On November 22, 2019, at 8:55 p.m I not only did I give birth to my son, but I gave birth to the new Mattye. I wish I had a crystal ball to have predicted what that day would unfold. It started with the same routine, waking up, devotion, breakfast, and making my way to school. I was ready for the weekend to begin. At 3:05, I flew down the back stairwell, headed to my car, and made my way to my Drs appointment. At this point in my pregnancy, everything was normal up until this point. As the nurses checked my vitals, I was talking to my mom about the crab dip and pretzels I wanted after the appointment.
My dr came in and said the words that any mommy dreads hearing, "Your numbers are too high, I called the hospital, they're waiting for you, she said." I instantly started crying. Because I knew that it was too early for him to be born, he still had about a month left. So my mother and I made our way to Annapolis. I cried silently to myself, looking out the window, was it my fault? Did I push my body too hard? Was I worrying and stressing too much? The thoughts consumed me. We arrived at the hospital. I was shaking like leaf. I made three phone calls that day. One to my best friend, which is crazy because she is a mommy too and rarely answers the phone, but that day she answered. I am not sure if God was telling her that I needed her or what, but I thank God she did. We talked for a little bit and laughed, and hung the phone up. The second call was to my work best friend, she was on standby just in case I needed anything. The third call was my cheer family to let them know that I was not going to make the game that night. Crazy, but I didn't want them to worry when I didn't show up. We walk into the labor and delivery emergency room. As I laid on the bed listening to my son's heartbeat, I started to talk to my mom about how this was not apart of the plan. I had to remind myself that I was never in charge. God knew that I was supposed to be right where I was when I needed to be. The Dr came in, and I saw her face, Mattye we have to admit you due to onset preeclampsia. I have never cried so hard in my life. I was nervous for me/my son/and my family. I tried to bargain with the Dr so I could go home and finish my lesson plans, and I would come back at midnight. Once again, not apart of the plan. We entered the birthing suite, everything all ready to welcome a new baby in the world. As I sat in the bed nervously, scared, anxious, happy, excited, and frightened, but I REFUSED to give the devil any more room to win. The doctor said, "We're going to have this baby this weekend!" I called my family to let them know that Declan was making his arrival sooner than expected. As we started the induction, Declan was not feeling it. The doctor and her team rushed into the room, "We're going in for an emergency c-section." Declan's heart rate was going up and down. It is safer for him to be delivered. The tears began to fall.
As my family made their way to the hospital, I let the doctor know that they couldn't take me back yet, because I needed to pray with my family. They made it in the nick of time. My brother said the prayer, and off I went. As I entered the operating room alone, I prayed my little heart out. I prayed that everything goes according to plan. I prayed that my baby is born happy and healthy. I prayed that my body would heal correctly. And just like that, God put a ram in the bush. One of the nurses in the operating room with me was a former cheer parent, which put my mind at ease. It was time for the spinal tap, which was painless. I laid on the table, with my mommy holding my hand. The nurse asked a question, is there a station that you would like to listen to, and before I could say a word, my mom blurts out, "GOSPEL."
The re-birth was underway. Lamar's Campbell, More than Anything was the song that was playing as my son was being born. He came out with the lungs of a lion, a sigh of relief because although he was small, he was perfectly healthy. He had all ten toes and ten fingers. But the joy of him being born was short-lived when they whisked him away and letting me know that I would not be able to see or hold him for the next 24hrs. What started as a typical day turned out to be the day that I not only gave birth to my beautiful son, but it is also the day that I was reborn. I gave birth to my purpose, my reason, and most importantly my WHY.
The day I gave birth to Declan, I gave birth to the new Mattye. The rebirth of Mattye taps into strength. The strength to be a single momma to a black boy, where there are already guns pointed at him because of his skin color. It comes with pride because despite all that I have been through, with his dad and my self-doubt, I can walk in with my head held high because I know I can do this. It also comes with letting my pride down. And I know that sounds crazy but I hate asking for help. But asking for help does not make me less of a mom, it makes me a better one. It comes with hope. Hope, that I no longer doubt myself and trust my gut and God that all things will work out. So I leave you with this, I am a single momma, what is your superpower?