All is well in Daddy Land.

We went in Wednesday expecting to have Amanda induced. She was set up in a room and monitored for a while to establish a "base line" of sorts. We enjoyed a couple hours of watching and listening to the heartbeat, and seeing her mild contractions every now and then. Once the nurse felt that all was OK, she set up the pitocin to begin the process. The medicine is supposed to stimulate the production of prostoglandin, which in turn causes the uterus to contract.

Everything was fine for about 10 minutes and then the baby's heartbeat dropped drastically. It went down to around 40 or 50 beats a minute (it should stay closer to 130 to 150 bpm). No one knew what was going on, but the nurse remained very calm (which helped both Amanda and I) and was able to return his heart rate to a normal level. The doctor came in and checked out the readings, said everything looked fine now. We tried the pitocin again, with the same results and the doctor said we basically had two choices:

1. go for a c-section right then

2. keep trying to let the contractions work, and then be rushed in to the OR for a c-section

Not a lotta choice there. We opted for the more "controlled" of the two. The surgery was scheduled, anesthesiologist was called in and the process began.

We were in the operating room by 4pm. I wanted to be in there - there was not even a question. I was given my own smurf outfit (everything blue, from the hat down to the shoes) which was the only comic relief to the whole ordeal.

By 4:24pm I was looking at my son. Happy, healthy, peeing. That was him, not me...

At one point during the procedure, I looked over at one of the doctors, who was holding something that looked like it belonged inside my wife, and said, "Hey, that's neat. What is it?"

I'm not sure why I was surprised when the reply came, "That's Amanda's uterus."

I just stood there. All I could manage to say was, "cool."

I proceeded to the recovery room with him, while Amanda was being sewn and stapled.

I was hurried across the hall and shown my new born baby boy. I couldn't see a thing because I was crying so hard. It was all so unbelievable. The miracle of birth mixed with the shock of having to go for a c-section made it difficult not to become emotional.

But there he was. Perfect. In every way. So, here's the stats everyone asks for:

Born: Wednesday July 2, 2003

Weight: 7lbs 2 oz

Length: 19 1/4 inches

Apgars: 8 and 9

And no hair. Bald as a.. as a... well, he was bald. Is bald, except for a tiny band of wispy white hair from behind one ear, around the back of his head and to the other ear. You know, old-man hair.

Amanda was wheeled in a little bit later, doing fine. Happy to be out of the OR, and happy to see her son. That's when I finally lost it. Once we were all back together there wasn't much more to worry about, and it overwhelmed me. I had totally forgotten about the 10 or so people that were in the waiting area. Amanda finally had to tell me to go let them know everything was fine and they could meet us in her room.

And so - it all ended up fine. I'm rolling on about 3 hours of sleep plus a nice little nap this afternoon, so I apologize for the lack of form and structure in this entry. There will be plenty more entries though, and hopefully I'll learn how to function on not much sleep.

He's the best thing we ever did - I just hope we deserve him.

He's perfect.

previous - next

duh - 2008-09-15

hi mac - 2006-12-12

corporate whore - 2006-11-03

new - 2006-10-05

elvis costello sings for you - 2006-09-27

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