On July 8, Chelsea and I stepped into what
would become our final visit to the doctor.
We had been anticipating this day for the last week, eager to find out
about any progress in the pregnancy.
After a brief check-up, Dr. Tsai (who could be described as cold)
informed us that little progress had been made since last week’s check-up. He performed a sweeping of the membrane which
had a 50/50 chance of helping Chelsea into labor naturally in the next 2-3 days. After this quick procedure an induction date was
set for July 11.
Having spent the last 40 weeks
anticipating the arrival of our child, my mind was put at ease knowing that
there was a definite end date set for our pregnancy. Chelsea was decidedly more nervous. She had spent hours reading and researching
the possible downsides to an induced birth.
Two days came and passed without even a mild contraction, and I grew
increasingly more excited as Chelsea became more nervous. Who could blame her; I certainly wasn't the
one having to pass a child through my body!
Tuesday night was relatively
uneventful, dinner at a so-so hamburger joint and a couple hours reading at the
local Barnes & Noble. We made it home later than usual and headed to sleep
for the night. I was out for only 15
minutes when Chelsea shook me awake, “I think it’s happening.” Everything was cloudy. I was incredibly
groggy and probably groaned a few unintelligible words as I came to. I looked up to see her tearing up as she
looked intently at the timer on her phone.
As I came out of the haze she told me the contractions were regular and
had been happening for 15 min off and on.
Reality set in. We’re going to
have a baby. Tonight!
I jumped into the shower to wake
up. We took turns timing the contractions
for the next two hours. I grabbed
pillows, clothes, the pregnancy exercise ball, a car seat, snacks, towels,
cameras, phone chargers… anything and everything my mind could think of. After 2 hours of regular contractions I
tossed it all into the car and we headed to the ER at the hospital. Driving in the car gave me the first chance
to really reflect on what the heck was happening. I grabbed Chelsea’s hand, smiled and said
“We’re going to have a baby.” I spent much of the ride trying to remember
everything that we covered in our birthing class. I wish I had paid a little more attention to
the odd instructor of our class who enthusiastically taught us how to properly
groan, moan, and massage. I tried hard
to hide my panic and be strong for Chelsea.
We arrived at the hospital ER around 2 in the
morning and were rushed to the triage room in the Birthing Center. Chelsea was wheeled in while I carried ALL of
our stuff. I looked like a pack mule and
was laughed at by the staff and the folks in the waiting room who all correctly
guessed that we were about to have our first child. After an uncomfortable hour of contractions
(and a few painful exams) in the triage room, the nurses were sufficiently
assured that Chelsea was indeed in labor.
We were moved to the birthing room 1007 where we would later have our
beautiful baby girl. The room was
perfect, except for one detail, there were no chairs for me to sit at Chelsea’s
bedside. I spent the remainder of the
night sitting on the exercise ball meant for my wife, helping her work through
the contractions.
I
immediately began to transform the bright sterile room 1007 into a relaxing
place for my wife. We turned off the
lights, opened up some aromatherapy lotion, cued up some Enya music and worked
on our relaxing moaning. The nurses must
have thought we were some crazy new age hippy couple. While all this might sound silly, as a man it
is hard to watch your wife suffer through wave after wave of contractions. Out of love you try to do anything and
everything you possibly can to help her through each of the increasingly
painful waves. By my estimate Chelsea
went through about 135 contractions ((60/4)*9hr), labor is by all means a
marathon… not a sprint.
At 6:30AM
our doctor broke Chelsea’s water, rapidly accelerating her labor. The final hours of contractions were a blur,
and it wasn't long until she began feeling the urge to push. The nurse paged the
doctor who rushed into the room and prepped himself to deliver our baby
girl. I stood by Chelsea’s side, unable
to do anything but hold her hand and whisper some words of encouragement. It was amazing to watch her in delivery;
everything was coming so naturally to her.
I’ll spare the gory details. I
watched on as she gave her final push, looking over at my wife, “you did it baby,
she’s beautiful!” A few tears rolled
down her face as she saw our child. I
smiled ear to ear as I turned my focus to cutting the cord. The emotions of
such a moment are immensely difficult to put into text. As a father and a husband I was proud, shocked,
relieved, excited, exhausted, and unbelievably in love with both of the
wonderful ladies that will forever be a part of my life.
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