. My sister graciously allowed me to stay in the delivery room as she gave birth. With joyful tears streaming down my face, I witnessed the miracle of new life entering the world. In that moment, I knew without a doubt what I wanted to do with my life. I was also deeply impressed by the compassion and skill of the hospital staff, and I knew I wanted to be part of that world someday.
During my senior year of high school, while most of my classmates were heading to class first thing in the morning, I was on my way to the Athens Regional Midwifery clinic for an internship. Through a work-based learning program, I spent my mornings at the clinic and my afternoons at school. I learned the importance of prenatal care and the various tests needed throughout pregnancy. Sometimes I was able to observe in-office procedures, and other times—my favorite moments—I went to the hospital to watch deliveries. That experience solidified my desire to pursue nursing.
After graduating high school, I went to college alongside my twin sister, Tori. We attended the University of West Georgia our freshman year, then returned home to Athens for our sophomore year and two additional years of nursing school at Piedmont College. Throughout nursing school, Tori and I leaned heavily on each other. We studied together, drove to class together, and sometimes even shared clinical rotations. On days when we didn’t, we would come home and talk through everything we had seen and learned. Having my twin sister and best friend by my side during such a stressful time was a blessing I will always be grateful for.
Toward the end of nursing school, I applied for and 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 strengthen my general nursing knowledge and skills, and the ER was the perfect place. After four years there, I felt ready for a change. The elevator to labor and delivery was located right outside the ER, and I often watched pregnant women pass through the waiting room on their way upstairs. It was a constant reminder of where my heart truly belonged. When a position opened in labor and delivery, I immediately updated my résumé and applied. I was thrilled to be interviewed—and even more excited when I was offered the job. My dream was finally becoming reality.
I was beyond excited for my first day in labor and delivery. On the drive home, I called family members one by one, eager to share how amazing the day had been. The NICU, where Tori works, is connected to labor and delivery by a hallway with large double doors. During my second week, I saw Tori 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’ mother. I couldn’t wait to share the news. When I met her, I said, “Guess what? I have something to tell you!”
“I’m a twin, and my twin sister works in the NICU,” I explained. “We’re both going to be there for the delivery of your twins.”
It was a day I will never forget. After the babies were born, I made quick trips to the NICU just to check on the girls—and, of course, to see my sister. During the delivery, looking across the operating room and seeing my twin sister there brought me so much comfort. I have immense respect for the NICU staff and all they do for those precious babies.
Working in labor and delivery has always been my dream, even before nursing school. Being able to live that dream alongside my best friend makes it even more meaningful and sweet.
