The Day I Became a Mom

At 12:37 a.m. on January 6, 2024, we finished our midnight feeding with Wyatt as a one-week-old. It’s really hard for me to comprehend how fast time has passed. In the moment, while laboring, time felt like it was moving by at a snail’s pace. In contrast, his first weeks of life have raced by at the speed of a freight train. 

If I’m honest, it doesn’t always feel real. The number of times I’ve whispered “I’m someone’s mom” to myself in disbelief is immense.

It does, however, feel so big and so full of emotion that I might burst. 

Constantly, I find myself back and forth between extremes – full of both fear and joy; exhaustion and amazement; overly insecure, yet incredibly excited. 

It has been the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt… and, also the most vulnerable.

But mostly – I’m wildly in awe of what God can do in a very small amount of time. I’m humbled by being called to this space.

Our Birth Story

Wyatt entered this world at 5 pounds and 12 ounces, without incident or stress (on him), after a full 12 hours of laboring and almost three hours of pushing.

Our birth story isn’t full of too many crazy moments, but it is a full 24 hours that I didn’t anticipate would happen when it did or what would take place when I got there. 

I had almost 10 months to understand, comprehend and prepare for what I would be up against. Yet, for the first time in what is probably my entire life, I chose to not plan.

I was assured by Dr. Bailey that whatever path we decided to take, we would get there together. 

Honestly? That’s all I needed to hear. So, I did what my brain does best… I closed the door on thinking about what the actual day of birth would be like. I lived my best, ignorance is bliss, pregnant life.

I actively chose to show up and do what I was told to do when that day came. Which… is probably how I didn’t even know I was in labor. 

Yep, this incredible story of welcoming this tiny human life into the world came to be… without me even knowing that’s what was going on. 

A Morning of Surprises

Our original due date was January 17, but we were scheduled to induce on January 9. While I was A-OKAY with being ignorant of the whole labor and delivery process until it was necessary, I needed dates on the calendar for when the whole thing would go down. 

Scheduling to be induced helped my brain process (as much as it could) my inevitable role as a mom. 

It helped us to have a schedule where Evan and Madison could be a part of their little brother’s arrival.

It also helped to make more concrete plans for work. With the 9th circled on the calendar, I scheduled/prepared for maternity leave to begin January 1. I did this to have a trial week for our team at work to call and ask questions if they needed to, to take a few days for myself and to get some last-minute house things ready.

God laughs at me and my best-made plans every single day, so I shouldn’t be surprised that the ultimate plan for Wyatt’s entrance into the world was not fazed in the slightest by my agenda.  

Although the entirety of my pregnancy was rather uneventful, something was different enough between Wednesday, December 27 and Friday, December 29 for me to take note. 

I didn’t know what it was then, but I felt off. Specifically, I felt like my body was on a slow battery drain. 

On Thursday evening, I got home from work and experienced a few new-to-me pregnancy symptoms. So, I did what any sane human would do… I Googled it. Of course, the Internet told me it could be one of about eight things – including labor. So, I chalked it up as one more “normal” aspect of pregnancy and that I shouldn’t overreact or stress.

Instead, I decided I would wait to see if the symptoms persisted. I told myself that if it was still an issue the following morning, I would mention it at my scheduled doctor’s appointment. 

I did, however, mention to Nick that I thought we might have a baby by the weekend.

In the kindest, dearest way possible, he looked at me like I had two heads. In his defense, I didn’t tell him it was because of said symptoms. We were also operating under the impression that the first pregnancy and labor would be long with a very, very low chance of being early. 

On Friday morning, Nick brought me both coffee and my morning pop-tart. I left the coffee unbothered and was so exhausted that I barely sat up in bed to consume the pop-tart. I also decided to not go to the gym (in hindsight, this was probably the best decision I made that morning). 

Slowly, I rolled out of bed, showered and got ready to go into the office early. It was my last full day in office before maternity leave, and I had a laundry list of things I needed to close out before being able to leave for 12 weeks. 

Typing that sentence now makes me cackle. 

I knocked out about half of that list before our doctor’s appointment at 8:30 a.m.

We reported for our ultrasound and Wyatt’s biophysical profile test. He got an 8/8 for movement and breathing practice – which resulted in another great test of physical fitness.  

The tech did mention that he seemed to be squashed with very little room to move. But, my fluid levels were in the normal range and our baby boy seemed to be both happy and healthy. 

I assumed that if the symptoms from the night before were an issue… it would have been spotted here, so my priority level for asking questions lowered tremendously. 

When we got into the actual appointment, my NP asked if I wanted to be checked to see if there was any real progress towards labor. 

I declined. If you know, you know. 

Other than being exhausted and the randomness of the night before, I had zero signs or symptoms of anything else. No pain, no discomfort, no nothing. Whatever I experienced the night before had stalled, so I assumed it was a one-off random thing. Checking to see if I was near labor seemed unnecessary.

At the end of the visit, she asked if I had any additional questions.

I began with a few about formula, what to bring to the hospital and what to expect when checking into Labor & Delivery on January 9. 

We got through all of that, and something told me I needed to at least mention the night before… just in case. So, I did. 

I can still see the face she made at me. Without hesitation – she asked, “Did your water break?” To which I responded, “Eh? I’m new here. It wasn’t like the movies. So, I don’t know?”

While that was one of the possible answers to the questions I Googled the night before, my experience did not match the stereotypical experience for water breaking or what was described by those Google results (which is really why I didn’t think this was a thing).

She validated that she did, indeed, need to check to see if my water broke with two tests. One was an instant strip – a positive indicator of my water breaking would turn the strip blue. 

Because nothing is ever that simple, my test strip turned green with some faint blue coloring. 

The other test would take about 10-15 minutes to process. 

Naively, I asked what a positive test would mean. That’s when she shared that it would mean I was in labor, and we would have a baby… not on January 9, but on December 29. 

As a shocking turn of events for all of us, she came back to the room with a big grin. It was positive. In what seems to be the most anticlimactic way possible, my water had broken the night before.

And just like that, in a very fast 10 minutes, we went from thinking we would both go back to work to having a baby. 

My best guess is that no one is surprised by the fact that I asked if I could go back to the office for a few hours, first. I had a video for New Year’s Eve to complete, a press release to write and some closeout processes and instructions to leave in my absence.

I needed to close out my desk. 

I HAD THINGS TO DO.  

When that didn’t work, I asked if we could at least run to the house to grab our bags. I was almost packed – but I could have used a once over to make sure I had everything… like the Weller Special Reserve we would drink as a celebratory toast and my pajama pants that were in the dryer. 

Priorities? Yes. 

Nevertheless, she said no. Even though the voice in my head whispered “How will they know?”, I’m a rule follower at heart. 

We both, alternately, began calling and texting family, work and friends. Nick wasn’t packed at all, but thankfully, the kiddos were at the house. Maddie was able to put together the stuff he would need. 

With hospital registration initiated, we drove across the street to Labor & Delivery. 

It’s at this point, where I would like to share that I could have – in fact – gone back to the office or home. We didn’t see the doc for another few hours and my body didn’t feel like it was having a baby until mid-afternoon. 

I’ll also admit that I was in denial for several hours about Wyatt joining us on this side of the world that specific day. I wouldn’t even sit in the hospital bed. 

Until the nursing/doctor team arrived to talk through the gameplan, I sat on the couch working both my personal and work phones to compile a list of remaining tasks that would need to be taken care of. 

It’s at this point in my career when I’ve managed to talk on one phone while texting on another in the depths of a canyon on a vacation AND also in the labor & delivery room. 

It took me a few hours, but reality did begin to sink in. I accepted that I couldn’t wrap everything in a neat little bow like I wanted to and that there were plenty of people who could help do what needed to be done.

I’ve been very adamant that I wanted to soak up this entire chapter of our journey and be present. But, I felt like I needed to leave everything neatly and with a road map to do so. This is just another example of my failed attempt to let my agenda be in the driver’s seat. Again, God laughs at me daily.   

Getting the Party Started

After our NP informed us we were having a baby, she also informed us that Dr. Bailey wasn’t in town. Normally, I would have used this time to panic about the only plan I made not going accordingly and having a doctor I didn’t know deliver my child; but, in all the ways that God delivers – he quickly quieted my soul. 

We ended up with an incredible labor and delivery team who talked us through every single step of the way. 

By Noon, I received a dose of pitocin to get things started. There, we began our 12-hour labor adventure. Because I wasn’t dilated even the smallest unit, it took what felt like forever. 

“Your having a baby, today!” equated to a few hours in my brain. 

Boy, was that the wrong assumption. 

By late afternoon, my body finally reached four centimeters.

I was very vocal about wanting an epidural as early as possible, but a part of me also wanted to see how far I could go before needing it. After four centimeters, the contractions were hitting every minute and a half… growing in intensity. 

I thought I was stronger.

I will proudly share here that I am not.

When the contractions got to be too much, the angels descended with an epidural in hand and all was right in the world.

Between this time and 10 p.m., we FaceTimed Staci and Kevin, had visits with family and a few friends, watched “Captain America – Civil War” and “Thor: Ragnarok” and grew hungrier and hungrier. Remember that pop-tart? That was the only food I had all day.

Around 9 p.m., they administered oxygen to help Wyatt move on down a little further.

Around 10 p.m., I was at the magic number.

Looking back, the whole thing felt pretty surreal and out-of-body. But when we hit 10 centimeters, I entered into an overwhelming tunnel of uncertainty and fear. Before they ushered everyone out of the room, I asked my dad to pray over us. When they left, the feelings continued to grow stronger. 

When the nurse walked in to get started, I looked at Nick with more fear than I had ever felt and told him I couldn’t do this specific thing, that my body wasn’t capable and that I was scared to fail. While I’d love to pin those tears and emotions on the amount of hormones coursing through my body – they weren’t responsible.

I was fully terrified of the responsibility that sat on my shoulders. 

I have lived most of my life with a “fake it until you make it” mentality. I hold a big bucket of pride for being willing and eager to work through obstacles, figuring it out as needed. 

I don’t always ask for help (to my detriment). Yet, as we entered the pushing phase… I was more vulnerable than I’ve ever been – openly admitting that I didn’t feel capable of the one job I had to do. 

The words Nick shared over me at that point were everything I needed (and more). He assured me I could do this whole thing, but it wasn’t just the words. It was a force of belief that was palpable. He believed enough for both of us.  

For another few hours, he held my hand, supported my back, changed the playlist when I was annoyed by the song… and during the moments when I felt my “I can do this” sentiment disintegrating into thin air – when I didn’t think I could keep going – he sensed what I felt and continued to encourage, count breaths and believe in me. 

I’m not sure I’ve ever truly accepted the idea of soul mates, but Wyatt’s birth validated they do exist and God put Nick on this earth to be my husband.  

When someone can fully step into a moment of vulnerability and carry the weight for you, it’s special and it’s rare. I didn’t think I could love him any more than I already did, but I don’t ever want to forget the single moment when we worked together to bring our son into the world. 

The next few hours were long and tough, with a much-needed break around the 11:30 p.m. mark. Wyatt wasn’t moving in the right direction very much. When he would make progress through pushing, he’d take several steps back during the rest breaks. Of course, I didn’t blame him. The world is a scary place.

There was talk of using a vacuum.
A c-section would be discussed if that didn’t work.
But, we decided to continue on a natural path.

The clock got closer to Midnight, and somewhere between another nurse and the doctor coming in, we pushed harder than I ever thought was possible… then, an entire team of people descended into the room just in time for Wyatt to make his entrance at 12:37 a.m. on December 30, 2023. 

I cried tears of joy and exhaustion at the same time.

I knew I would love him. I think that goes without saying. But, I just didn’t know how big or powerful that would feel.

I had no idea that I would feel so connected to someone so tiny, that my heart could explode and also that I would put everything in me on the line if necessary in one fell swoop.

Now, I can’t imagine life without him.

Stepping Into His Name

Wyatt means war strength, brave warrior. 
Davis means son of God, beloved. 

We were between two names when Nick suggested Wyatt. It was pulled from the list early-on but with a few weeks to go, Nick lobbed it back on the table.

Although Nick did do his fair share of campaigning, I wasn’t as convinced until I looked up the meaning behind the pair we were considering. 

We wanted his name to be short and strong, but having the meaning of the actual name speak life into that strength is something we want to continue to pray over him. We want him to always know that life is full of hard things, that he can be brave and a warrior – as he is called into his purpose. 

We also want him to know that while he is ours and we love him with a measurement that doesn’t exist, he is fully a son of God. 

The Journey Begins Here

The hours and days that have followed Wyatt’s official birthday have proven that motherhood isn’t just a title.

I feel like I’ve done a lot of hard things in my 37 years of existence, but man – I had no idea.

If you add in the BRUTAL punch of hormones that have jumped up and down and side to side, it’s safe to say that the inside of my brain looks and feels like mush at all times. But, I’m immensely grateful – to be on this journey with Nick and to be Wyatt’s mom. 

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” – Isaiah 41:10