Benjamin Wayne Myers

September 8, 2019

March 26th, 2019: 4:57 p.m.

March 26th, 2019: 4:57 p.m.

It started over laundry.

For some reason, I knew in my spirit that Ben would arrive earlier than his due date. I had this sense that I needed to take a bit more time off before the date on my doctor’s calendar because I knew I needed time and space to ready my mind and my body.  I didn’t want to go from my typical break-neck pace at work, juggling 130 students and their needs to landing in a hospital room. 

So I submitted the forms and smiled comfortably when people gave surprised looks in response to the three weeks I was taking before his expected arrival. (Aside: I will always encourage moms to take all the time off they want, even if that means putting groceries on a credit card.)

I created space and I filled it in all the best ways. I took time to pick Will up early and volunteered at his school. I went to the park with friends. I walked on the beach trail and binged Dax Shepard podcasts while I climbed every staircase I could find as many times as possible. I went to Trader Joe’s BY MYSELF (Glory, be).

And then one Tuesday morning, a week before the planned arrival, I bent down to get the laundry out and, like every textbook tells you, I felt a pop and all of a sudden my maternity leggings were drenched.

March 26th, 2019: 10:15 a.m.

March 26th, 2019: 10:15 a.m.

Everyone said it would go fast the second time around but I didn’t believe them. In a classic desire to be 100% in control of my mind without influence of other parties, I did whatever I wanted to in the moment. So after my water broke, my mom, sister, Will, and I piled into our Pilot and we went to the beach trail. And I climbed more stairs.

In hindsight, this picture makes me queasy. Knowing now that there was a three hour distance between me at the top of this hill and when Ben came out makes me cringe a little. 

But in that moment, I felt some slight cramping or movement, but nothing regular or painful. A few minutes after that we drove home, and I started folding the laundry that caused this whole raucous in the first place. Task, check, complete. The rhythm of efficiency soothing my mind as I gulped for air and a sense of peace. 


Like last time, I will spare the intimate details of the birth, but here are the key highlights. 

12:00 p.m. — Contractions begin

  • Contractions started, one right on top of the other. From slight cramping to three minutes apart with almost no break in between. 

12:40 p.m. — Hospital bound

  • Decided to leave for the hospital (I know, I know. I should have gone earlier. I’ll keep that in mind should we do this again.)

  • Kasey hustled to get Will to Heather, Bonnie prepped us all to leave, and my mom and Debbie gathered me and blankets for the car in case we became one of those roadside deliveries.

12:42 p.m. —  La Croix!

  • Kasey cracked open his La Croix to enjoy a leisure drink while I was in the deepest, most excruciating part of labor in the backseat. Ahhh, marriage. 

1:00 p.m. — We arrived at the hospital!

  • Despite almost killing me with his leisure drink sips, my sweet husband got us safely to the hospital in record time.

1:10 p.m. — Check-in

  • Bent over the desk to have a mind-numbingly painful contraction, I tried to rattle off info to the nurse. Clearly that proved beneficial to expediting the whole process because

1:11 pm. — Admitted into triage 

  • At this time, I was doneso. I remember thinking, I have this secret. I know everyone here thinks I want to deliver naturally, but actually, I don’t care about any of that AT ALL. Not one bit.  I cannot do this anymore. I can’t think straight, I physically cannot deal with this pain any longer. I’ll take whatever they offer me and say hop to it.  

1:13 p.m. — Triage, baby!

  • Skip the real delivery room and get the baby out here in triage. While the exact details are foggy, my recollection is this: I was about to wave the hospital bedding like a white flag and then one of the nurses said this: “I think our plan is to just get the baby out.” YES. Amen, and I’ll name my next child after you. 

1:40 p.m. — Benjamin Wayne Myers came out and was plopped onto my chest

  • What happened in those 30 minutes has changed me forever. I remember thinking, so profoundly, that I couldn’t do it. And then I heard my husband’s confident voice championing me and my strength, my mom encouraging me and telling me I was close, and my hero of a nurse right next to my ear convincing me that I could do it. And I did. I had spent the last hour and a half in pain that clouded my mind and grabbed hold of my sense of reality. But then, when I thought I was all gone, I found it. I found myself, I found my strength, I found my courage. It wasn’t gone, it was just hiding out, waiting for me to dig even deeper into my reserves.


In the deepest moments of his delivery, I found myself in prayer. It was an innate reaction to the pain, an inherent request for God to show up and provide when I had nothing left. It was sacred and holy, just like the birth of his older brother. It was the two-fold miracle: my child and me. 

And so, Ben was born. He is a miracle to us and a sweet, sweet part of our family that we needed so badly. 

But this is the miraculous that happened in me through Ben’s birth: I have what it takes. And what’s more is that I believe that in such a way that I wear it like skin, both covering me from doubt and reflecting the deep well of strength on this inside. My answer to prayer, in ways that I asked and in ways I didn’t know I needed. 

I am enough, my mind is enough, and I have enough within me to give, to reach further, outside of the lines I’ve drawn for myself. My  body and my mind have a capacity I didn’t know existed, and I experienced my potential in a visceral way in those rapid moments before his skin touched mine for the first time. It was a gift to carry and deliver him, and it is a gift that he changed me, to cause me to believe in myself as his mother and my own person in a renewed way. 

Benjamin Wayne Myers, I’ll love you forever.

March 26th, 2019 @ 1:40 p.m. // 8 lbs, 3 oz // 21.5 inches

Work with me

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hey, i'm corrie!

I help people-driven companies, large and small, connect with their kind of people with brand voice strategy + personalized copy. A believer in public schools and Ted Lasso, I love getting to champion the best version of your brand. 

March 26th, 2019: 4:57 p.m.

March 26th, 2019: 4:57 p.m.

It started over laundry.

For some reason, I knew in my spirit that Ben would arrive earlier than his due date. I had this sense that I needed to take a bit more time off before the date on my doctor’s calendar because I knew I needed time and space to ready my mind and my body.  I didn’t want to go from my typical break-neck pace at work, juggling 130 students and their needs to landing in a hospital room. 

So I submitted the forms and smiled comfortably when people gave surprised looks in response to the three weeks I was taking before his expected arrival. (Aside: I will always encourage moms to take all the time off they want, even if that means putting groceries on a credit card.)

I created space and I filled it in all the best ways. I took time to pick Will up early and volunteered at his school. I went to the park with friends. I walked on the beach trail and binged Dax Shepard podcasts while I climbed every staircase I could find as many times as possible. I went to Trader Joe’s BY MYSELF (Glory, be).

And then one Tuesday morning, a week before the planned arrival, I bent down to get the laundry out and, like every textbook tells you, I felt a pop and all of a sudden my maternity leggings were drenched.

March 26th, 2019: 10:15 a.m.

March 26th, 2019: 10:15 a.m.

Everyone said it would go fast the second time around but I didn’t believe them. In a classic desire to be 100% in control of my mind without influence of other parties, I did whatever I wanted to in the moment. So after my water broke, my mom, sister, Will, and I piled into our Pilot and we went to the beach trail. And I climbed more stairs.

In hindsight, this picture makes me queasy. Knowing now that there was a three hour distance between me at the top of this hill and when Ben came out makes me cringe a little. 

But in that moment, I felt some slight cramping or movement, but nothing regular or painful. A few minutes after that we drove home, and I started folding the laundry that caused this whole raucous in the first place. Task, check, complete. The rhythm of efficiency soothing my mind as I gulped for air and a sense of peace. 


Like last time, I will spare the intimate details of the birth, but here are the key highlights. 

12:00 p.m. — Contractions begin

  • Contractions started, one right on top of the other. From slight cramping to three minutes apart with almost no break in between. 

12:40 p.m. — Hospital bound

  • Decided to leave for the hospital (I know, I know. I should have gone earlier. I’ll keep that in mind should we do this again.)

  • Kasey hustled to get Will to Heather, Bonnie prepped us all to leave, and my mom and Debbie gathered me and blankets for the car in case we became one of those roadside deliveries.

12:42 p.m. —  La Croix!

  • Kasey cracked open his La Croix to enjoy a leisure drink while I was in the deepest, most excruciating part of labor in the backseat. Ahhh, marriage. 

1:00 p.m. — We arrived at the hospital!

  • Despite almost killing me with his leisure drink sips, my sweet husband got us safely to the hospital in record time.

1:10 p.m. — Check-in

  • Bent over the desk to have a mind-numbingly painful contraction, I tried to rattle off info to the nurse. Clearly that proved beneficial to expediting the whole process because

1:11 pm. — Admitted into triage 

  • At this time, I was doneso. I remember thinking, I have this secret. I know everyone here thinks I want to deliver naturally, but actually, I don’t care about any of that AT ALL. Not one bit.  I cannot do this anymore. I can’t think straight, I physically cannot deal with this pain any longer. I’ll take whatever they offer me and say hop to it.  

1:13 p.m. — Triage, baby!

  • Skip the real delivery room and get the baby out here in triage. While the exact details are foggy, my recollection is this: I was about to wave the hospital bedding like a white flag and then one of the nurses said this: “I think our plan is to just get the baby out.” YES. Amen, and I’ll name my next child after you. 

1:40 p.m. — Benjamin Wayne Myers came out and was plopped onto my chest

  • What happened in those 30 minutes has changed me forever. I remember thinking, so profoundly, that I couldn’t do it. And then I heard my husband’s confident voice championing me and my strength, my mom encouraging me and telling me I was close, and my hero of a nurse right next to my ear convincing me that I could do it. And I did. I had spent the last hour and a half in pain that clouded my mind and grabbed hold of my sense of reality. But then, when I thought I was all gone, I found it. I found myself, I found my strength, I found my courage. It wasn’t gone, it was just hiding out, waiting for me to dig even deeper into my reserves.


In the deepest moments of his delivery, I found myself in prayer. It was an innate reaction to the pain, an inherent request for God to show up and provide when I had nothing left. It was sacred and holy, just like the birth of his older brother. It was the two-fold miracle: my child and me. 

And so, Ben was born. He is a miracle to us and a sweet, sweet part of our family that we needed so badly. 

But this is the miraculous that happened in me through Ben’s birth: I have what it takes. And what’s more is that I believe that in such a way that I wear it like skin, both covering me from doubt and reflecting the deep well of strength on this inside. My answer to prayer, in ways that I asked and in ways I didn’t know I needed. 

I am enough, my mind is enough, and I have enough within me to give, to reach further, outside of the lines I’ve drawn for myself. My  body and my mind have a capacity I didn’t know existed, and I experienced my potential in a visceral way in those rapid moments before his skin touched mine for the first time. It was a gift to carry and deliver him, and it is a gift that he changed me, to cause me to believe in myself as his mother and my own person in a renewed way. 

Benjamin Wayne Myers, I’ll love you forever.

March 26th, 2019 @ 1:40 p.m. // 8 lbs, 3 oz // 21.5 inches

Work with me

hey, i'm corrie!

I help people-driven companies, large and small, connect with their kind of people with brand voice strategy + personalized copy. A believer in public schools and Ted Lasso, I love getting to champion the best version of your brand. 

share this post

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