Charlie’s Birth Story
By His Mommy
Growing
up, I always envisioned having three children. It was the perfect number to me.
Even when we were dating in college, Clay and I joked about someday having
three bald headed babies of our own, although he said he would be content to
just have one (HA!). When we got married on a ridiculously rainy night in
September of 2000, Clay and I had no intentions of having an enormous family of
six. No way as we stood in front of hundreds of people saying our vows, just
babies ourselves at 21 and 22, were we considering a half dozen kids! In
hindsight, this ignorance about our future was clearly part of God’s meticulous
plan. Otherwise, we both might never have signed up for a life of unrelenting
chaos together.
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| My note to Clay from 1999. |
After a decade of marriage, Clay was sold on the idea of three children and that’s exactly how many boys we had by 2011. But then 19 months after boy number three was born came our girly surprise number four, and two years later sweet number five made her debut. We were thrilled, very crazy, and busy enough that we didn’t have any extra time to consider adding to our herd.
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| Our Herd in 2016 |
In
October of 2016, Clay and I traveled to Cancun. Without any kids to interrupt our
conversations or to distract us, we sat on the beach and seriously talked about
making a final decision concerning any future kids. We decided that when we got
home that Clay would schedule a vasectomy. That was our sincere plan (we meant
it for real this time!), but life got hectic when we got back from our vacation,
and the appointment reminder collected dust on Clay’s to-do list.
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| Kidless in Cancun |
After
our trip, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s flew by with all
the family traditions and madness those holidays include. In January, we had a
mid-month ER visit for Amelia-Grace, and I was just cautious enough not to
follow her back into the room while she received a chest x-ray. 99% unconcerned
that I could be preggo again, I nevertheless stood outside in the hospital
hallway and made the nurses promise not to tell my mother that there was any
chance whatsoever that I might be pregnant. They just laughed and said it
wasn’t their story to tell.
By the
end of January, I noticed that I was starting to feel a little off with just a
hint of nausea during the first half of the day. Coffee, my favorite morning necessity,
wasn’t smelling delicious to me anymore, and soon enough my period was missing.
My veteran instinct told me that I was pregnant, but my mind yelled, “NO WAY!
That boy did NOT do it again.”
In
February, this mama of five began to cycle through all the stages of grief.
First, total denial. Then, anger, which actually lasted for several weeks. Sitting
at work, just stewing in my feelings, I rapid fired texts to Clay in the middle
of the day about my pregnancy suspicions. But because he’s known me since he
was 15 years old, he’s accustomed to my out-of-nowhere wrath and was wise
enough not to be anything but completely supportive.
Those
late days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into two months before I
grudgingly caved and took a pregnancy test. Staring at those two life-changing,
pink lines, I finally arrived at the stage of acceptance. If God thought Clay
and I should have six kids, I was not going to argue with Him. Anyone who knows
us understands that we are both fiercely pro-life, including when our babies
aren’t planned and our bank account isn’t worth boasting about. Once again, we
were walking in faith that God would take care of our huge and expanding
family.
I
made a pregnancy confirmation appointment, and going back to my OB/GYN’s office
was like a family reunion with the midwives and nurses I had come to know and
love over the last sixteen years. So many sincere congratulations! After catching
up and then listening to my baby’s heartbeat, I was now incredibly excited about
number six. There really was a baby in my belly, and I was back with my
favorite people to help me through the rest of my pregnancy! As I was checking
out and making my next appointment, I ran into my most adored midwife, Linda,
who had delivered Annalise. She hugged and congratulated me, and I joked that I
really wanted to sign her up to deliver number six. My fingers were crossed
that she would!
I intended
to keep our unexpected number six a secret from everyone for as long as I
could, just to avoid the judgement and opinions of people who don’t embrace our
big family life style. We’ve learned that the bigger our family gets the more
freely people share their views about it. But I was so first trimester miserable,
and like with every other pregnancy, my internal monologue quickly disappeared.
Out came the fact that I was pregnant to my besties, my co-workers, and to my
boss when she passed me in the hall while I was in the midst of a horrible,
can’t-fan-myself-fast-enough hot flash.
I’m
always most nervous to tell my parents. Every day my friends and co-workers
would harass me and ask if I had told my parents yet. One even spotted me at our
favorite BBQ restaurant and messaged me, asking if I had broken the news yet
while I was at the table with my whole family. I considered sending my parents
and in-laws flowers with an announcement attached. I even went so far as to
price flowers online, but it didn’t feel right, so I chickened out.
On
an early Saturday morning in April, I was over at my parents’ house with my
three littles. When I got up off the couch, my father eyed me suspiciously. I
had worked hard to conceal my 14 weeks pregnant belly that had started to grow within
what felt like ten minutes after conception. However, I had clearly reached my
limit of fooling people. My father asked, “Are you late?” To which I replied,
“NO…I’m pregnant!” He yelled to my
mother in the kitchen that she was right. My mother burst into a smile and was
equal parts “I knew it!” and “I’m so excited!”
Immediately,
my mom was ready to tell the three little kids who were with me, and of course,
Collin, Amelia-Grace, and Annalise were thrilled when she told them. My kids always love a new addition to
the family. That evening, my mom took pictures of Clay and me in her backyard,
holding a onesie that said, “Guess what?” Afterwards we went back inside where
our two oldest sons, McLain and Keaton, were hanging out. Clay tossed the onesie to them as our way
of spreading the news. After the initial shock, they were really excited as
well. Later that night, we showed the pictures we had taken to Clay’s mom, and she
immediately called his dad and sisters. By baby number six, none of the adults
in our family are really shocked anymore.
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| You're not really pregnant until you're social media official. |
On
April 11th, we went social media public, and our fans went wild! I
posted: Clay Brooks and I thought that God
had called us to raise up 5 children for Him. However, we've learned that He
has different plans and that our 6th little blessing will be here in October! #WeCantBelieveItEither #YesWeKnowWhatCausesThis #CheaperByTheHalfDozen
No
more denial. No more secrets. Brooks baby number six was officially on its way
and due to arrive October 12th!
In
June, I went to my OB/GYN with Clay and my mother. Lying on the exam bed, I
watched my baby bounce and move on the monitor. I saw ten perfect fingers, ten
tiny toes, a healthy heart, and functioning kidneys, but as the ultrasound tech
determined the baby’s sex, I looked away and had Clay and my mom do the same. I
didn’t want to know what I was having! Even though at the end of the
appointment I was given a DVD with the baby’s gender confirmation on it, I left
that DVD unopened on my bedside table until well after the baby’s delivery. We
truly wanted to be surprised!
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| 17 Weeks 5 Days |
Because
this was our sixth baby, we already had everything we could possibly need for a
boy OR a girl. Overalls? Check. Enormous bows? Check. Bow ties? Check. Dresses
and coordinating bloomers? Check and check. I don’t know why the desire to wait
to find out what we were having struck us so strong this time around, but it
was exactly what we both wanted, and we had all the baby supplies to roll with
this urge. In the third trimester, I had a blue and white striped hat
monogrammed with the name Charlie and a pink hat with a white bow monogrammed
with Adeline on it. We were completely ready for whomever decided to join our
family!
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| Hats for Charlie or Adeline! |
I
spent the summer in any pool that I could find: my Mom’s, Tolleson, or White
Water. I was swollen and hot and wanted to stay submerged in water as much as
possible. In August, I started my new position at work as a phonics coach/EIP
kindergarten teacher, which was a perfect fit for this mama, because it
required less time on my feet. I was able to prop my enormously swollen feet up
or run to our school nurse to have my blood pressure checked as needed.
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| Cankles |
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| Trying to stay cool at the pool! |
On September 10th, Hurricane Irma made its way to the southeast and with it came a big drop in barometric pressure that was felt across Georgia. That day I nested with the girls and Clay. We went to Starbucks and then to Target to buy some pacifiers and Halloween pajamas with a pumpkin hat for the baby. The girls were so excited and continuously asking when the baby was coming. Around 6:45 that evening, contractions started, and after two hours, I started to grow mildly concerned as I was only 35 weeks. At 9:00, I headed to take a bubble bath and stayed in the tub for an hour until my contractions finally spaced out and stopped. I later read about how barometric pressure can impact a pregnant woman. I’m a believer now!
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| Shopping for Baby #6! |
I
headed to my 36 week appointment on September 18th, which was the
first of my weekly doctor visits. My midwife checked me and shared that I was 2
cm dilated; 50% effaced. I was a little disappointed that I was not more
dilated than that, but I also recognized that I had another month before the
baby was due.
On
October 4th, I went to my weekly scheduled appointment and was
surprisingly checked again. Typically, the practice I go to only checks mothers
at 36 and 40 weeks unless there is a specific need, because they want to limit
the potential for infection. The midwife stated that I was 3 cm dilated; 50%
effaced, and I was grateful to know that I had made a little progress since my visit
two weeks earlier. That night I nested and cleaned the house, even though it
was already clean. I packed and repacked my hospital bags, making sure that I
had everything I needed for either Charlie or Adeline. Perhaps I should have
paid closer to my intuition as I packed only two girl outfits but four little
boy ensembles!
Three days later Clay and I dressed up and went to the Marietta Country Club for dinner with his co-workers to celebrate a successful quarter for their company. We knew that night was likely our last opportunity to go out together before the baby arrived, and our suspicion proved to be correct.
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| Last outing before baby #6! |
At
3:10 AM on Monday, October 9th, I started having contractions, which started
to get noticeably serious by 4:15. A shower or a bath is my standard test to
determine if my labor is the real deal, so I headed to the shower at 5:00. My
contractions diminished and completely stopped by the time I finished showering,
and I was LIVID. I was sleep deprived, absurdly enormous, swollen from head to
toe, riddled with heart burn, and entirely too cranky to be around people. This
mama was DONE.
To
console myself, I stopped at McDonalds and got a large chocolate McFrappe on
the way to work. Eating my feelings was the only way I could survive the day. I
fussed and complained about my middle of the night contractions to my
co-workers during all of breakfast duty (bless their hearts to have to listen
to me vent) and then headed to my assistant principal’s office to borrow her
big blue yoga ball. I bounced on it off and on for the rest of the day in a
desperate attempt to evict number six!
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| A very swollen and desperate mama! |
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| Everything was ready at work and home! |
Two
days later, on Wednesday the 11th, I was still very pregnant at 39
weeks and 6 days. My weekly appointment
was at 2:00, and that day I was introduced to the practice’s newest midwife,
Dayna. As she was talking and telling me that she would schedule me for an
induction on Friday at 8:00 AM, I pulled up my phone and scrolled through my
Facebook albums. I pulled up a picture of Annalise’s delivery and showed it to
the midwife, asking “Is this you?” It actually was. We laughed, because she had
been my labor and delivery nurse with my fifth baby.
As
the midwife was typing an order for my induction, I asked her if she would
strip my membranes since I was only one day from my due date. She said,
“Absolutely!” I’ve never been induced and preferred not to be if there was a
less invasive way to get the labor party started. First, she checked me and
made my day by declaring me a good 4, almost 5 cm dilated and 50% effaced, and
then she swept my membranes. My body was getting ready on its own, and with her
nudge, she said that it wouldn’t be surprising if I didn’t make it to my
induction on Friday.
My
favorite midwife, Linda, popped in before I left and told me that I would be in
good hands with Dayna on Friday, because she had been her mentor. Dayna also
shared that my induction would be her first. I was just relieved to have an end
to this pregnancy in sight and grateful to have a plan if I didn’t go into
labor on my own in the next 42 hours.
After
the appointment, I took a moment in my car to just breathe and collect my
thoughts. The end really was so close. My baby would be in my arms in the next
couple of days. I called Clay and told him the plan, explaining that he needed
to take Friday off from work. I called my mom and texted my bosses that I
wasn’t coming back to work, as I wanted one day to pray and prepare myself for
this baby. I texted my in-laws, my besties, my team mates, and then my supply teacher,
letting her know that she could take over my students tomorrow.
After
settling all those logistics, I decided I really needed to eat my feelings and
do some retail therapy. Who knew when the next time I could shop alone would
be? I got a McChicken sandwich meal from McDonalds (apparently this baby was a
huge Mickey D’s fan) and then went to Target, buying the baby a yellow pair of
pajamas with adorable giraffe feet. After settling my nerves with junk food and
shopping, I picked the little boys up from ASP and then went to my Mom’s to hang
out and to get the girls. As Amelia-Grace and I lay on my mom’s couch together
and took selfies with her head on my belly, I didn’t realize that would be our
last time doing so.
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| My girl snuggling with her baby! |
Such
a busy afternoon had worn me out, so we headed home, and I went to bed fairly
early, relieved to know that I had a confirmed end for this pregnancy. Two more
days tops. Watching TV, I fell asleep just past 9:00 PM, but at 12:15 AM, a
contraction woke me up. As I laid there quietly in the dark, more followed, and
I became uncomfortable. Like with all my previous labors, I spent the first
part of this one wondering, hoping, and praying that these contractions were
the real thing. Monday’s contractions had been a tease, and I wasn’t certain
that these pains wouldn’t prove to be the same. After an hour passed with my
tracking them on a contraction app, I woke up Clay and then texted my mom that
I’d been contracting for an hour. I decided to take a shower to see if they
stopped or (fingers crossed) kept going. My mom said to let her know!
As I
showered, the contractions continued. They weren’t consistent, but they were
becoming increasingly longer and stronger. I got out of the shower, and as I
dried off, I started suspecting that these contractions were early labor. Still
praying that they were, I put on my favorite Mama Bird shirt, applied my makeup,
and dried my hair. After making sure that Clay was getting ready too, I stood
in my bathroom flat ironing my hair, having to pause as contractions wrapped
around my belly. Using my app, I tracked them, verifying that the contractions still
weren’t like clockwork. However, they kept coming no matter what I was doing
and were lasting at least a minute each. After two hours, I no longer had
reason to believe that I was being teased with false labor.
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| 2:35 AM and ready to head to to hospital! |
With
Keaton’s traumatic, unintentionally natural, four hour labor in my mind, I
decided it would be foolish to stay home and risk missing my epidural again. I
texted my mom, and Clay texted his parents as he started loading my bags into
the van. Then I gathered my purse and our phone chargers. It was definitely
time to go to the hospital. These contractions weren’t stopping.
Standing
in the middle of my kitchen, I was very much aware how different our life would
be next time I stood in it. Bringing a new person into our family very much
changes it but in the most amazing way. Clay took one last picture of me and my
enormous belly, and we took a selfie, reminding us of when we did that with an
old-fashioned, real camera when I was in early labor with our first baby 16
years earlier.
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| Last selfie before heading to the hospital to meet #6! |
And
because that baby was now a practically grown teenager, we left him in charge
as we headed to the hospital at 2:40 AM. We later found out McLain had no
memory of being woken up by his father or being told to listen out for his
brothers and his sisters until his grandparents arrived. Thankfully, he and all
his siblings didn’t stir as it was the middle of the night.
Clay
drove us to the hospital and dropped me off at entrance of the Women’s Center
while he parked the van. As I signed myself into triage, an older lady was
standing at the counter fussing to the staff, because she had been asked to
leave the labor room. She vented that all she did was ask a nurse about paternity
testing for the baby in front of her son’s laboring girlfriend. My jaw almost
hit the floor and only my continued contractions kept me from explaining to her
how ridiculous she was for asking such a question. Timing is everything!
Clay
joined me as I was assigned a triage room. In between contractions, he helped
me change into my pink gown and climb up on the bed. My vitals were checked,
and I was placed on a contraction monitor, which verified that I indeed was
contracting regularly. We could see the continuous peaks and valleys roll
across the screen. To my relief, my favorite midwife was on call. At 3:05 AM, Linda
checked me and determined I was 5 cm. This was real labor, and she said that I
wasn’t going anywhere until after my baby arrived.
As I
laid on my side in the triage bed, Clay sat in the chair next to me, texting
and updating our family. My contractions were increasing in intensity and were
triggered anytime I shifted my position, so I tried not to move. I was feeling
panicky and ready for my epidural. The order for one had been placed, but first
I needed my IV and to be moved out of triage. At 3:45, my nurse came in to give
me my IV, but just as she was about to start the process, I was hit with a
horrible contraction, one strong enough that made it impossible not to curse.
My nurse waited for the contraction to pass, quickly placed my IV, helped me
into a wheelchair, and then pushed me down the hall to a labor and delivery
room.
After
I was moved to my L&D room at 4:00 AM, Clay and I settled in, took and
posted a quick selfie, and turned the lights low, because it was still the
middle of the night. The hospital was unusually quiet. My contractions
continued and were bad enough that I couldn’t talk through them anymore, except
to curse. Because moving triggered them and I was trying to remain perfectly
still, I started having terrible back spasms that were difficult to tell apart
from the contractions. I was trying not to freak out, but I was in a miserable
amount of pain, very aware of how quickly this labor was getting worse, and well
past ready for my epidural.
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| This mama was hurting and ready for an epidural! |
At
4:45, almost two hours after I got to the hospital, my anesthesiologist finally
arrived. (Where was he? Coffee break??) I tried to sit up when he walked
towards my bed, but rising up immediately caused a back spasm which triggered a
fierce contraction. I was trapped in an inescapable hell. As he set up his
tools, the anesthesiologist tried to ask me several questions, but I couldn’t
focus on his words through the pain. He kept going, even though I was unable to
answer.
Knowing the drill, I managed to get upright and tried to sit entirely
still as I curled forward over a pillow and gripped Clay’s hands as the doctor
prepped my back for the epidural. I had a brief moment when I was neither
having a back spasm nor a contraction, so the doctor was lightning fast as he
inserted the needle in my spine. But his quickness felt like he was slamming me
in the back with a board while at the same time electrocuting me with hot currents
that shot from my back, down my hips, to my thighs. I’ve never yelled out
before when I got an epidural. Yet, in that moment there was no restraining
myself. I’m sure I sounded crazy, but being in so much pain, I didn’t care what
anyone else thought.
After
all that agony came sweet relief from the contractions and muscle spasms as the
epidural immediately began to take effect. I laid back in the bed, finally
relaxing for the first time after four and half hours of relentless contractions.
Clay warned both my nurse and the doctor of my history with plummeting blood
pressure after receiving an epidural, having dropped to 45/22 with my
third baby. As I closed my eyes and was overwhelmed with exhaustion, I could
feel my blood pressure dropping but didn’t care at all as long as the pain
didn’t return.
Because
my nurse and doctor had been warned, they were watching my monitor closely. As
my blood pressure almost immediately plunged to 70/something, I was given one bolus
of ephedrine in my IV. The doctor instructed my nurse to watch me closely, and
if it didn’t rise in a few minutes, that she should administer a second bolus as
a shot. The anesthesiologist left, and Clay and the nurse hovered over me,
continuously checking my blood pressure. I was aware of what was happening but
still feeling bad enough that I didn’t have the mental capacity to worry about
my well-being or the baby’s. When my blood pressure did not rise after several
minutes passed, the nurse gave me a second bolus of ephedrine in a shot, which
left a huge bruise on my hip that I discovered the next day. In hindsight, I’m
grateful that I couldn’t feel the shot because of my epidural.
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| He's gotten really good at taking care of me after all these labors. |
The
nurse turned off my overhead light at 5:15, and I laid in the dark with Clay
nearby and her quietly attending to me. Just as my blood pressure was normalizing,
and I was almost drifting off to sleep, the room echoed with a pop that could
be heard through my fetal monitor. I
roused up enough to share that I thought that either I peed myself or that my
water had just broken. My nurse checked me and said that my water had indeed
broken and that I was also 6 cm. At this point, I gave up trying to sleep and
briefly hoped that I would be able to nap at some point after the baby arrived.
After
all the contraction, muscle spasm, and epidural drama, I resigned myself to
stay awake and was ready for family visitors, finally feeling pain free and back
to normal. My parents, who had been anxiously waiting downstairs for quite some
time, came in and took pictures with me, excited that their sixth grandbaby was
on its way. Alex, my little brother, also popped in and took pictures while
making silly jokes. Clay and I took a moment to just hold hands and breathe. It
had been a very tough few hours, filled with much more intense pain than either
of us had anticipated.
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| My best cheerleaders! |
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| Little brothers are always great for making you laugh. |
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| Taking a moment to breathe before delivery. |
Less
than an hour later at 6:10, I started feeling contractions in my birth canal
but not across my belly. This is not unusual for me as I typically have
breakthrough contractions when I reach 7-8 cm. Trying not to panic but also not
willing to feel any more pain during this labor, I immediately hit my nurse call
button and asked for the anesthesiologist. Hearing my call at the nurse’s station,
my midwife Linda stopped by and checked my dilation. She said I was at 10 cm (I
had progressed from 6-10 cm in 55 minutes!), but the baby’s head was still high.
She was very nonchalant and said that we had time to wait for it to descend and
that she would page the anesthesiologist.
At
6:22, a different anesthesiologist arrived and gave me an epidural bolus, and the
contractions subsided again. She explained that the reason I could feel the
break through contractions was because I was dilating faster than the epidural
could keep up with. That made complete sense! I was just grateful that no one
tried to convince me to try to labor further without a fully functioning
epidural.
Clay
texted his mother, and my mom followed his text with a phone call to her,
urging her to come to the hospital ASAP. Mimi was at my house, which is only
2.2 miles away from the hospital, with our five kids and my niece and nephew.
My mom told her to hurry, so she wouldn’t miss the baby’s birth! Mimi was
worried that if she left Pop Pop with all seven grandkids that he would be late
to work at 8:00. I assured her that I would have the baby before then!
With
my newly topped off epidural, I was thoroughly numb from the waist down and
able to rest quietly again. While I waited for my mother-in-law to arrive, I texted
my besties, team mates, and bosses that I was at 10 cm. Because I knew we would
be taking a lot of pictures soon, I reapplied my lip gloss. My nurse laughed
and asked, “Are you really putting on lip gloss right now?” I told her those
newborn pics are around forever, and I didn’t want to look a hot mess.
Mimi
got to the hospital at 7:20 and said that the nurse had mentioned someone would
need to trade places with her, since my room was already full with Clay, my
parents, and my brother. My dad and Alex wished me “Good luck!” and headed to
the waiting room while my mom and Clay stayed with me. Mimi sat down in the
rocking chair, relieved that she had made it to the hospital with time to
spare. My support team was ready.
A
very few minutes later my midwife walked in, flipped on the overhead lights,
and said it was time to push, even though she hadn’t checked to see if the baby’s
head had made its descent. At first, I found that kind of odd, but I later
realized her shift was over at 8:00, and she knew how much I wanted her to
deliver this baby. Linda was my most adored midwife, because she was a schemer,
and she did not disappoint me on this day!
As I
was prepped for delivery and my midwife pulled on her paper gown and gloves, I
made my only delivery request: I wanted to announce what the baby was upon its
arrival. The moment I had been waiting 40 weeks for was finally here, and I
wanted to declare whether Charles Clay or Adeline Charlotte had officially
joined our herd. Everyone agreed to let me make the announcement as they took
their places around me, my mom to my right, Clay and his mother to my left, and
my midwife at the foot of my bed.
Having
been up almost all night, I was exhausted and more than a little irritable. However,
I was also excited and incredibly ready to meet my baby. I recognized that only
a handful of pushes were preventing me from meeting him or her. All I could
think was “Who am I going to meet today, Charlie or Adeline?”
With
direction to start pushing from my midwife, I took a deep breath, pulled back
on my completely numb legs, and pushed as hard as I could. My first push was
met with encouraging words from Linda. I pushed again and again and again,
trying not to grow frustrated that the baby’s head was slow to rotate and
descend. Again, my midwife cheered me on and said that she could see the baby
and its head of dark hair. Those words were exactly what I needed to hear. After
19 minutes of pushing, I took my deepest breath, tucked my chin into my chest, and
pushed with all the strength I had left. At 7:49 AM, a beautiful, crying Brooks
number six burst into my world. The midwife held my baby up for me to see and
asked me what it was. I shouted, “It’s a boy, and he’s covered in poop!” What a
naughty Brooks boy already!
On
Thursday, October 12th after seven and a half intense hours of
labor, Charles Clay Brooks was born on his due date, weighing 9 lbs 3 oz and
measuring 21 ½ inches long. Charlie was huge and precious and immediately stole
the hearts of his mommy, daddy, and grandmothers. As I cried and looked into my
baby’s sweet, chubby face, I couldn’t believe he was finally here and lying on
my chest. A year ago, Clay and I would never have imagined receiving a gift from
God as sweet as Charlie, but even just minutes old, we couldn’t imagine our
life without him.
When we were dating, Clay and I thought that three was the ideal number of kids. We were so wrong! I’m incredibly grateful that God has shown us that six children is actually the perfect amount of children for us…to fiercely love, to snuggle, to giggle with, to chase, and to raise for Him and His kingdom. Welcome to the Brooks family, Charlie B.! You are a perfect fit.
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