My mother is fabulous. She had come to stay with Harper while we went to the hospital. I felt so happy that she was home taking care of Harps through the night. I called her and asked her to bring Harper up in the morning when they woke up. If things moved quickly I would call her with that update and have them come sooner. I had really looked forward to telling some select people when I was in labor. So I called a few people. My sisters didn't answer their phones. I was pissed. I wanted to use the, "I'm having a baby" tone on them. Eventually they got back to me. They came and checked on me in the middle of the night before going back home to take care of their own tiny babies. I called my friend. Her family was in from out of town, her tiny baby was keeping her up nights, and she had a lot of bad hospital hours logged with me already. I thought she would squeal and tell me to call her every time something new happened and come see me in the morning. She didn't. She said, "don't have the baby in the next twenty minutes." She hung up and brought that baby and camped out all night long. In fact, she didn't leave until the baby was born, 19 hours later. Her husband came. My brother in law Marky came. They sat up in the lobby all night. I felt so loved. I felt so peaceful. My two sets of in-laws came. Jake's parents had been dealing with a small family crisis and came up after midnight to see how we were in person. Matt's parents came up and said, "Mol! You're having a baby!" One of the sweetest moment I have ever known was when that night my father-in-law Brian stood by my bed and fed me italian ices. All my people were for us. They were rallying around us. Happy for us. Happy for this baby to be coming. Happy to be in a hospital together to bring new life into this world instead of telling someone we loved goodbye. It was a time of healing.
The next afternoon a small boy was born. He was eight pounds even of pure deliciousness. He charmed us immediately. He made us all happier. He wound us all the more tightly together. We named him Everett Gray. We find Everett to be a nice sounding name and it had some subtle components that really mean a lot to us. The name has elements of Waverley and Matt's name in it. I had wanted to name him after my father in law Brian in some way, and Everett means strong and courageous; as strong as a boar. Brian's college nickname was The Crane because he is so strong. He is still in possession of an almost bizarrely strong form. He also has a quiet strength that I pray Everett shares. His initials are EGL which reminds us of the word eagle. Jake's grandfather was dear to him. He loved a particular Bible verse about soaring on wings like eagles. Yes. This was the name for our son.
I had prayed for a good head of brown hair. After the dark beauties in my life I just couldn't get excited about a little blondie. God agreed that would not be for the best. Everett had lots of dark brown hair. He had long feet and big hands. He looked at me and winked. Not really. But he wanted to.
I had been so scared to have a son. And let's get real. Some parts are gross. Harper suggested holding an umbrella while we change his diaper. This morning I was holding my baby son while it was still dark out. Giving him a bottle. When I was done I had him at my shoulder. He was snuggled into me and breathing quietly in my ear. A perfect, tiny person in fire engine jammies. I whispered how much I love him and how I always will. And I longed for a thousand more perfect boys just like him.