Birth Story - His View

The wife has bugged, the wife has badgered, I dragged my feet, and now finally here it is! At long last! Before I forget! Before it passes into oft-repeated myths and legends.

The birth story.

This will be my second time to write up this account, as the first time I wrote it misty-eyed, holding Guy in one arm, and laboriously typing with the other. Unfortunately Blogger messed everything up when I went in to continue working on the account and I hit undo. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but for some reason it completely deleted everything that I had typed and instantly saved. Of course it wouldn't let me undo the undo, so all was lost. I spent about two hours trying to recover the post by accessing the raw saved memory in the browser. Alas, I couldn't find it.

On the first of August we had the external version (breached baby flipping procedure) scheduled for the morning. I, of course, had done a bunch of reading on the procedure in the days leading up to it. Jennifer was really hoping for a natural birth, and was working very hard to achieve one. The version sounded like a procedure that would have a high probability to increase the chance of a natural birth without a lot of risk due to the conveniences of modern medicine. They perform the procedure next to the c-section room just in case there is an emergency. The risks I looked up seem to be very low, but the procedure was not always successful. Of course the scary and remote possibility was that something would go wrong and they would have to do an emergency section.

So as dutiful patients, we fully prepared for the worst case scenario. We packed all of our hospital bags, and informed our employers about the possibility. The oft-repeated mantra for the day was that if we fully prepared for it, it would not happen. So of course it did.

We headed up to the labor and delivery area of the hospital giddily imagining what it would like to be there when it was really our turn. Jennifer got all prepped up for the procedure with her poor pregnant (relatively) empty belly as she could not eat or drink that morning. I'd only had a half cup of coffee in our haste to get there at 7:30am.

The doctor finally came in and examined Jennifer. It became very obvious very quickly that the procedure was not going to go forward as planned because Jennifer was too dilated. What took a little bit longer to sink in was the fact that the doctor was beginning to explain all of the risks and benefits of a c-section performed as soon as it could be scheduled that morning.

A few hours later Jennifer was being whisked away for her spinal block and the section. Before that however, we had an hour or two of waiting. Of course Jennifer was hooked up to IV fluids and no catheter, so we made several awkward trips back and forth between the bathroom. I began the onslaught of texts that informed people that we would most definitely not be available anytime soon. Of course when you open those particular text floodgates, they are pretty hard to close. Jennifer insisted that we inform her boss before our parents. I guess she had her priorities!

I ended up running a quick errand of filling up my belly with some horribly stale hospital pastry thing and guzzling down the rest of my coffee from my thermos mug. On my worried and excited journey through the hospital I received a phone call from my dentist reminding me that my appointment was tomorrow. I informed them that I was happy that they called because I was actually going to have to reschedule because I was having a baby. She replied that they required a two business day notice for rescheduling. I was a incredulous at first and laughed because I really didn't care. After chatting for a minute she assured me that this was probably not going to be a problem. I would hope not!

So, back in the room, Jennifer and I were giddy about the fact that we were about to be parents. The doctors, nurses, and peanut gallery finally whisked Jennifer away from me. We started getting nervous. Jennifer most definitely did not want to do the anesthesia. I awkwardly scrubbed up and sat there nervously deciding when to put on my face mask. I sat for a good twenty minutes while they got her ready. This was killer. Everything we had done to prepare had been with me there as support, and I was stuck in a separate room. I still think this part is a bunch of bull-honky. My dad explained the necessity of it from a medical perspective, but I still think it's just some kind of insurance and litigation requirement and a convenience for the doctors.

So I sat there nervously looking around, watching people move pass the tiny window in the operating room. I could only sit and hope that everything was going alright. Finally the doctor came out and told me that she was doing fine, and just nervous. Relieved of one worry, I could concentrate on all of the rest.

Finally they led me in, and my mind started reeling with the overwhelming sensory overload. Jennifer was completely set up for the procedure with a big drape hiding her from what was happening below. Doctors and nurses were everything. The anesthesiologists and their residents/peanut gallery were chatting loudly. They made the large room feel cramped. If I had to guess, there were probably 10-15 people in the room. Of course the sensory overload I was experiencing makes it hard to remember precisely.

I sat down next to Jennifer afraid to bump into anything or anyone, fully scrubbed up in an awkward paint suit, booties, cafeteria hairnet, and face mask. She was seriously scared and nervous. There was an instant where I got really mad that they had her go through all of that without me there to provide support. That passed quickly and I held her hand.

The procedure was quick. The morning was quick. We became parents so quickly after so much waiting. My word count here is growing exponentially long, but that morning went by in an instant. They began. We could here their cheery chatter and see nothing. Jennifer's body was jostled around as they worked. Suddenly we heard a fluid filled cry. Instantly, I was overwhelmed with emotion and tears were threatening in my eyes. My mask was redirecting my warm breath into my glasses and they began to fog up.

"Dad you can stand up to see him." one of the many disembodied voices in the room cried out. I stood up, looking past the clamped barrier hiding the procedure. There was my baby son, gurggling and crying. I sat back down overwhelmed. He had a full head of hair! Or did he? Yes he did! My brain was barely functioning.

As an aside, what an aside at this point? Yes we want to hear the rest but this is an important time to note that my phone began buzzing in my pocket with someone calling me. I ignored it, but when I checked it an hour or so later, it was none other than my dad. We had been upfront about the fact that we wanted some space during the birth and would keep them up to date with what was happening. I got a good chuckle out of it later as that is so typical of him being excited and wanting to insert himself into the event. (Like the fact that he tried to book my restaurant reservations for me for my proposal date with Jennifer.) Ok, back to the good stuff.

The crying got further away as the nurses whisked him off to be cleaned. I squeezed Jennifer's hand as they began finishing up the procedure. I heard the crying off in the other room and looked over to see if I could catch another glimpse of our new son through the window. I saw a bright light and some hands working. My befuzzled mind eagerly tried to comprehend what I was seeing. It looked like they were trying to put a watermelon back together. I realized with a shock that I was a seeing a reflection of the procedure. So much for the protective drape!

Finally they came back with a huge bundle of blanket, and a little tiny head poking out wearing a cap. They unceremoniously plopped him in my arms. I've heard of the fear dads have the first time they pick up their baby that they are going to break it. I had a feeling of that, but mainly from the fact that I didn't know if my arms would be steady enough to hold him because of how overwhelmed I was.

I must admit, I've had a little jealousy over the fact that Jennifer was going to have this big bonding experience with the baby through the natural birth. We took an extremely long course on the natural birth where they constantly emphasized the bonding that the mother and child would have. Of course they completely leave out anything with the dad. So with a level of selfishness I in no way regret, I greedily took our son for his first check up. This was daddy time before the almighty boob (and the wonderful love of my life that is attached to said boob) eclipsed everything.

I pushed him in his little cart up to the nursery, staring into his little amazing face the entire time. I was still completely scrubbed up, carefully trying not to bump the cart into anything. We got up into the nursery, and the nurse got him completely naked to check him out under the warmer. This was daddy time. I got to marvel at my new son, just the two of us. I touched his hair, caressed his arms, and talked to him. I wasn't really sure what to do, but I knew that I was amazed. I'm a little chagrined to admit that I forgot about my poor wife for a minute being sewn up below while I reveled in my new-found parenthood. Of course my daddy-time was soon over, and Guy was wrapped up again for his trip back to his mommy.

Again to hit upon the fact that we wanted a little distance on the birth, unbeknownst to us, all of our parents (sans my dad who was doing grand rounds in the hospital) were waiting in the waiting room. Their timing was fortuitous to me, but bad for them as they just missed me in the nursery. My daddy time was uninterrupted.

Back in the recovery room, Jennifer was doing well. The nurses helped her get Guy up for his first breastfeeding. We had our first bit of time to sit down and enjoy the moment together with the stress of the operation behind us. After an hour or so we went to our hospital room A.K.A. the awesome suite with a great view of downtown. I quickly found out that all the grandparents were there as I headed to the car to get our hospital bags.

We ended up staying 48 hours in the hospital with tons of wonderful visitors. The grandparents were so enthusiastic the entire time. Jennifer recovered quickly from the c-section, and we finally got home to really start this parenthood thing.