Back with New News!

Ok, so it's been a while.  I had the impression for a while that some significant people in my life weren't thrilled with the idea of my blogging, so I went on hiatus for a while.  Yeah, a long while.  But I thought I'd give it another try for the sake of the 9 loyal followers out there.

I'm still working from home, and some things have changed, while others stay frustratingly the same.  The BIG news however is that my wife and I are now expecting child number 4!  Yes, the chaos that swirls around me on a daily basis isn't enough for me apparently so we're adding to the craziness.  Seriously, though, I love the idea of another baby in house.  The marathon of tiredness, resetting of  the nasty-diaper clock and return to washing bottles...not so much.  But more than anything, I'm psyched to welcome what will most likely be the fourth and final installment of our little clan!

One of the great things about working from home is the fact that I'm on hand for most of the BIG events, and I'm not at risk of being three states away when the "My water just broke!" phone call comes in.  Of my three boys, the first one was the only arrival that really surprised me.  The second one was scheduled to be induced, and the third occurred during a routine pregnancy visit after a morning of "Boy I'm really cramping today."  That translated in my mind to:  "Get the bags packed, here we go!"

The first one arrived after hosting Father's Day at my house, where my wife and I were completely exhausted (did I mention we had also adopted a 120lb yellow lab less than 24 hours before?).  No sooner did we turn out the light to go to bed when I heared "Um...I think my water just broke.  No...I'm SURE my water just broke."  It was AWESOME!  I know that sounds really weird, but on some primal level, the protector/provider instinct kicked in and I knew I had to take care of my wife.  It was exactly how I had pictured the announcement and trip to the doctor for the birth would be.  We finished packing (I'd just come back from a 2-week stint away from home for work 2 days previously) made some phone calls and headed to the hospital.  I felt like a rookie called up to the big leagues.  I was primed and ready and pumped to get started.  I had the lamaze lessons in my head, I had the suitcase ready (the "Daddy-to-be" equivalent of Batman's utility belt) for any occasion.  I was ready to be there for my wife and meet my son!

Fast forward through 7 exhausting hours of narcotic injections, epidurals by a B*tchy Anesthesiologist with no bedside manner, and a lot of contractions, and it was time.  That's when it all started falling apart.  My wife's blood pressure dropped and they put her on oxygen.  The baby was flipped upside down, not breach, but not 'sunny-side-up' to help get through the birth canal.  The umbilical chord was wrapped around the baby's neck 3 times, so the baby's heart rate dropped whenever we pushed.  I felt completely helpless.  I'm scared for my wife, who is going through hell.  I'm scared for my son, who's fighting just to come into the world, and I can do NOTHING.  Every possible scenario runs through your head during those times, none of them good, and all the while you have to focus on staying calm and strong so your wife has her rock through all the turmoil.

The nurses and doctor were fantastic.  The baby flipped.  The cord was unwound.  The final push and I was blessed with my first son.  I was torn between being by my wife's side, helpless, while the doctors gave her the post-birth care, and being by my son's warming cart, also feeling helpless but at least able to let his tiny fist clutch my pinky and whisper to him "Daddy's here...we're going to go see Mommy really soon."

I'm not saying I want to repeat the whole series of events.  I know my wife in particular would like to start the epidural 12 hours before the labor begins, preferably with some laughing gas and come out of it 3 weeks later after the pushing is done and she'd had time to sleep and heal.  But looking back, it was 12 hours of intense "Daddy" training.  A lifetime of lessons in a brief span.  As I've said, I've been present for the birth of each of my sons, and the miracle never diminishes.  I probably cried more with each successive birth for the joy of the occasion, and have savored the experience more, but I will never forget the birth of my first, which in retrospect has taught me more than I would have ever expected.