Over the next several months, Pam’s hope faded. After setbacks, they turned to IVF with an unknown donor. Brittany carried Pam’s egg. Each sunrise brought quiet dreams of their new life.

Those early months passed with hope and anxiety. Then, about a year into this final effort, I stood in the bathroom, uncertainty in my mind. Pam was sleeping after returning from the road, unaware of the morning’s significance. I dipped the test and set it on the counter. Two lines appeared, and a single wave of relief came over me. My desire to give Pam a baby of her own returned, though Cici and Nicole were already hers. With nerves, I entered the bedroom quietly, hands trembling, and woke her. Pam, waking, asked, “Britty, are you ok?” as I sat on the edge of the bed and handed her the test. Her eyes went wide. She said, “Are you serious?” “We’re gonna be moms again,” I said. The months that followed were spent preparing, until finally, we reached the day we had been waiting for. The wait led us to the moment when everything would change again.

9 Months to the day:
Exactly nine months after that positive test, as labor began, Pam cleared her schedule, remembering Nicole’s fast birth. At my last OB appointment, I felt uncomfortable. I tried a hot shower, but a sudden gush told me things had changed. “Pam!” I called. When she didn’t answer, I asked Alexa, “Pam, come to the bathroom, please?” I heard her footsteps. Pam joked when she entered, “Did you get stuck again?” Her tone changed when she saw. “My water broke. Can you get the bags? I’ll meet you downstairs,” I said, heart pounding as she hurried away.

“I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m going home,” I yelled, exhausted and peeling tape from my IV. The pain was overwhelming. Pam pressed her face to mine, trying to comfort me. “You’re almost done, just a little longer, Britt,” Pam told me. The epidural did nothing. “You bitch. This is your baby. Don’t say it’s almost over when I’m the one in pain,” I shouted, my voice raw.

After thirty hours, I reached my limit. “That’s it, he’s staying in there. I’m going home,” I said, trying to sit up. Dr. Equate said, “Brittany, you’re almost there. I can see his head. Just a few more pushes and Karrion will be here.” As another contraction hit, I grew frustrated. “Just get him out of me.” I closed my legs and curled up. The doctor explained that if I didn’t push, I would need a c-section and Pam couldn’t be there. Pam pressed her face to mine. “Brittany Marie, you’re the strongest woman I know. Just a few more pushes,” Pam encouraged. I said, “I’m not strong. I don’t want to do this anymore.” Pam moved behind me and curled against my back. “I’ve got you,” she whispered. In that moment, her presence reassured me.

Moments later, relief came as I heard his cries and slumped against Pam’s chest. Almost instantly, disorientation set in. “Brittany,” Pam called, sounding far away. “Brittany, open your eyes, babe.” I could hear Pam’s worry, but helplessness set in. I still heard everything as I drifted into darkness. “Maternal Code Purple, Maternal Code Purple,” someone shouted.

“Why am I at the club?” I thought. I’m supposed to be enjoying my new baby. Pam’s voice echoed in my mind: “Hi, I’m Pam. You really need to meet my son, he’s perfect. You’re gonna be mine.” I wondered if I was dreaming.

When I opened my eyes again, confusion dominated as I noticed Pam sleeping in the chair next to my bed. Just then, the door opened and a nurse entered quietly, careful not to wake Pam. “Oh, you’re awake. You gave the Ob ward quite a scare. How are you feeling, are you in any pain?” the nurse asked as she checked monitors and then examined me. The gravity of what had happened made anxiety bubble up. “What happened?” I asked, my voice tight with concern. “You gave birth to that beautiful baby boy, and you had what they call a uterine prolapse, which is where your uterus turned inside out. They rushed you into emergency surgery, but unfortunately, they couldn’t save your uterus—they had to do a hysterectomy,” the nurse explained, patting my hand. The loss left me silent. “How long have I been out?” I asked, realizing I had missed Karrion’s first hours. “About four and a half hours. Your wife was a force—it was impossible to get her to leave your little boy’s side until we brought you up to PPD. Would you like to meet your son?” she asked, calling over her radio before another nurse arrived, pushing in a little wooden bassinet.

Pam stirred awake. “Hey you,” she said, getting up to give me a kiss. “You did great, Brittany, but don’t scare me like that again. I thought I was going to lose you. There was a lot of blood, and all I could do was hold you and wait,” she said. “I love you, Pammy Rose. I’m never leaving you if I can help it,” I replied as the nurse handed me Karrion in a blue blanket. “Pammy, he has your eyes and nose,” I said. “He looks a bit like Nicole, and before you ask, no one has held him besides me, the doctor, and the nursery staff. He has a perfect bill of health.” She kissed me on the side of the head.

I was released from the hospital 5 days later. In the weeks and months following, things were hectic, but so good. Pam took an extended time off so she didn’t miss any of Karrion’s first months of life. That summer, Cici turned 17 and moved away to university, and in October Nicole turned 13. Gradually, we moved into a routine as a family of five.

Never Til Now- Never til I walked into that club and heard Pam say, “Hi, I’m Pam,” did I know what my life would be. I never planned to settle with anyone but my girls. I never expected to add a third child, let alone a son. Never til now did I know what true love was, and I’m happy with my story.