I can't believe that eight years have already flown by since you were born, Collin. You are such an old soul and crack us up! We don't know what you will be when you grow up, but you will definitely be in charge. Love you so much, little old man!
Collin’s
Birth Story
By His
Mommy
By the summer
of 2010, Clay and I had two very busy little boys and life was really good. We
were always on the go and loving every minute of our Spider-Man and Lego filled
world. McLain was our serious son and already obsessed with video games. Keaton
was my wild man that preferred to be naked and would climb on absolutely anything
that would stand still.
Deep in my heart, I knew
that I wanted more babies, despite already having two of the best boys I could
ever ask for. My biological clock continuously reminded me of this desire, and
I tried fervently to ignore it and enjoy the sweet spot we were in as a family.
I knew that if I worked hard enough that I could wear Clay down and talk him
into trying for one more kiddo, but I didn’t want to brow- beat him into having
another baby. What kind of birth story would that be to tell the child later?
That summer we
took a family trip to Myrtle Beach, and our week was spent applying sunscreen
and chasing the boys in and out of the ocean. One afternoon while we were there,
Clay asked me if I wanted to have another baby. I was stunned, remembering that
for three and half years Clay insisted that he was content with just our two
sons. Immediately, I replied, “YES!!!” Nothing could make my heart happier.
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| Myrtle Beach 2010 |
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| Last beach trip as a family of four! |
In August, a new
school year began and not long after that I started to feel nauseous. Before
long I was throwing up every morning, and I could only assume why. I took one
pregnancy test and then another to confirm my suspicion. As I stared down at
the tests and their pink lines, I could hardly believe that our family was
really expanding.
On September 2nd,
our tenth wedding anniversary, Clay and I went to Gatlinburg for Labor Day weekend.
My nausea plagued me, and I was miserable the entire time. The highlight of the
trip was when we went to the Carter’s outlet, and I bought a pastel yellow baby
gown. It really solidified for me that a baby was on its way, and I planned to
use the gown for our baby announcement when we returned home.
Consumed with increasing,
first trimester morning sickness, I had a difficult time teaching in the
morning after we got home from our trip. I would place a trashcan near me,
praying that I would not have to use it in front of my students. Out of
necessity, I let my nearby teacher friends in on my secret. If I had to rush to
the restroom to throw-up, I didn’t want the unplanned arrival of my class in
their room to be a shock to them!
Not long after
our anniversary trip, Clay and I went to lunch at Los Bravos with both our
families after church. As everyone ate chips and queso, Clay and I passed out
envelopes to our family members. Inside they quickly found our baby
announcement that read: We are excited, joyful, and blessed to say that Brooks
#3 is on its way! On the card was a picture of the yellow gown we had bought on
our trip, as well as my pregnancy test. Our family was excited but very much shocked.
These were the days before baby announcements became our norm!
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| Our announcement! |
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| About to be Brooks Party of 5! |
Soon it was the
end of September, and I took my boys to the fair. I was completely overjoyed
with the thought of eating fair food: boiled peanuts, apple dumplings with ice
cream, and grilled hamburgers! I happily ate while walking around the
fairgrounds, and the boys played on the swings, motorcycles, and panda ride.
Without thinking, I helped Keaton get on and off each ride, picking him up over
and over like all of the times I had taken him to the fair before. I would soon
learn that I couldn’t always be Super Woman, particularly when I’m pregnant.
The boys and I
went home, and I put them to bed as we were all exhausted. We quickly fell
asleep, and I was grateful to have the weekend to rest. The next morning I woke
up and went to the restroom. To my horror, I realized that I was spotting. I. Was. Terrified.
Sitting on the toilet, I
started sobbing, consumed by the idea that I was losing my baby. Through my
fear I tried to figure out what I should do. Shaking, I called out for Clay and
got back in the bed. Staying off my feet seemed like a wise first step. Then, I
called my mother who told me to call my OB/GYN, which I immediately did, crying
the entire time. I had to leave a message with the answering service and wait
for the doctor to call back.
Minutes seemed to tick by
so slowly, but finally my phone rang. The doctor listened to my concerns and
then directed me to stay on bed rest for the remainder of the weekend. He
instructed me to come to the office for an ultrasound sound as soon as I could
get an appointment. The doctor also advised me not to pick up anything heavier
than five pounds and that I was on complete pelvic rest. Other than those
suggestions, he said there was nothing else I could do.
I spent the
weekend in bed, hardly daring to roll over or move. I alternated between crying
and just begging God to keep my baby safe. Waves of terror would wash over me
repeatedly, and I felt as if I was drowning in my own fear. I tried to act
normal around my boys but hiding my anxiety was very difficult. My mother and
mother-in-law brought meals to the house, so I didn’t have to worry about what
the boys would eat. My brother even made me my favorite chocolate pudding. We
were all consumed with worry for this baby.
Every time I went
to the bathroom, I was scared to look. I would wait to go as long as I could
bear it, because I was so fearful of what I would find. As the weekend wore on,
the spotting decreased until it finally stopped by Monday and my hope started
to return.
Early Monday
morning, I called my OB/GYN’s office and scheduled an ultrasound appointment.
The first available one was mid-Tuesday, so I took it. I counted down the hours
until it was time to go.
The next day I
drove myself to the doctor. Looking back, I don’t know why I didn’t take Clay
or my mother with me. Maybe I wanted to know that I would have privacy for my
emotions-big, bad, or ugly- if I learned that I had miscarried my baby.
The nurse quickly
called me back to the ultrasound room. I climbed onto the exam table and waited
for the ultrasound technician who soon arrived. She instructed me to lie back
and pull up my shirt. Coating my belly with
warm petroleum jelly, she then used her scanner to assess my baby, and I took a
deep breath, knowing how serious this ultrasound was.
Looking at the monitor, I
was immediately flooded with relief. On the screen in front of me was a TINY
bouncing and wiggling baby. With tears in my eyes, I watched it wave its arms
and kick its legs. The technician measured my baby and deemed it to be
perfectly healthy at 1 ½ inches and with a heartbeat of 164 beats per minute.
She determined the baby to be 10 weeks and 0 days old and due April 28th.
My sweet number three was just fine. Praise the Lord!
Understanding my
relief, the ultrasound tech printed me several pictures. Leaving the office, I
went to my car, thanked God for his mercy, and just felt the tension and fear
from the weekend escape my body. Using my phone, I took a shot of the 3D
ultrasound picture and sent it to Clay. I texted: Meet your baby. Right away,
he texted back and said that he might be shedding a man tear or two. We let our
family know that the baby was ok, and we all prayed that the rest of the
pregnancy would be uneventful.
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| Our teeny tiny 10 week old baby! |
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| 1 1/2 centimeters |
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| 164 bpm |
On December 3rd,
Clay, my mom, and I went for the baby’s 20 week anatomy scan. Together, we
watched the baby wriggle and squirm as the ultrasound technician measured the
baby’s head, abdomen, arms, and legs. Finally, she asked if we were ready to
learn the gender of the baby. Immediately, we could see that Brooks number
three was also a he! Clay and I were thrilled to know we were having a third
son, and my mom retrieved an “It’s a boy!” banner from her purse for us to hold
as she took our picture. As McLain had declared when we learned that Keaton was
a boy, we laughed that the “boy fiesta” would continue in our house!
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| 5 month anatomy scan in 3D |
The next day, I
made gender reveal cupcakes, pushing blue plastic safety pins down inside them
and covering the tops with white icing. Our families went to dinner at Wallace
BBQ that night, and after we ordered, Clay and I passed out the cupcakes. On
the count of three, our family bit into or broke apart their cupcakes, and
learned that another Brooks boy would be arriving in April. I think a lot of
our family was in disbelief that we were having a third boy!
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| Gender reveal cupcakes! |
The winter days
passed quickly and soon it was my birthday, January 31st. What
should have been a fun day turned ugly when I received a scathing email from an
upset parent, accusing me of not supporting her child to the best of my
ability. My co-teacher and I were horrified as we had worked tirelessly to meet
the needs of this student. By the end of the day, I was so upset that I began contracting
and called my mom as I drove to her house, crying the entire 20 minute drive. After
an hour of contractions that were occurring every five minutes, I called my
OB/GYN’s after-hours number and was instructed by the nurse to go to the
Women’s Center.
My mother drove
me to the hospital, and we went immediately to triage where my nurse hooked me
up to fetal and contraction monitors. Very quickly, my midwife came in and
checked my dilation, relieved that the contractions I was having were not
productive. After five hours, my contractions finally subsided, and I was
instructed to stay home from work the next day. My midwife explained that my
contractions were stress induced and that she wished that I could just have a
big glass of wine and email the angry mother back with a few choice words.
After this false
labor, the rest of my pregnancy went fairly smoothly. Georgia had a large, February
snow storm, and I happily huddled inside with my big boys for several days as
the deep snow turned to ice. My class threw me a surprise baby shower, and Clay
and I worked on converting Keaton’s room into a room for him and the baby to
share.
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| 30 Weeks 2 Days |
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| 35 Weeks |
At 37 weeks pregnant, I
developed a horrible case of bronchitis. I coughed and coughed and coughed and
feared that I would cough my baby right out. When my wheezing escalated, I went
to urgent care and got medicine and assurance that I should be much better
before the baby arrived. I was nervous that if I couldn’t stop coughing soon
that I wouldn’t be able to hold my breath to push my baby out. After a week of
being terribly sick, I was finally better and welcomed the idea of my baby’s
arrival!
For just over 38 weeks, I
frequently thought and speculated about when and how my third baby was going to
enter our lives. I worried that his labor might go on for days, like McLain’s
and his 39 hour arrival. With overwhelming anxiety, I wondered if his delivery
would be unintentionally natural or after his due date, like Keaton’s birth. To
my surprise, my third baby boy ended my speculation eleven days before his due
date.
On
Saturday, April 16th, I woke with the determination to finish
getting ready for my new little man, even though I was not due until April 28th.
As I sat at the computer with my morning coffee, I updated my Facebook status
with “Today’s agenda: Nesting. Clay is so thrilled. J” I was
set on finishing up my baby “to do” list, so that my mind could finally be at
peace.
That
morning, I finished hot gluing ribbons to the wooden letters of Collin’s and Keaton’s
names and had Clay hang them on the wall of the little boys’ room. I also
cleaned out our filing cabinet, which I had never done before, but suddenly I
couldn’t wait another day to do it. Piles of old, useless stuff from it had to
immediately go.
After
that, I went to Target and bought a car seat. We had one for Clay’s car, but I
also needed one for mine. While wandering Target’s aisles, I tossed baby
shampoo, lotion, and Desitin in the cart, because I was worried that I didn’t
have any at home. As I was standing in the check-out line, a former coworker,
who was also pregnant, greeted me and asked when I was due. I told her that my
due date was twelve days away, but I was completely ready to be finished with
this pregnancy. She laughed and said, “Well, maybe you’ll be lucky and have him
today. You never know.” Who knew her words would be so foreshadowing?
When I
got back from my shopping trip, Clay and I picked up around the house as I
crabbily complained of how tired I was of being pregnant. That afternoon and
evening I lay in my bed with the company of my DVR. Occasionally, I would have
a random contraction, but none got my hopes up that Collin would make his debut
anytime soon. As the evening wore on, my favorite reality shows held my
attention until my mom called around 8:15 PM. We chatted for about half an
hour, and at 8:45 PM I got out of my bed while still on the phone. As
I stood up, I felt a small, warm liquid gush and thought, “Oh great. My bladder
has stopped working.” I sat back down on the edge of my bed.
What I
initially thought was my faulty bladder continued to leak with every move I
made and with every movement that the baby made. The thought crossed my mind
that it could be amniotic fluid, but I didn’t want to be too hopeful because my
due date was still twelve days away. I did mention it to my mom and cautiously
relayed the information to Clay. My mom said that she had a slow dribble with
my brother and that I should pay attention to it and for contractions. I lay
back down and obsessed over every twinge in my uterus.
Even
though contractions had not started, my body was still leaking fluid 45 minutes
later, so Clay called his parents about 9:30 PM to put them on alert. They
had offered to watch the older boys when we went to the hospital, and we wanted
to let them know they might need to sleep over at our house.
After
talking again to my mom and then to Clay, I decided to call my doctor’s office
to see what they recommended. Fluid was continuing to increasingly leak after
almost two hours, and I was no longer convinced that my bladder was the
culprit. At 10:43 PM, I spoke with Dr. Morrel, a doctor in my practice but
not one I saw frequently, and described what I had been experiencing. He asked
if this was my first child, and when I said it was my third, he told me to come
to the Women’s Center immediately.
Clay
called his parents, and his dad said that he would come over and spend the
night with the boys. I double checked my hospital bags and made sure I had our
cameras, Ziploc bag of change for snacks, and my make-up. While we waited, I
swept the kitchen floor, made McLain and Keaton chocolate chip muffins for
breakfast, laid out the boys’ clothes for the next day, and left them a note to
read in the morning. I explained that I was going to the hospital to have their
new brother and that they could come see him when they woke up.
When
Clay’s dad arrived at 11:30 PM, Clay helped me waddle to the car, and we
left for the hospital. This drive was noticeably different from our last car
trip when I was in labor—no screaming, no cursing, and no contractions. Clay
dropped me off at the women’s center entrance, and I walked by myself to the
admission desk. Clay joined me just as I started to sign my paperwork. The
admission clerk looked at me skeptically and asked if this was my first child.
When I shared that this was number three, she smiled and said, “No wonder
you’re so calm.”
Thankfully, there were no other people ahead of me, so I was able to head
straight for triage at 11:45 PM. I was assigned a room and given a pink
gown to wear. I changed out of my clothes and waited for the nurse to visit. With
some embarrassment, I explained to her that either my bladder had finally
stopped working or that my water had broken. The nurse checked me with a litmus
test and confirmed that my water had definitely broken and also shared that I
was at 3 centimeters. Clay and I were completely shocked to learn that I was
already dilated. That was the easiest three centimeters I had ever experienced!
Because I
had dilated so fast with Keaton, I shared with the triage nurse that I didn’t
want to miss my epidural opportunity again and had absolutely no interest in
another natural childbirth. She assured me that the order for an epidural would
be immediately placed. My epidural would be available as soon as my
contractions began. I was surprised at this point that I was not having
any yet.
I texted
my mom who was already on her way with my dad, brothers, and my brother’s
girlfriend. She was equally thrilled and as shocked as Clay and I were about my
progression. I also texted quite a few of my friends as I lay on the triage
bed, listening to my baby’s sweet heartbeat on the monitor, and waiting for my
delivery room to be ready.
My mom
beat me to my private delivery room and was waiting on Clay and me when a
delivery nurse pushed me inside in my wheelchair. It was just midnight, a
little over three hours after my water had broken. I was starting to get
excited, even though I knew it was going to be a long night.
After
settling me in my bed, my nurse started my IV. She told me that my order for an
epidural was already in place and that I just had to wait for contractions to
start. We were all closely watching the monitor for contraction activity, but
there was none yet. I was still so fearful of missing my epidural with this
labor, because my dilation with Keaton happened so fast.
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| Hanging around waiting for contractions to start. |
After I
was completely settled, my dad came up to visit while the rest of my immediate
family stayed downstairs in the waiting room. My mom acted as the official text
communicator between them and the happenings with my labor, which had been
uneventful so far.
At
about 1:45 AM, my first contraction crept around my huge belly and held it
captive for close to thirty seconds. It wasn’t too painful, but it made me
uneasy that the intense ones would quickly follow. Several more mild ones soon
did. We paged the nurse who checked me after my father stepped outside of the
room. I was still at three centimeters, and the nurse encouraged me to wait
until my contractions grew more intense and closer together before I got my
epidural. Very reluctantly, I agreed to wait. She assured me that if I wanted
an epidural, I could immediately have it. I clung to that promise.
A few
minutes later, my parents went in search of some much needed coffee and to
relay the labor news in person to my family downstairs. While they were gone,
Clay sat on the bed, holding my hand, and tracked my contractions on my
contraction iPhone app. At 2:15 AM, I had a ferocious contraction that
lasted 2 ½ minutes. It sent absolute terror through me that I was about to go
through another natural childbirth. I was no longer willing to wait for my
contractions to progress further and sent Clay to tell my nurse that I wanted
my epidural immediately.
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| Contractions just getting started! |
Without
trying to convince me to wait again, the nurse paged the anesthesiologist who
arrived by 2:30 AM. My mom walked back in my room as I was sitting on the
edge of my bed, clasping Clay’s hands, and the doctor was inserting the needle
into my spine. She had no idea how quickly my contractions had gone from mildly
annoying to inescapably terrible.
As soon
as the medicine in the epidural entered me and started to alleviate my pain, I
felt suddenly exhausted, as if I had just run a marathon. Talking became
impossible, and I was too overwhelmed with this immediate exhaustion to
struggle to explain how odd I felt. Even though I wanted to, I couldn’t lay
myself down, and Clay and my nurse had to do it for me. I could see that my
nurse was concerned by how she was watching my monitor, but I was too tired to
really care about what was happening to me.
My nurse
noted that my blood pressure had plummeted after receiving my epidural.
Quickly, she gave me a bolus of ephedrine in an attempt to bring it back up. I
watched her, knowing something was wrong with me, but I couldn’t physically
bring myself to question her about it. After taking my blood pressure again, my
nurse said that my blood pressure was still too low and gave me an additional
ephedrine bolus. Finally, my blood pressure crept back up to normal and the
anxiety clearly felt in my room subsided.
Later, my
mother asked what happened, and my nurse explained that sometimes when women
receive an epidural, it affects their blood pressure by causing it to drop.
When my mother asked what mine was, my nurse said it was pretty low. Being
persistent, my mother asked specifically how low, and the nurse hesitantly
shared that my blood pressure had dropped to 45/22. No wonder I couldn’t speak
or move!
After
that scary experience, I lay in my bed for the next three hours and was plagued
by an annoying side effect of my epidural: constant itchiness! While Clay slept
in a hospital chair and was oblivious to my distress, my mother stayed up all
night and rubbed my feet, which was the only thing that distracted me from my
unrelenting itching! I cannot imagine a delivery without my mother to take care
of me.
At 5:25 AM, Dr. Morell came in to check me and discovered that I had
progressed to 6 centimeters. He noted that my contractions had become somewhat irregular and infrequent since I received my
epidural, so he placed an order for Pitocin to be added to my IV, which sounded
like an excellent plan to me. By then, I was ridiculously sleepy but couldn’t
stop itching long enough to take a nap.
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| I'm wide awake while Daddy is sleeping over there... |
Around 7:00 AM, I started to feel some pain during my contractions, and I
fussed at Clay to wake up. My epidural had stopped working well, so I used the
self-pump twice; however, the medication that was added was not strong enough
to stop me from feeling my contractions. My mom paged my new nurse as there had
been a shift change and explained the situation to her. My nurse paged the
anesthesiologist that had just begun the morning shift. When he came to check
my epidural, he asked me if I was really feeling pain. I felt like punching him
in the face and asking him if he was feeling any discomfort, but I controlled
my sarcasm. Thankfully, he kept any further questions to himself and
administered a bolus to my epidural that soon provided me with relief.
When I
initially received my epidural, I could still move my legs and could feel when
someone touched me. With this added bolus, I felt nothing and could not make my
legs move at all. They could only be repositioned by someone else moving them
for me. It was annoying; however, I was too exhausted to care as it was
nearing 8:00 AM, and I had been awake for over twenty four hours.
Because I was still at 6 centimeters, my nurse suggested that I lay on my side and prop my legs with two pillows between them to allow the baby more space to move completely down. At this point, I didn’t care what she did to me as long as I could sleep. As I was finally feeling comfortable again and the itchiness was not too severe, I snuggled down in my pillows to attempt to finally nap.
Because I was still at 6 centimeters, my nurse suggested that I lay on my side and prop my legs with two pillows between them to allow the baby more space to move completely down. At this point, I didn’t care what she did to me as long as I could sleep. As I was finally feeling comfortable again and the itchiness was not too severe, I snuggled down in my pillows to attempt to finally nap.
At 8:20 AM, Dr. Morrell came in to check me, which I grumpily allowed him
to do. He discovered that “just a lip” of my cervix was left. Apparently, my
nurse’s pillow trick had worked well. My doctor instructed me to try to push
once, and then I was completely dilated. Instead of being overjoyed, I was a
mixture of anger and annoyance. All I wanted to do was sleep!
The labor
and delivery and pediatric nurses began to ready my room and break down my bed
while my mom engaged in a long conversation with Dr. Morrell. They discussed
how he had delivered my youngest brother 19 years earlier and how I was in the
room when he did. They found it ironic that almost two decades later he was
delivering my baby.
At 8:29
AM, I started pushing. After having a completely natural delivery with Keaton,
I was taken aback by how different this experience was, because I had no urge
to push. Although I didn’t want to feel the pain of pushing, I wanted to know
that what I was doing was effective. I was too exhausted to spend over an hour
pushing like I did when I labored with McLain. After my first push, a nurse
slipped an oxygen mask over my face, and I questioned the doctor if the baby
was really coming down. I was assured that he was, but I was skeptical
that I was being told what I wanted to hear. I wanted to know results, not hear
cheerleading!
Despite
being able to feel no sensation as I contracted, I took a deep breath and pushed
with a vengeance, feeling like I was doing the world’s biggest crunch. After
nine minutes and a handful of determined pushes, I saw a slimy little head
start to emerge and then a beautiful, sweet face. I reached out and stroked my
baby’s warm, wet cheek as he took his first glimpse of this world. I pushed one
more time, and the doctor quickly delivered my slippery boy and placed him on
my chest. He was a just a little peanut, weighing 7 pounds 2 ounces and
measuring 19 ½ inches.
For the third
time in my life, I fell in love with a little man as soon as I laid my eyes on
his handsome face. Collin Xavier Brooks, the tiny baby whom I was so terrified
to lose in September, completely stole my heart on Sunday, April 17th at exactly
8:38 AM. He was mesmerizing, adorable, and perfect, and I could not imagine my
world without him. I am so grateful that God heard my fervent prayers and
allowed me to be his mommy. Collin, YOU are a huge blessing in our lives,
very much an answer to your parents’ prayers, and an absolutely perfect fit for
our family. We love you so much, Colly Wolly. Happy birthday, baby!
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| Baby Collin Xavier just seconds old. |
