brandyglows

My water broke around 8am Wednesday morning.

I was in bed, half asleep. Drenched in amniotic fluid and now wide awake, I rolled out of my newly ruined sheets, wishing I had thought to take the memory foam off before that moment.

Tumbling my way toward the shower, I cleaned myself off as best and as fast as I could. Nerves shot through me as I considered the logical next step. I’m not exactly sure what I decided. Whatever it was, I ended up standing naked in the tub with my phone but not my glasses.

I pushed the screen up to my nose until I could make out the numbers to dial. I called Jermaine first. No answer.

Deep breath. I promised myself this was not reason to worry. He didn’t have access to his phone at work. But I could call his office at 9am. He wasn’t going to miss the birth.

I called my midwife, Donna, next. She was as calm and reassuring as ever. She had some house calls to make, but she would stop by after 10am to check on me. She told me to go on about my normal morning.

Ha.

I tried. I located my glasses, a t-shirt and a pair of comfy sweats. I made coffee and ate some cereal. I woke up Sadie. She said she wasn’t ready to have a baby just yet, but I could tell she was excited. The house was full of nerves.

I called all the parents and my best friends. I texted some more loved ones. I couldn’t bring myself to post on Facebook. It felt private, somehow. I wanted to enjoy these moments with the people who know me best.

I drank my coffee too quickly. I still hadn’t gotten a hold of Jermaine, and I was starting to panic. Thankfully, he’d left his phone list roster on his dresser that morning. I called Jana, his partner at work. I called his commander! Neither woman answered. I left awkward messages about breaking water and needing my husband. I scanned the list for a name I recognized. Finally I found Daniel. I’d met him when Jermaine was at AIT. I dialed hopefully.

“Hello?” Oh, thank God he answered!

“Hi, is this Daniel? This is Walker’s Wife.”

“Oh, hi there. How are you doing?”

“I’m, er, okay. Heh, my water just broke.”

“Oh, shit!”

As it turned out, Jermaine and the rest of his company were all in a Change of Command Ceremony. Daniel had to drive over and physically get him.

Daniel’s wife called to let me know her husband had found Jermaine. I called him and he was out of breath! Apparently, after they told him, he’d just started running toward the car.

###

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I lit the amber vanilla candle I’d been saving for Brooklyn’s birth. Sadie, Jermaine and I watched Chocolat and ate chocolate kisses. Donna came and checked my cervix. I had dilated to three centimeters. The examination was excruciating. And it scared me. If it was so painful, how on earth would I survive a baby coming through that space?

I was an emotional wreck. I didn’t feel ready, but I just wanted it to happen. Donna said that 90% of moms go into labor 24 hours after their water breaks.

I woke up Thursday morning with a sigh. I guess I was in the lucky 10%.

My morale was extremely low. Donna wasn’t concerned about the water loss. There was still more surrounding him. And he made more all the time. But I couldn’t shake my nerves. In some ways, I felt like I’d messed it up for him. Water breaking that early (I was 38 weeks)  usually meant momma had some poor nutritional habits.

Was he ready? Was he safe? I couldn’t stop crying. Donna made me Skype her.

She has such a calming presence. I felt better just seeing her face. She doesn’t worry. She told me to get out my breast pump – a labor stimulator. She promised to bring by a herb mixture called black and blue Kohosh to encourage contractions.

Awful stuff. Tastes like liquid dirt. But damn, it worked.

Active labor officially got kicking around 1pm. Donna and her assistant Karen arrived at 2pm. I was already tired. I told Donna I was having some back pain.

“Yep. Those are probably contractions.” In my back. Awesome.

By 3pm, I was between four and five centimeters. I took a beautifully hot shower; they filled the birth pool. In our own ways, we all mentally prepared to have a baby. The shower rejuvenated me. And the pool was even better. I sat in the hot water for couple hours, contracting. Donna asked for the story of how Jermaine and I met. I asked what had led her to Fayetteville. We shared our epic tales, bonded, breathed, mingled love and pain.

Oh, and she fed us Boston Market. Yum!

She checked me again around 8pm. We were all disappointed to discover that I was not yet at six centimeters. She offered two options. We could do some hardcore moving, squatting and walking to try to really get things going OR I could take a shot of Vodka and a Benadryl. It would slow down the contractions but make them more effective. We could all get a couple of hours of sleep and hope it kicked me into transition.

You can probably guess which I chose.

It was so hot in bed. They placed ice-cold wash cloths on my neck and forehead. Jermaine lay behind me. With each contraction, I’d have him “do the twisty thingies” – applying pressure on the sides of my lower back and twisting up with his palms to relieve some of the pain. We’d fall back asleep in between contractions, a strange combination of exhaustion and rest.

At some point he started asking me if I wanted him to get Donna, who’d gone to sleep with Sadie in the other room. I couldn’t figure out why he was asking. I knew the contractions were getting stronger, but because I was falling asleep in between, I didn’t realize they were now roughly two minutes apart. Finally at about 11:30pm, when they came so often I could no longer sleep, I agreed.

Poor Donna! She looked so tired! I should have told her, Sadie would never sleep at 8pm – she’s usually up until 10 or 11pm. And this particular night, with her excitement threatening to make her burst, no sleep was a certainty.

They boiled water to reheat the pool. Donna checked my cervix one last time. I screamed in the agony of back contractions and a fist inside of me.

“You’re at eight centimeters!” She exclaimed. I tried to feel grateful, excited, but man, it hurt!

As the water cooked, Jermaine helped me get through more contractions in bed. He never complained. He never took a break. He simply and silently did what I needed.  When the water was hot enough, they helped me back into the pool. He rushed around, re-lighting the candle, finding sweet soft music to play, and then climbing into the pool himself, because I needed him to do “the twisty thingies.” We both hoped it would be over soon.

Three hours later . . .

My contractions were less than a minute apart. I started pushing around 1am. The angel inside of me was a stargazing baby – which meant his head was face up and his noggin was right up against my pelvic bone. It hurt so much to push! I felt physically unable for the first hour. Donna urged me to do my contractions in a standing squat position. I told her I didn’t want to, but I did it anyway. My legs shook; I focused on controlling my breathing. Deep breathing, a reassuring midwife, an endlessly patient husband – that’s what got me through it.

Sadie stayed in her room most of the night watching Netflix. She’d come out to check on me every so often and then go back to her movie. I didn’t like it when she tried to comfort me. The role reversal made me uneasy. I wanted to console her.

Even with the squats, I couldn’t get him to crown. I finally gave in to the pain, letting it engulf my lower back so that I could push. They told me I was doing well, but nothing came of my work for a very long time.

Finally, Donna made me get out of the pool to push. On the birth stool, in my room, I finally felt that burning ring of fire. It hurt so much I felt no relief.

Then, with my child’s head positioned as an upside down crown, she wanted to get me back in the pool! 

I still don’t know how they did it. It took all three of them – Donna, Karen and Jermaine – and they must have had to all but carry me.

Back in the pool, on the stool, I felt that blasted fiery ring three times. And each time, in between contractions, my little Brooklyn baby would pop back into my uterus.

I don’t know how I coaxed him into staying. I don’t think either of us liked the feeling. Pushing his head through hurt worse than the fire. I felt his facial features! And I thought the flames would subside once we got to his torso. But it was almost just as painful.

“Brandy, reach down and pull out your baby!” Donna smiled broadly.

“I can’t! I can’t! I don’t have the strength!” I howled.

At some point in this madness, they called Sadie to watch. Donna pulled out my baby boy and put him to my chest. I held him tight and I could hear Jermaine sobbing behind me. I noticed the water was now bright red. Sadie ran to get her phone.

At 4am, four minutes after our baby’s birth, she started down her list: Jermaine’s parents, mine, my birth mom, my best friends.

Somehow, they got us back out of the pool and into my bed. Sadie cut the cord and Donna gave her a tutorial about the significance and non-yuckiness of the placenta. At 5am, I had to tell my still wide awake nine-year-old it was time she went to bed. Donna spoon fed me yogurt. I felt hungry for the first time since my contractions started. Not that they hadn’t made sure I’d eaten every three hours. My tummy had been lovingly filled with good-for-me protein, water and Gatorade throughout my entire labor.

The heat and exhaustion brought my blood pressure down and my temperature up. Donna gave me Ibuprofen and stitched up where I’d torn. She propped me up on pillows (no small task considering my absolutely raw tailbone) and we attempted our first breastfeeding endeavor. Beautifully, he latched on almost right away.

While we rested, Donna and Karen got to work cleaning up. I don’t think they left before 7am. They must have been so tired! On her way out the door, Karen gushed about how well Jermaine and I worked together. Oh, thank God for my husband.

She said my labor had been unusually painful. She was impressed by my strength. I didn’t feel strong. But I knew in that moment how much Brooklyn meant to me. If I had to, I’d do it all over again.

I was slightly afraid to fall asleep. Afraid this nightmare turned dream might fade if I did. But sleep found me eventually. And when I awoke later that morning, on September 9th 2011, I was still the proud momma of a perfect 8lb, 20 inch baby boy.

Amen means “So be it.” And so I say, loud and grateful, Amen, dear God, Amen.