I fell in love in high school, with a brown haired, green eyed girl...
We’re going to get into some graphic detail so those with weak stomachs might want to stop reading now. Everyone that didn’t stop reading, you have been warned. Ok, seriously, it was a trick. Now you can make fun of all your friends because they didn’t keep reading. Your friends do read my blog, right? Well why not?
So, we had our regularly scheduled appointment and found out that the doctor thought she was ready enough to have the baby that they scheduled an induction. I always thought an “induction” was when some got voted into a hall of fame, apparently it is also when labor is induced. Things I never knew…
This was a Wednesday, our anniversary as a matter of fact, the induction was scheduled for Friday at 7:30 AM. We only two more days to wait. We were giddy. Thursday took forever. It seemed like it would never end. I left work early on Friday morning, got home, picked up my beautiful wife and headed to the hospital.
We’d been waiting for this day for 9 years. Nothing could ruin it. We got to the hospital at 7:15 AM, headed in and got situated. Labor Room 12, this would be the place our baby boy took his first breath. Of course, at this point we didn’t know he was going to be a boy.
So, there we were in Labor Room 12, we met the labor nurse, she explained that she would be taking care of my wife until 7:00 PM (assuming we would be there that long). The nurse also explained that there were 4 admissions at the same time this morning, and that the admissions team were training someone, causing them to be very slow this morning.
Around 8:15 AM the admission team finally made it in and left about 30 minutes later. She was finally in the system and could have an IV inserted and a Pitocin drip started. For those that don’t know Pitocin is synthetic Oxytocin, the hormone that causes labor and all that jazz.
Ah, yes time for the IV, it has been documented that I have a fear of needles. We expressed this to the labor nurse. As the nurse was getting ready to insert the IV, in the arm on the side that I am sitting, I stand up and move so I cannot see it. I’m afraid that I made the nurse a bit nervous. I am a rather large man, I realize that my hovering behind someone who is trying to anything that requires concentration can be rather nerve-wracking. My hovering apparently did affect her, as she blew two of my wife’s veins. Sorry, baby.
Another nurse came in, popped in the IV and we were ready to go. Time to start the Pitocin. They increased the amount of Pitocin at random intervals. At least it seemed like random intervals. I’m not really sure.
At the start of all of this she was dilated (Why do we Americans pronounce dilation “DIE UH LAY SHUN”, when it’s clearly “DIE LAY SHUN”?) to a 4. This is considered active labor, so this seems like a good thing to me. Hour 1, no change. Hour 2, no change. This is going to be a long day.
Hour 3, the doctor shows up and breaks her water. We are informed that this should speed things up a bit. Now I’m not super squeamish but when the doctor pulled out a long plastic thing that looked like a knitting needle it kinda gave me the willies. Well, you can obviously imagine what the doctor did with that thing. If you can’t you probably aren’t old enough to understand most of my blog anyway.
Hour 4, she’s dilated to a 6. Moving quickly, indeed. Contractions are fairly regular and she’s really starting to notice them now. She decided from the start she wanted to do this as naturally as possible, so no epidural. I’m actually quite thankful for that, can you imagine me standing there watching as they jab a giant needle into the small of her back? Ugh.
Around this time, they brought in a birthing ball, also known as an exercise ball. Bouncing on the ball is supposed to relieve pressure and help with general pain. She was having back labor, so I was assigned to apply contra-pressure. While I thought this involved playing Nintendo games, it did not. Too bad, I had my Konami code ready to go for 30 extra lives. Nope, my job was to put pressure where she was feeling pain. This was clearly helping her, I felt like I actually had a purpose here.
Hour 5, she’s jumped from a 6 to an 8. Wowzer. No more ball, things are going quicker than even the nurse expected. Awesome. We discuss strategy at this point. We explain to the nurse that when the baby is born we don’t want someone yelling out whether it’s a boy or a girl. We have family outside the door and we want to announce the sex and the name in our own special way. The nurse thinks this is fantastic and promises to inform the delivery crew when they arrive.
Hour 6, we’re to a 9.5 as the nurse describes it. Oh, snap! Yes, that’s right I just used that. I realize that it sounds and looks ridiculous, but it shows just how crazy things are getting at this point. Fifteen minutes or so pass and the nurse calls the doctor and tells the doctor that pushing is going to start post-haste.
It should be mentioned that according to my wife, the “not pushing” phase is the hardest. There is apparently an unbelievable urge to push, but she was being told not to push. At this point I can really see the pain on her face, it totally crushes me. I mean, just seeing her in all this pain and knowing I can’t do a thing about it devastates me. At this point I’m half thinking maybe seeing that giant needle in her back would have been better. She’s determined though and she powers through it all.
Honestly, she is amazing. It’s time to push. She starts with her her calves in these leg cuff thingies. They virtually provide support under her legs so she can rest them, but they are useless for leverage. The nurse switches her over to these foot pad things. The nurse also pulls up handles. They look like joy sticks for flight simulators. Yes, everything relates back to video games, I just can’t help it.
So, there she is, hands on the joysticks, feet on the pads, and she’s pushing. It looks painful. It sounds painful. After each series of pushes, I tell her how great she is doing. I mean it. These are not empty compliments. She is amazing. I think I’ve said that before. Well, it’s true. She is. The pushing continues.
The nurse says, she can see the head! She tells me that there’s a bunch of hair. She asks me if I want to see it. I make a bold decision and look. This scene isn’t nearly as traumatic as I expected. I can see lots of dark hair. Wow.
So, it’s been about 20 minutes of pushing, the head is crowning. The nurse calls the doctor’s office and advises that the doctor get here immediately. This baby is on the way out. Luckily, the doctor was already in the labor and delivery unit, so she made her way into our room.
At this point, the doctor tells my wife to push. Seriously it takes like 2 really big pushes and bam there’s our baby! The doctor announces in a very loud voice, “Here is your new baby…”, and whispers “boy!” Success! Everyone now knows he is here, but has no idea if he’s a boy or a girl! AWESOME!!!
They ask me if I would like to cut the umbilical cord. I politely refuse. I figure that we’re paying for the doctors to take care of her, we might as well let them do all the dirty work. I realize that this is a controlled environment and that I am physically capable of doing this deed. However, I am not mentally prepared for this task. They place my little boy on my wife’s chest. He’s beautiful. I can’t even describe the emotion going through me at that point. She looks tired, relieved and excited all at the same time. The moment has come and our baby boy is here. Every heartache, every needle prick, every mishap, is all worth it.
After a few minutes, I notice they are still doing “work” on her. Inexplicably, I look to see what’s going. I realize my mistake as I see post-birth goods and what-not. I am fully satisfied with my view and abruptly turn my head. It is now my job to help keep the baby warm and my wife distracted. Distracting her is completely out of my hands, her attention is fully on our baby boy.
Some time later, only a few minutes from what I can tell, they ask me to bring the baby over to measure and weigh, and all that jazz. Mommy’s work is mostly done, but they don’t want her getting up just yet. I take pictures as I see my little boy measuring 20 inches long, 6 pounds 9 ounces. It’s truly amazing.
A few more minutes pass, I realize my phone is going nuts. Family (all outside our door) are texting me like crazy trying to figure out what we’ve named our child and whether or not it’s a boy or a girl. I lean down and discuss with Mommy what we’re going to name our beautiful little boy. We had decided on Keith as a middle name a long time ago in honor of my late father. This was the only thing we had truly decided on. We had a group of names for either a boy or a girl. After a few minutes and looking at him a little more, we decided on Nikolas.
Our plan was to write the name, size, weight, and birth time on one of my original drawings (that’s right, the truth is out, I draw the pictures) that we had printed out and slide it under the door. The picture designed for this post, is the one I actually used. I wrote his name, in my shakiest hand writing, again, the emotion of seeing me write my son’s name is absolutely indescribable. I chicken-scratched his details on the paper, made sure everyone was gathered around the door and slid it under the door. As I walked back to my wife and child, I heard the shouts of “It’s a BOY!” outside. We both smiled. The nurses and doctor smiled. All was well.
Our little boy was healthy, his mommy was already showing signs of recovery, and I was there watching them both, as proud as any person could be. After all this waiting, I am posting a real picture of our little boy. With that my friends, this is the end of my FatherTrek.
No, I’m just kidding, there’s a ton more in store. The fun has just begun.
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