I had never felt as lost in my life as I did the week leading up to my son’s birth. Multiple times throughout the week I would forget what day it was or what time in the day it was. I had a father once tell me having a newborn was like a form of torture due to the sleep deprivation. When he first told me that I wondered to myself how hard could it be. Sure the baby would be waking up every few hours to be fed or changed, but how could it feel like torture? I found out quickly what he meant.
With my wife having to endure a c-section in order to deliver our baby boy, we enjoyed a couple of extra nights in the hospital. We had gone in on Saturday June 1st for a planned induction and had to arrive at 4:30 am for our appointment. Getting there without hitting heavy traffic here in Chicago was great, but having to wake up that early to start the day was not.
We arrived bright and early only to have to wait in the uncomfortable waiting room until almost 7 am. This did not put me at ease with how the day would go nor was my wife at all comfortable. Once we were taken back to a delivery room my wife was hooked up to an iv and the petocin was administered. I will shorten this part of the story due to time seeing how my wife had to endure almost 24 hours of labor and push for the final 3 before the doctor decided our son was not moving any closer to being born and we would be heading to the OR for a c-section. Both my wife and I broke down and cried. Partly out of fear but mostly due to exhaustion.
What’s crazy to think about now is how quickly he was pulled out once we were in the OR. After my wife had been prepped and I dressed in a full clean suit we sat in the OR and listened to the doctors dissecting my wife. I sat next to her head with a screen dividing my wife’s head and me from the rest of her body. I caressed her forehead and cheek to try and calm us both down while waiting for our son.
Eight minutes after the first incision he was being lifted above the curtain for us to see and rushed off to be cleaned. In those first few moments things happened so quickly we didn’t know what was going on. All I can remember is seeing a large slimy creature being raised for me to see and them hollering what a large baby girl. (Yes, when they first pulled my son out they called him a girl). This scared my wife into a frenzy and she began almost yelling “What do they mean girl?” I tried to console her and let her know they only misspoke but it took until one of the nurses yelled from off to the side that it was a beautiful baby boy a couple times before my wife calmed down.
10 lbs. 3oz. was his unofficial weight when they were cleaning him up. He was chunky and cute. When they brought him over for my wife to see we both had tears streaming down our face. Relief set in and the stressful past 24 hours were finally catching up. I fed him his first bottle sitting next to my wife as they sewed her back up. The big guy drank the whole thing to the amazement of all the nurses and doctors. They laughed at how much he was eating already. I was nervous we had an eater on our hands and would be paying for it later. (Luckily he has actually slimmed down and is really just tall and with a big head).
This is the short of it; the birth story of my son and how he has made our lives so much more enjoyable even though he made it rough getting here. It hasn’t been hard, but it hasn’t been easy. Sure this makes me sound naive, but going in I didn’t want to have preconceived ideas of how to raise a child. I wanted to learn as I went so I could enjoy the moments when we both learned something new. The bad thing is I think he’s catching on quicker then I am.