Impatience is a virtue ... but only if you're small

Hello again blogging world, this is E. A is taking a moment and relaxing after a busy day. As is the long standing custom, I write a special blog on the day of our son's arrival into the world. Yes that's right, B has arrived and is currently doing a very good impression of a Qdoba burrito on display since he is swaddled snugly in a blanket and is currently residing behind a sneeze proof piece of plastic.

First of all, here are the important details. It was the magical time of 8:14 AM when our little man joined the air breathing population on this hot hot day of August 12. He's 7 lbs and 1 oz of large headed German/Italian offspring. He measured out at 19.5 inches and has a beautiful head of baby hair. We don't know if he's going to keep all this hair like his brother did, but hopefully he does.

Now it's time for me to relate how the events came to be. For the past couple of weeks, A had been going to the baby doctor and getting checked out on Wednesdays. I've been attending since they could say at any moment, "Get thee to the hospital!" to A. Of course I would have no choice but tag along and be useless like the last time. For further details of the "last time" see my past post exactly 15 months ago.

So we're in the Dr.'s office and A is being examined and they have good news - A has started dilating. Not much but we were told it was enough to signify that something is about to happen in about 1.5 weeks or less. Really? A's due date is in 1.5 weeks and you're telling us that something is going to happen in less than or equal to 1.5 weeks. Wow! It's like we got one of those magic cards out of Zoltar from the movie "Big." It has to be true. They can predict the future! Honestly people. We just payed money for someone to tell me that the inevitable event that has a very predictable deadline is going to happen at most by the ... deadline. Again, wow.

After this stunningly brilliant observation we wrap up the appointment and I trot off back to work so that I can get a few more hours in. A is doing great and I have nothing to worry about. She's been taking the week off because the new work policy allows her to take up to 4 weeks prior to the due date off. She went for 2 weeks prior because it made more sense to her. In her "down" time she, planted a tree, mulched the flower beds, reorganized the kitchen, reorganized a tv cabinet, got her car detailed (it was very dirty and had a few hundred cheerios rolling around in it), ran a dozen other small errands, worked out daily, trimmed the hedges, filled out a mountain of paperwork to go on baby leave, and several other things that I can't remember. She did all this in 3 days.

I get home in time to help A finish up dinner with N and put him to bed. I notice A is having some discomfort so I ask her what's wrong. She says "just cramping." I'm a dude, I don't get cramps down there, and if you read the blog from 15 months ago you will realize that A was induced when N was born so we didn't have the prior experience of knowing what these cramps meant. I'm currently guessing Braxton Hicks, but I asked if they were coming at regular intervals. A didn't know. As part of my job as baby daddy, I am supposed to be the keeper of the watch and note any patterns that might emerge from "cramps" that would indicate the inevitable event given a 1.5 week deadline might actually be occurring now. 21 minutes later we realize that these "cramps" are coming at 7 minute intervals. We start gathering our things to go, I call my mother who lives over an hour away to come watch our son while we go to the hospital. Another few minutes go by and the "cramps," or as other women of the world call them CONTRACTIONS, are still coming at about 6-7 minutes apart. Now A goes to the restroom and I hear something bone chilling. "I'm bleeding - quite a bit."

I make the executive decision to not wait for the official baby sitter to show up. Instead I grab A's phone and dial our wonderful neighbor up to come and baby sit for a few minutes. Our neighbor, S, stepped up to the plate and graciously offered to watch N so we could take off sooner. Needless to say, we were off. During the pregnancy I had but a few small jobs assigned to me: 1. keep the daily ice cream supply flowing to the pregnant woman, 2. time contractions, 3. haul booty to the hospital. I usually don't drive in a hurried fashion, but I was now. I may have run a red light or two on this journey, but they didn't have cameras on them so I guess we'll never know.

We get checked in, assigned to a room at around 9PM, and A finally gets checked out. Luckily the "quite a bit" of blood she noticed was just due to the fact that she had dilated very quickly and was now in good old fashioned, natural, non-induced labor. I'm personally relieved and glad to know both A and the baby are doing OK. A then asks for the magical cocktail known from far and wide as the epidural. We hear "no problem, you'll get one in about 30 minutes." The legal drug dealer was currently involved in another operation and had to stay there until it was over in case of any problems.

I start chatting to A about random things to help her focus on something other than her pain. We make phone calls, do some texting, and she grimaces with every contraction. A long 2 hours go by. A asks again for the epidural. Again, "30 minutes" was the response. 40 minutes later the nurse comes in and offers A a different painkiller to help her before the epidural can be administered. Whatever they gave A had a few side effects that weren't desirable. I found myself with a new job this time as official spit bucket holder. It's not as glamorous as you'd think. I would much rather be spewing inept prognosis of "you'll have your baby by your due date." 20 minutes later, A gets her epidural. She was 9 cm dilated by this time. Another cm and it would be time to stop mucking around with needles and start pushing out babies. I'm not pleased right now, but A seems to be very happy and relaxed so I just drop the subject of my wife sitting around and suffering for 3 hours.

Now, last time A pushed for over 3 hours. She made quite a name for herself among the nurses at the hospital as well she should have. If you can imagine going to the gym and performing some kind of weight lifting maneuver that strained every fiber of your being and then doing that lift every 2 minutes for 3 hours, then that's what she did. My wife is kind of a legend around here. Two nurses that were on shift 15 months ago came by to see the amazing pregnant woman again. Given the past issue of having to actively push for such a long time and since she and the baby were doing fine, A was allowed to labor down and let nature take it's course. This meant we got to catch some sleep and wake up in the morning and then get the show on the road. So I slept and A dozed for a few hours.

When it was time, to start pushing we stupidly asked "how long will this take?" "30 minutes" was again the response. It took about 40 and I was happy that I didn't have to punch the Dr. that told us 30 square in the face because we both like her. I wanted to go get my eldest son N and bring him down to see his mom and little brother B after everyone was all cleaned up, but not if they were going to be moving us from one room to the other. I wanted to stay and help A out with that. At 2PM I asked how long that would take and again was told "30 minutes." I decided to wait until after the move. 3.5 hours later we were moved and it was too late to go get my boy and bring him over because it was getting on to bed time for him.

I am currently presented with quite a paradox. I could either go find the individuals who can't give me an honest estimate of time and kick them in the pancreas or find Stephen Hawking and explain to him that at this hospital there is a non linearity in time that must be studied which would lead to tremendous advances in the understanding of the universe. Both will probably lead me to some sort of detention either in a jail cell or insane asylum.

Instead I choose to leave you now and go to sleep. But not before I post some pictures of our new lad.