Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Daddy has a breakdown...


This was a post I wrote months ago. I put off posting it and obviously I never got around to it...until now. I have neglected the blog, mostly because I feel that it is funner to spend time with my baby than it is to write about her. I'm also writing a lot for school, so it makes it harder to want to write for fun. Having said all of that, I will try to blog more. And as atonement for my blogging sins, here is a picture of Anaya who is not a little over 6 months old.
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As human beings we all experience the highs and lows of living on this life. We all understand what it means to feel elation and devastation. Everyone of us has been through an experience that has taken us to one extreme or the other. The intro to an  TV show from the 70's, ABC's Wide World of Sports, says it best, "...the thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat..."

On July 24th, 2012, I experienced something that left me feeling like I had climbed the tallest mountain only to stumble on the way down. The birth of my daughter was an experience that I will never forget and I will never be truly ably to describe what that day means to me. 

If you are a regular reader of this blog, then you have been a passenger on this roller-coaster ride with us. We got into the ride over nine months ago, and we began a slow, steady ascent to the very top only to fly down the other side in a matter of moments.

Anaya was born at 7:52 in the afternoon. This was after my wife had been in labor since the early morning hours. I had been there for just about every minute of every hour, and I was there to bring our baby into the world. We were in a whirlwind during the first few hours of her life. Doctors, nurses, friends, and family went in and out of the room. She was cleaned, poked and prodded as we all marveled at the miracle of life. We ate for what felt like the first time in days.

Both of us were beyond tired; we had crossed that threshold hours ago. Suddenly, we found ourselves alone in the delivery room, my wife, the baby, a nurse, and me. The nurse was a helping us get ready to make the pilgrimage from the delivery room to the room we would be staying in for a few days. She had to make sure that my wife was ready to walk and that the baby was ready for the change.One of the things we had to do was give the baby a bath.

While the nurse was occupied with my wife I went over to the baby. She was starting to get fussy, probably because she hadn't learned how to eat yet. I'm sure she was feeling a little peckish. I walked over to where she was and I tried talking to her to comfort her. Earlier, I had been able to get her calm simply by talking to her. People had started calling me the "Baby Whisperer." Well, that didn't happen this time. 

She wasn't having it. Anaya was tired, hungry, and probably still wondering where she was. I tried touching her and getting close to her. That didn't work. I tried picking her up. I was still hadn't mastered this skill, so she didn't appreciate my effort. What did she do? The only thing that she knew how to do. She started to cry harder. My wife and the nurse were not in the immediate vicinity at the moment, but they might as well have been a thousand miles away. 

I felt so helpless as my daughter lay there crying. Her cry was so pitiful, and the sound broke my heart. I had been on cloud nine just minutes before, but now I was faced with the reality of being a parent and it became very real very quickly. 

After what felt like hours, the nurse came back and took her from me. It was time for her first bath, and she wanted me there front and center. I couldn't. I was reeling from the emotional storm I had been through and I needed a moment.I couldn't even say anything to explain to her that I needed a break. 

I sat down on the couch, and I let myself break down. It wasn't anything overly dramatic, but it was real. She was still crying which drove the feeling deeper into my being. I felt like I had failed as a father. Now I look back and I know that I was just having an emotional release after a long, draining day, but in that moment I felt like I wasn't fit for the task. I couldn't even comfort my baby girl. It was a horrible feeling.

The nurse started to give her a bath which seemed to calm the baby. I collected myself and I went over to them. I watched and listened as she washed my baby girl. I was comforted by the way she handled her. I didn't say or do much as we finished washing her and walked to the other room. 

That night was one of the longest nights of our lives. I wont go into the details, because I frankly don't remember them. If I were to briefly describe that night I would say it was sleepless. The baby still wasn't eating so she also wasn't sleeping much. That meant that we didn't sleep much either. I had a really hard time because any sound disturbed any rest that I could get. The sounds of the hospital kept me awake for hours and hours. 

I had gotten over my mini-breakdown, and I had a revelation which gave some peace. In the midst of the fog of emotions and fatigue I came to understand and accept the fact that I won't always be able to comfort my child. I hated the idea, but I had to let it sink into my mind, and as I was coming to terms with things I had a moment with my baby girl that gave me yet another revelation. 

My wife was completely exhausted. I cannot begin to imagine how tired and worn out she must have felt. The fact that Anaya was having a hard time latching just made things worse. After another failed feeding attempt I decided to give her a break and take the baby. It was well past midnight at this point and it was just the two of us. We had decided to keep the baby with us throughout the night and we were paying the price. 

I took the baby and I laid her on my chest. And she slept. 

The feeling that came over me washed away any other feeling I had ever felt before in my life. It was a mixture of peace, satisfaction, pride, happiness and so many other indescribable things.  There are no words to fully express what that moment meant. Life made sense at that moment. Every moment in my life had led to this, and I felt like I was ready to face the challenge. 

Anaya was born, and in a way so was I. I became a grown up in those dramatic hours. 



Thursday, August 30, 2012

Birth Story: Part II

So, I forgot the birth plan.

For a moment I felt like we were on a long road trip and I forgot the map. I knew it was on the computer, so I thought that we could just refer to the diminutive screen whenever we needed to know something from the plan. The nurse quickly dismissed that idea and she reassured us that we would be fine without it.

Before the birth, I had a mental image of what the day was supposed to be. I think it's something we all do right before a major event in our lives. I can't remember exactly what I thought it was going to be like because that image has been replaced by what actually happened. It was a lot calmer than I thought it was going to me. I was a lot calmer than I thought I was going to be. It helped that I had my mom there to talk to throughout the day. We quickly settled into a routine: talk for a few minutes, go help my wife during a contraction, go back and continue the conversation.

The labor lasted over sixteen hours, and only two of those hours were actual hard labor. The mood and the room was light, almost festive, but it did't start out that way.

During the first few hours my wife was in a considerable amount of pain. The contractions were taking a lot out of here and there was not much we could do for a while. They were close together, but she was not advancing as quickly as we would have liked. Because the pain medication can slow down the process, the nurses were hesitant to give her anything for the pain. The anesthesiologist wasn't in yet, so that delayed things as well.

After a few hours they finally relented and let her have some drugs through an IV. The effect of the medication was evident right away as her contractions became much less painful and she was able to get some rest. A few minutes later the anesthesiologist came in and gave her the epidural, which she apparently didn't even feel. I excused myself from the room during this procedure.

Once she had the epidural, things really slowed down. She fell asleep for a while, and I got a chance to leave the room and have lunch with my parents. At this point she wasn't even feeling the contractions; the only way she knew she was having them was by looking at a monitor that was being used to measuring and timing them.

I wish I had something dramatic to share like an argument with a nurse or family member, but the truth is that things were surprisingly calm and quiet. I was surprisingly calm. There was nothing to do but wait. So that is what we did. Every  few hours the nurses would check her progress, and things were just not happening very quickly at all. They decided to give her more meds to speed things up, but that wasn't much help either; Anaya was going to come when she was good and ready.

The only thing out of the ordinary was the hospital helicopter bringing in a patient. Our window had an amazing view which included front row seats to the helicopter pad. When we heard that they were bringing in a patient we crowded around the window and we watched as the helicopter landed and they brought the patient into the hospital. I guess it's something you don't see everyday.

At around 6 in the afternoon, my wife noticed that she was beginning to feel the contractions more. They brought the medicine man (I'm tired of typing anesthesiologist) to do his thing and he suggested that they check her progress again. I got the impression that this particular nurse didn't like suggestions, but thankfully she relented.

I won't go into detail, but let's just say that she went from being about halfway ready to very ready from one check to another. After the final check, there was a rush of activity as the staff prepared to deliver our baby. Our doctor came in and they went through their pre-delivery routine. They have delivery kits and they sterilize and account for every tool and every piece of gauze that they use. Some say that they do that to make sure nothing gets left inside a patient during a procedure. I know that they do it to make sure they bill you for everything.

During this flurry of activity we told our doctor that I wanted to "catch" the baby. I was expecting some eye-rolling or something like that, but she was all business. "If that's what you want then let's get you scrubbed and into a gown."

I almost high-fived her when she told me I would get to wear a gown; I felt so official. I almost insisted that they refer to me as doctor, but I quickly realized that it could have legal ramifications, so I resisted the urge. Also, high-fiving a doctor is not proper protocol after they have prepared for a procedure. I scrubbed in and I got into my gown, gloves, and shoe protector things. We were not messing around. I had her tell me exactly what to do, and I basically made her swear that she was going to be right next to me the entire time.  

That is when she told me that if she had a choice between having me fall (passing out), or dropping the baby, she was going to let me go down. I wholeheartedly agreed with her wise medical decision.

While all of this is happening, my wife is in middle of hard labor. This was the most intense part of the day. There is so much going on, and so many people saying so many things that it is hard to take it all in. I came away with the feeling that there is nothing that can even compare to the birth of a child. It is so hard to describe.

We were watching our daughter be born. The days, weeks, and months of anticipation were coming to a dramatic close. She was right there. We could see her. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. I wanted to sit, and I wanted to run.

Then it was time for her to come.

It happened so fast.

I stood where I was supposed to stand. Her head came out, and I put my hands around it like the doctor told me to. I was so afraid, and yet I knew that I was doing something important. For those few fleeting moments everything went away and it was just the three of us. People were talking, moving, walking around the room, but I focused on bringing our baby into the world. I felt the doctor's hands around mine, guiding me and telling me what to do. I was so afraid to hurt the baby, but I had to push those feelings aside.

I had her in my hands for the first time. Delivering her was not what I expected. It goes beyond simply "catching" the baby on the way out. You have to guide the body as it comes through the birth canal. I had to fight my instinct to protect the baby from any form of discomfort. I couldn't think about blood, or anything like that. The doctor knew that I there was a possibility that I would pass out at the sight of blood, and she checked on me regularly. I was fine.

With the doctor's help I brought Anaya out to meet her mother and the rest of the world. Again, it happened so fast. Her head was in my hands, then I held on to her neck and bottom, and then I rested her on my wife's chest. It was so simple, yet so complicated at the same time.

My wife cried, our baby cried, the world rushed around us. Anaya cried like her life depended on it. Her cry went through my ears right to my heart.

She was on my wife, crying her little head off. I made my way to their side and I got close to her face, and I spoke to her like I had done while she was in the womb, "Hi Anaya, it's daddy."

For just a second her crying slowed down, and we had another indescribable moment. She knew my voice and it was like she was saying, "Hi Daddy, I'm here."

 I knew that loved her more than anything from the instant we knew she was coming, but in that fleeting moment I was hooked forever. She was mine and I was hers. There is no other way to say it.



Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Birth Story: Part 1

Note: I've been working on this post for several days weeks now. The time I dedicate to this blog is now dictated by a newborn, so you do the math.


Part 1: Daddy Forgot the Birth Plan

The story begins on the night of the 23rd. We had just gotten back from having dinner, and we were watching some T.V. before going to bed. My wife had been having "false" labor pains for several weeks and that night was no exception. For some reason that night she mentioned feeling something different. At this point we were already four days overdue, so I was ready for anything. She had a doctor's appointment scheduled for the 24th and we were ready to hear what the doctor was willing to do to speed up the process. 

There was no need for that.

At around 4:30, I was woken up by my wife who was having a rather intense contraction. I was used to being woken up by my wife in the middle of the night, but this particular contraction felt different to her. It was long, painful, and different. I held her hand while it passed and I tried to go back to sleep only to be interrupted by another painful contraction. She was having them closer together, and that was when we knew it was time to go. 

We got up and we started to get ready to go to the hospital. Our bags were packed and supposedly ready to go, but we still had to do several laps around the house making sure we had everything. My wife called her doctor who told her to come to the hospital sooner rather than later. While she got ready to go, I threw everything in the car.

In the midst of the rush, we realized that we didn't have our birth plan printed out. I ran to the printer, unpacked the computer, and I printed out a copy which I then set on the kitchen table. That was followed by more running around the house while we called people to let them know that it was time. I was running up and down the stairs making sure I had the camera, batteries and chargers for everything. 

We somehow get everything into the car and we were on our way. By now it was a little after 5 in the morning. I was glad that there wasn't too much traffic. The contractions were coming closer together and they were becoming more painful. I tried my best to focus on getting to the hospital. The advantage of having to go to the hospital this early is the simple fact that there is no traffic. It was me and the open road. Oh, and my wife going into labor.

I didn't have a pre-planned route, but there are only two ways to get to the hospital of our choice. My chosen route had less stoplights and a four-lane highway. It is usually well patrolled by law enforcement, but I was well prepared to make my case for a police escort to the hospital.

We had no run-ins with the law, but our travels were hindered by a train. It wasn't a short train either. There was no way around the locomotive, so we had to wait patiently and watch it flow endlessly past us. I will always question the need to have railroad tracks crossing busy streets in any city.

My wife and I made it to the hospital and it was a rush to decide what we needed with us in the room, and what we could leave in the car, and where to park, and where to go first. We walked into the admitting area and walked up to the counter. My wife had pre-registered so we expected to be admitted instantly. We highly recommend this to anyone having a hospital birth; it can save you a lot of time and effort. The nice gentleman asks for my wife's name and then he says, "Why don't you have a seat. Mary (fake name) will be with you shortly."

We both thought the same thing. Seriously?

"Mary" took one look at my wife and asked her if she was in labor. My wife didn't really have to answer because you could see it in her face. At that moment "Mary" magically found her registration, so she hurried us down the hall to the elevator;you can't hurry a pregnant lady in labor.

The early morning hour helped in this instance as well because there was not a whole lot of hospital traffic. We got up to the maternity ward and there was another mad rush while, they helped my wife get ready, asked a bunch of questions, and I quickly made note of all the places I could pass out sit down if I needed to.

For the uninitiated: Hollywood has it all wrong. Labor is nothing like it is in T.V. and in movies. Sometimes I think that no one in Hollywood has actually given birth before, but then I think that they have to make it seem dramatic for the sake of drama. My wife never once yelled at me or blamed me for anything. The whole day was really calm and quiet.

That is not to say that my wife was not in pain, because she was. Every contraction was more painful than the last, and there was little rest between them. In our birth plan, she had stated that she did want pain medication during labor. While we were still getting settled in the room, the nurse looked at us and asked us for said birth plan. I dutifully ran to my bag, dug around the bag and quickly realized that the birth plan was not actually in the bag. Panic! How could I have forgotten such an important part of the process? How could I be so careless? How would we know how we wanted our baby to be born?

These and other questions will be answered in Part II: Daddy Forgot the Phone Charger

P.S. Anaya is now four weeks old and growing everyday.


Sunday, July 29, 2012

Prelude: Anaya is here

Finally.

After nine long months of waiting for our baby girl, she decided to make her appearance on July 24th, 2012 at 7:52 pm. She weighed 7 pounds 1 ounce, and she was 20 inches long. She is also amazingly beautiful. Today I wanted to get some work done around the house, but I couldn't tear myself away from her. I love to just sit and watch her sleep. As I write this she is in her bassinet next to my desk, and every few seconds I take a peek at her.

All of the cliches about having a baby are completely true. It is an event that changes everything about who you are and how you do things. I suppose marriage can have a similar effect, but parenting changes you in a different way. You have the realization that this little person depends on you for every aspect of their existence and it changes how you see the world around you.

As young parents we are faced with new challenges everyday; there is still so much that we have to learn. I am certain about one thing, and that is that I'm completely convinced that I made the right choice when I decided I wanted my wife to be the mother of my children. She is the absolute perfect mom to Anaya, and even though she is our first baby my wife carries herself with the confidence of an experienced mother. I knew that she would be this way, but seeing it play out made me respect her in a new way.

I also gained a new respect for mothers and what they go through to bring their children into the world. The process of childbirth is often romanticized, but the reality is that it is a truly painful process. There is beauty in the moment, but there is also a struggle that would make the strongest man wish for his own death. I know that I would never be able to do anything like it.

I decided to write our birth story in a series, and that this post would serve as an introduction/prologue. If you are a regular reader you know that our due date was July 20th. That was Friday. Needless to say, we were getting more and more restless by the hour.

Monday was no exception. That evening we went out to dinner with my wife's mom. The discussion between my wife and mother in law quickly turned to the signs of labor and labor itself. I'm sure the people around us were captivated by the conversation. I just concentrated on the T.V. in the restaurant and decided not to participate in the conversation.

My wife and I went home and we sat on the couch for a few minutes before going to bed. I don't remember much about what we talked about, only that there was an anticipation in the air...

Anaya is beginning to stir from her slumber, so I will end this post here. Stay tuned for Part 1.

Oh, and I know you are dying to see her, so here she is... Yes, that is her real hair.

One of my favorites

Look at those eyes..

Happy family
These were taken the day after her birth by my talented cousin. One thing is for sure, this baby will grow up surrounded by people who love and adore her.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

The Definitions of Irony

The dictionary has a definition for irony, but I won't bother telling you what it is. The truth is, the definitions confused me more than anything. It seems that the only way to explain irony is to illustrate it or point it out as it is happening.

Irony is happening to us.

Shortly after we announced our pregnancy, my wife's BFF told us that she too was pregnant. We were really happy for them, and my wife and her friend were excited about being pregnant at the same time. Her due date was a couple of weeks after ours, so all of her milestones were always a week or two behind ours. At our five month mark, we found out that we were having a girl, and shortly thereafter they told us that they were having a girl too. It became a joke, and we told them to stop copying us.


The pregnancies were very different, as pregnancies tend to be, and the way things were going it seemed that my wife would deliver our girl sooner. She was carrying her lower, and she was having more contractions. I think you know where I'm headed with this. 


My wife's friend gave birth to a beautiful baby girl last week several weeks before her due date and several days before our due date. She had an easy and quick delivery after not expecting much to happen. The doctor was even caught a little off guard. We couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the situation. 


Currently, we are three days passed our due date, and it sometimes feels like there is no end in sight. We know that there is, but when you anticipate something like this the wait feels endless. Holding our friends baby was like getting a small sample of the future. 


My complaining about waiting may feel never-ending, but it too will come to an end. In my heart I know that in the near future I will crave these moments of tranquility, so I'm doing my best to enjoy them. 
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Fast forward a few hours. My wife went into labor earlier today at about 4:45. Things are progressing, and we will hopefully be meeting our daughter soon. Stay tuned for the labor story.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Pregnancy: Predictably Unpredictable

I don't know what to write about.

I shouldn't say it like that. I don't know what to write about because the star of the show is being quiet and not giving daddy any material. I have many things on my mind, but putting them down on paper has been hard.

I was reading the online version of our local paper earlier today when a headline caught my eye. I didn't read the article, but the phrase caught my eye because the exact thought has been rolling around in my head. The headline read: "Lull Before the Storm." It's a cliche and I know it, but it it is so relevant to our situation. As we took our daily walk around the block I looked up at the sky and I saw some clouds in a sky that had been clear only hours before. Life is like the weather: it is predictable in its unpredictability. 


I can't help but feel conflicted in my thoughts and emotions at the moment. One part of me is ready to go at a moment's notice; I know where the bags are, I know where the hospital is, and I know what I have to do when I get there. This side of me is excited and completely prepared for what is coming. This is the part of me that is trying to enjoy the final fleeting moments of peace. 

The other part of me is restless, anxious and impatient. Sometimes (very rarely) it can be hard to be the un-pregnant one in the relationship. I only have a second hand sense of what is going on. If my wife doesn't tell me anything, I am in the dark. As a result, I'm over-analyzing every breath she takes. If she looks uncomfortable for just a second I have to know exactly what is going on. Most of the time I just wait for her to tell me, otherwise I would drive her insane by asking her all the time. This is also the side of me that expects to pass out in the hospital.

If we look at the calendar Anaya still has a couple of days left. If you ask us, she is very late. Every second feels like an eternity as we wait for her to make an entrance. All we can do is take another lap around the block and wait for her to make up her mind.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Impatiently Patient.

We have a crib, a car seat, tons of baby clothes, diapers, and no baby.

My wife and I are becoming impatient to say the least, and I really don't know why. The "official" countdown app on my phone says there are still nine days left, but for some reason it feels like she should already be here. We started off with nothing, and now that we have everything it  feels so useless because we are still missing the most important part. Like a Thanksgiving meal with all the trimmings, but no turkey. 

Several appointments ago the doctor said to us that she could come early, and  that has stuck in our minds like a bad song. We know that the doctor is just making an educated guess, but to us her words become truth. It's our inexperience combined with our desire to meet our little girl. We heard what we wanted to hear, and now we cannot un-hear it. 

The hospital bags are packed and ready to go at a moments notice. Even the smallest  contraction makes us wonder, "Is this the one?" So far, it hasn't been the one, and that just adds to our impatience. In our minds, the timer starts only to stop moments later.

I know that we don't really have a reason to be impatient. Her due date is still days away, and she could even be born after her due date. If anything, we should be treasuring these last days of peace and tranquility.

Then again, we do have a reason to be impatient. We are impatient to see what she looks like, to hear what she sounds like, to smell what she smells like, and to feel what she feels like. We are impatient to hold her and to touch her. We are impatient to show her to our friends and family. We are impatient to post pictures online and have the everyone say how beautiful she is. 

Thankfully, life has a way of keeping is grounded. Our family, jobs, and other responsibilities are still keeping us busy. Those are the things that occupy our minds and our time. Without them we probably would have gone crazy by now, which is still a possibility. It is easier to type this than is is to accept it, but we know that she will come when she is ready. Hopefully she will be ready sooner rather than later. 
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Once again I would like to mention my friends Jason and Naomi Rice and their adoption. They are raising money until the 15th, and they could use your help. If you can't donate help them spread the word. You can do so by visiting their blog here and you can read their entire story here.