Brooklynn Eva Thatcher - 7 lbs, 7 oz, 19.5" long - born 9/10/08

The Arrival:
This story begins at 5:30 a.m. Wednesday morning - exactly two weeks away from my due date. Having just seen my mid-wife the previous afternoon, I was sure that everything was right on schedule. She had explained that the baby was posterior, but that she was also turning and my muscles were doing what they needed to to help her get there. The appointment ended with the Danielle smiling and saying "now, don't deliver before Monday because I'm going out of town tomorrow through the weekend". I laughed, thinking how weird it was that it was only two weeks away.
Everything was going normal until about 3 pm when I started having what felt like contractions. I called Brent, who was golfing in a tournament and told him what was happening. He reminded me what Danielle had said the day before and said my body was just getting her ready.
I took a deep breath and began teaching my afternoon lessons. At about 4 pm the contractions were getting strong enough that I started making note of what time it was when they came. After several, it was obvious that they were coming exactly 40 minutes apart. This continued until they got so strong that I had to stop lessons and leave the room so I could concentrate through them. At about 6 pm I knew I couldn't keep teaching any longer and I called and cancelled my last two students. At 6:30 Brent came home and I spent some time curled up on the floor sobbing as he stayed on the phone with my doula. A side note here for how much I love my doula. She brought with her an unending amount of courage and calm that I could not have produced on my own. With her on the phone Brent relayed how I was feeling and what was going on. She suggested that I go to the hospital because the contractions had quickly gone from 40 minutes apart to now 5 minutes apart all within an hour. I resisted because I have been told by so many sources that if you are planning on an unmedicated birth, one of the best things you can do is wait as long as possible before going to the hospital. But suddenly my contractions started coming every 2 1/2 minutes and they were more intense then I could have possibly imagined. This was quickly followed by me throwing up all over the front room. Brent was suddenly running around the house trying to pack a bag for me, while once again on the phone with Angie, who insisted we drop everything and start driving. At this point we had accelerated so fast that I was sure I couldn't get in the car. Brent said "Melissa, we can't have the baby here" and I said "Brent, I can't get in the car". He turned white and said, "you need to get in the car". I did the only thing I could do - which was crawl onto the back seat on my hands and knees and crouch there on all fours as he drove 900 miles an hour to the hospital. Each time a contraction came, now only about 60 seconds apart, I would say "here it comes" and Brent would start talking me through the breathing as I tried to understand how anything could ever be so painful.
We pulled up to the hospital vallet and stumbled into the reception area to find a line of people waiting to be helped. Brent called up to the receptionist "hey, we're having a baby here!" to which the nurse looked up with a stone face and said curtly "so is the lady in front of you." I glanced over to see a woman with perfect make up and obviously not one contraction slowly filling out a form. I groaned and leaned over the table. A nurse in the back took notice of us and quickly came to my side, ushering us past the line and into a room where she told me to get undressed so I could be checked. Angie, our doula, arrived at this point and began stroking my hair and pushing on pressure points. It immediately cut my pain back and I was able to breathe. After a quick overview, the nurse looked at me and said "you're dilated to a nine". "A what?!" I shouted and looked at Brent. We had bags of CD's I'd compiled of great music, dozens of relaxation scripts I'd practiced and months and months of anticipating the longest labor of the century - the which I was convinced I would experience because it was my first baby, and because I had chosen to do it unmedicated.
However, this baby - two weeks early and all - had other plans. Suddenly everything happened at once. I looked at Angie and in a slightly panicked voice said "Angie, I have to push". She calmly replied "then push". Which I did, and pop there went my water. The room was immediately filled with people - 3 doctors, 4 nurses and not a mid wife to be seen. My beautiful supportive doctor was not yet even on vacation - she just lived 30 minutes away and was driving as fast as she could down Parley's Canyon.
The doctor on call did a fantastic job though and through the series of many emotional moments, our baby girl was born. Her heart rate dropped dramatically during birth because of how fast everything went - which put the doctors into a frantic spin giving me oxygen and then quickly deciding to do an episiotomy to get her out. My doula was a saint - the only voice I remember through the whole process was her quiet coaching to keep breathing, telling me I was strong and could do this. I do remember one point saying "Angie, am I going to die?" She replied "no." to which I responded "please, can I?"
Brent was my silent strength and a voice on my behalf. I couldn't have done it without him holding my hand the whole time. All these months of joking that he'd be in the other room watching TV so he wouldn't faint - but of coarse when things got hard, he was there stroking my face, enduring with me, and championing me on. He claims that I may have injured his hand for life from squeezing so hard . . . so I guess we both sacrificed something physically. :)
And that's how 3 hours of "in denial contractions", 1 hour of staying home trying to get our bags together, an extremely fast drive to the hospital under one of the most beautiful sunset skies this month, 30 minutes of active labor (including 9 whole minutes of pushing) . . . .after having checked into the hospital at 8:05 pm, that 27 minutes later our Brooklynn, with all that hair, came into the world.

The Name:
Brooklynn is named after many facets. The most obvious is the New York roots that Brent and I share. Although we both grew up in Utah, it took us moving to New York City to meet. Out of a lack of other appropriate borough names (we weren't too fond of Queens as a first name) we chose Brooklynn to represent where it all began. The spelling is chosen because of the name Lynn, Brent's grandfather's name on his mother's side. Brent was at his bedside when he passed away in 1996. A man who had a deep love of the outdoor country, horses, and especially dogs, Grandpa Reeder was known for his ability to train animals and his charming charisma with people.
Just before he passed away, Brent, who had spent over 5 years looking for the girl he was supposed to marry, asked his Grandpa that once on the other side, he help him find that girl.
It was 8 years later that I met Brent in New York. (He still is frustrated that it took that long). We were both shocked that in the city that never sleeps, he - born and raised on a farm - and I - an animal lover who always wanted to live in the country - would meet. I'll never forget the day that Brent looked at me and said "My Grandpa lead you to me, in fact, I think he hand picked you. You two would have really gotten along". At that moment I didn't know the full extent of what that sentence meant, but since, I have learned to love the memory of this man.

We chose the middle name Eva from Agatha Eva Katharine Reeder, Grandpa Lynn's mother, and our Brooklynn's Great Great Grandmother. She was an extraordinary woman, but one virtue in particular that she magnified is the reason we wanted our daughter to carry her name. It is a story of the value of attitude. Grandma Eva raised her family during the depression, when even the sturdiest of supplies was waning. However, Grandpa Lynn recalled that the only thing that stood as a reminder to him that things were hard was that his overalls had patches on them. Although they were a full house on a less than meager income, their home was full of laughter and light - and in his memory things were never that bad. Grandpa Lynn eventually married a woman who came from a very high social class and a lot of money. Her description of the same years were grey and dismal. She, like the majority of the population who lived through it, described them of some of the hardest times in her life. The lack of what they had determined everyone's outlook - she recalls the years as full of endless struggles.
This lesson is one that I cherish. One mother's attitude was able to alter the whole state of being in her home at a time when the nation as a whole was struggling. I'm sure it was not easy nor comfortable for her - but her outlook on life made it easier for everyone else, and the situation was then supplemented and sustained on the rich things she could offer: family, laughter, love, and God.

The name Brooklynn comes from English origin, meaning "Water". Eva is of Hebrew origin, meaning "Life" or "Living One". Therefore, we felt it also appropriate that the two combined relay the message of "living water". It is a Christ centered name - we hope a reminder that everything that touches Him lives, and that our lives should always be nurtured by his Living Water.