The Birth of Wyatt Everest
"When I sit down to try to write about my son’s birth, it seems so clinical, like I am just reciting facts, something that happened so someone else. It’s a funny thing about having a baby. Most people want to know stats and numbers: how much did he weigh, how long he was, how long were you in labor, what procedures did you need to have in order to get him out.
What we don’t really talk about, probably because it feels impossible to express, is the searing, white-hot pain where you feel like you body is splitting wide open and your’e not really there in the moment because if you were completly present you couldn’t bare it….
A week ago, I thought I might be going into labor. The cramps were tight and frequent and my belly felt heavy, like an invisible weight was pushing from the top and bottom. I tried to time a few contractions but couldn’t tell where they stopped and started. I decided to walk through it and see if they got worse. I made jambalaya for dinner, all the while watching the storm tracker on my phone to make sure the tornadoes on the radar stayed far away. The last thing I needed was the stress of going into labor in the middle of a storm. The cooking process slowed down the contractions and I knew then it wasn’t time. The tornado watch was lifted and I felt a sense of relief. The next day was Friday and I would be 39 weeks, the day I had guessed he’d come. I figured I was wrong and still had some time.
I woke up at 4:30 am with pretty heavy cramping. I got up, peed, ate a granola bar, and realized there was a rhythm to my contractions. My contraction timer app confirmed it: 9 minutes apart. Jean-Thomas woke up and asked if I was ok. I replied,
“We were right. Looks like we’re having our son today.”
By 7:30 contractions were at 7 minutes apart, so I got up to get ready. My 3-year-old Aurelia ran into the room. I told her that her brother was coming today, and she exclaimed,
“Is it the 4th of July?! Yay! I am so exciting!!”
Jean-Thomas fixed us scrambled eggs and toast which I inhaled hungrily with watermelon and pineapple. Contractions averaged 5 minutes apart , so I called my midwife, Cheryl, and we headed out. Aurelia stayed with my mother-in-law. I got all emotional saying goodbye when it hit me it would be her last day as our only child.
The drive to the birthing center was about 30 minutes. Once I got in the car, my contractions slowed down to 10 minutes apart. I was worried that I’d called too early and it was just gonna fizzle out and we’d have to turn around and go home. But Jean-Thomas reminded me (again) to breathe, and once I relaxed they picked back up to 5 minutes…. just as we pulled in. We headed inside to the birthing center. I changed into something comfy and got set up in the room. Cheryl and LaQuita checked me and I was already 5cm dilated. Relief swept over me. Wyatt was on his way.
I labored for awhile. Walked around, tried different positions. By 12:30 or so I was hungry for more than snacks, so Jean-Thomas called his parents who dropped off Chic-fil-A for us. I ate that original sandwich with no pickles and Polynesian sauce quickly, knowing it was about to get intense. I was right."
To read more of Brooke's story and see sweet pictures of her baby boy continue to her blog here!