My Sweet Wayland
By Celena Carlson
My sweet Wayland,
I could easily tell your birth story by each contraction, but when I close my eyes and think about that night I went into labor, that’s not what I see, feel or remember.
The memories play like a film as I watch your Daddy lovingly make the bed and fill the birth pool like he had been preparing to do for months. I sense the uncertainty that came with those first few contractions, then the sheer excitement that followed with the realization that I was going to meet you soon.
I relive sitting in the pool, looking around and seeing your brothers, Emm, Tia Tisha, Daddy and our midwives holding space and sending love as I labored you earthside.
I can still feel the gentle touch of your brother, Sheamus, who was still wearing his pajamas, as he rubbed my back and held my hand during the hardest contractions.
I love the moments your Daddy was supporting me while I squatted and lunged; we worked together to help you move down and get ready to join us.
I linger in the caring way my Mom, your Emm, stroked my hair and held my hand, letting me squeeze as hard as needed— I was so astonished at my ability to push harder with each escalating contraction. I yelled, screamed and roared as I bared down desperately trying to bring an end to a labor that was so different than I expected.
I could feel your head coming out and reached down to be first to touch the top of your soft, wet, wrinkly head. I felt so strong, so powerful, in that moment, as if I were a goddess born for the sole purpose of bringing you into the world.
I can visualize the moment everyone sprung into action as I proclaimed, “There’s his head!” Hayley, one our midwives, reached down to catch you. Tara, our photographer rushed to capture the moment you emerged. Your Tia Tisha and your brothers began making their way back into the room to meet you. Your Daddy watched as his third sweet baby joined us. Their excitement was almost palpable.
Those last few pushes brought you earthside and you were handed to me from between my legs, your arms stretched out and eyes still closed. You were speckled pink and red and white. You were warm and wet.
The feelings of joy and relief and love can be replicated by no other moment in life. I remember happiness filling the room to the brim. I see your brothers looking at you in awe, in love. I see your Daddy stroke your head. You embodied pure love. So much love.
My labor with you was not my first and I don’t know if it will be my last, but it was special and perfect. I wouldn’t wish to change any part of my labor with you because it was what brought us together. I can’t remember what our family was like without you. When I close my eyes and think about the morning you were born, I see our fresh family of five together on the bed, each of us examining all your tiny features, smelling your fresh baby head, touching your delicate fingers and toes, and looking passionately into your sweet little eyes.
Your birth was beautiful, my sweet Wayland.
Celena Carlson - I’m a mother to three beautiful boys, Sheamus (4), Maverick (2) and Wayland. I’m passionate about all births and feel each is a miracle in its own right. I teach Bradley Method childbirth education classes and love being a part of each families journey through pregnancy labor and birth. IG @mothermadebirth Website: mothermadebirth.com