The Longest, Happiest Day of My Life
I recently started watching 24. My Dad has all the seasons on DVD. He's a huge fan. I really like it, too, and I'm part way through season 3. But one thing I'll always remember is the way the episodes started in season one: "I'm federal agent Jack Bauer, and this is the longest day of my life." I won't ruin the ending for you, but it's definitely bittersweet... probably more bitter than sweet.
Well, the longest day of my life so far was yesterday. It, too, was bittersweet... but definitely more sweet than bitter.
We arrived at the hospital about 5:10am after a restless night in a local motel. We settled into a delivery room, and they started inducing labor around 6:45. She started having regular contractions, and they started the epidural at 7:45. They broke her water at 8:00, and we were off to the races. So far so good. No pain. She was doing great.
Things seemed to be progressing just fine. There was only one little hang-up, something that the doctor and nurses were uneasy about. Every time she had a contraction, the baby's heart rate would drop. She'd started out on her back, so they moved her to her side and put her on oxygen. Then, the heart monitor wasn't picking up correctly, so they used a different kind. Then, the baby's heart rate looked good for a while, until it started dropping again, so they turned her over on her other side. The whole time, she's doing great. No pain. Everything on my wife's end was great. Like I said, she was progressing just fine. It was just one of those things you think you've fixed, and then five minutes later, you find out it's not fixed.
Fast-forward a little bit. It's noon. Monitor keeps skipping, just not picking up right. So, the doctor comes in to switch monitors yet again. As he's doing it, she mentions that her right leg is really numb and she can't even move it. He tells her the meds from the epidural are pooling in her right side and that she needs to lay on her left side. We had been monitoring the heart rate ourselves for the last 45 minutes are so, and we really thought the issue had been resolved. Well, it wasn't. After they put her on her left side, every time she had a contraction, the baby's heart rate would drop AFTER the contraction... and stay down in the 90s... for over a minute. At that point, I took it upon myself to turn the computer screen away from my wife, who didn't need the extra stress of watching the heart rate herself.
The doctor probably wasn't gone for 10 minutes when he came back. I guess it was about 12:15. He said, in so many words, that if she were already pushing, we'd go ahead and have the baby that way, but since she was still a long way from pushing, we needed to have a C-section. It would just be too much stress on the baby to keep doing what we were doing.
That's where the "bitter" part is for us. My wife really didn't want to have a C-section. But with so much stress on the baby, it was the obvious choice.
Well, I just asked the doctor, "Doc, how long before y'all do the section?" He told me it'd be about 45 minutes. So, I said, "I'm starving, and I've got to get a bite of something to eat." He said, "Well, just hurry." And I told my wife, "Don't you let them wheel you out of here unless I'm back in the room with you. Fight 'em, if you have to." So, I hustle down to the hospital cafeteria, get one chicken breast fillet and a piece of cornbread, take one bite of the chicken, and my phone rings. It's my sister-in-law telling me I needed to get back upstairs. They had gotten there right after they told us we need to have a section. In fact, I had passed them on the way to the cafeteria. Anyway, I put the whole piece of chicken in my mouth and took off, leaving my Dad holding my plate. He understood.
I got back in what I thought was just the nick of time, only to play the waiting game for 15 more minutes. They took my wife as soon as I got back, and they ushered me into the recovery room to get robed up.
In the meantime, my wife had about 8 different people doing things to prep her for the C-section. She was definitely experiencing information overload. She was having to sign stuff left and right. It wasn't an "emergency" situation, at least that's not the impression they gave us initially, but it sure felt like an emergency, the way they were rushing everything. All the while, she's still having contractions and is still on oxygen. They told her they were going to start the incision, but if she could feel it, they would have to put her under general anesthesia. If they had to use general anesthesia, I wouldn't be able to come in. And the whole time, I'm totally in the dark; don't have a clue what's going on.
Here's the deal, when they said I had 45 minutes, they meant 45 minutes until I'd be holding my baby. I thought they meant 45 minutes until they started the procedure. You can see where I got confused, I hope. Now, the truth is, it was more like 30 minutes before I was holding my baby, but that's getting the cart before the horse.
This whole time, I'm a total wreck. I'm mad, because I think they're not going to let me be in there with my wife. I'm extra mad, because nobody's telling me anything. Until finally, a nurse walks into where I am and tells me I can come in now. I walk into a room, and it looks like a scene from a movie or something. The doctor looks up, scalpel in hand, smiles, and says, "Oh, there you are." They put me behind the curtain with my wife's head and arms (looked like she was being crucified on a table). She's got the shakes so bad it looks like she's having detox withrawals. Actually, it was the meds from the epidural. I don't really remember much except that I was VERY supportive and VERY encouraging. Just had to throw that in there.
I'm up there with my wife's head, and she says, "Ow, it feels like somebody's standing on my chest." I say, "Well, the doctor's not that big; he may be!" Also about that time, about 3/4 of the way into the procedure, the anesthesiologist says, "Would you like to have something for those shakes?" My wife just about came off the table when he said that, like, "Why didn't you ask me that 15 minutes ago?" And it's never a good thing when you look around and see your anesthesiologist messing with his iPhone while you're having surgery!
About that time, we heard someone say, "Oh, there's the head." Someone else said, "That's alot of hair." Then, a minute later, we heard something like a suction cup. I actually didn't hear it, but my wife did. Later, we found out they had to use a vacuum to get the baby out. I'm not sure if it was an Oreck or a Bissel. A minute later we heard a short cry, then silence for what seemed like an eternity. Actually, it was only about 3 seconds, but it seemed like forever. Then, the baby started really crying.
They brought the baby around the curtain for us to see, but at this point, they'd not said whether it was a boy baby or a girl baby. We were praying hard that it was a girl baby... because that's what it was supposed to be, and the whole nursery is pink! And sure enough, it was a girl baby. We both breathed a sigh of relief. And the anesthesiologist was polite enough to lay down his iPhone and take a picture of the three of us.
They let me take lots of pictures in the OR. She weighed 8lbs 2oz, and was 21 inches long. My dad's cousin said it was the first time in history that a baby was taller than it's father.
I asked my wife if she wanted me to stay with her or go with the baby to the nursery. She wanted me to go with the baby, so I did, while they stitched her up, which took a REALLY... LONG... TIME.
The details are fuzzy, but I remember getting to hold my little girl and carry her down the hall to the waiting room to meet my parents, my wife's parents, my wife's sister, and our next door neighbors, who were awfully sweet to drive up to see us.
I just kind of hung out in the nursery for the next 45 minutes or so, while they finished working on my wife. She FINALLY made it to the recovery room, but it was still about another 30 minutes before my wife got to see the baby again. My wife stayed in recovery for about 2 hours total. She was in terrible pain and was terribly thirsty. I, of course, came to her rescue by bringing her diet coke and water. With the pain, though, I wasn't so helpful.
Fast forward again. It's about 4:00pm. We got settled into a postpartum room, and that's where we've been ever since, for over 30 hours. Our baby is healthy and beautiful. She's got a head full of brown hair with blond highlights. She's perfect, and that's really all I can say. She is perfect.
God has blessed us so tremendously. My wife and I shared our first good cry a few hours ago, just looking at our baby girl and thinking about how blessed we are. We came into the hospital expecting a very long day of labor, but by 1:00pm we had our little girl. My wife and I are looking forward to watching her and helping her grow up into a smart, beautiful, godly woman.
Well, the longest day of my life so far was yesterday. It, too, was bittersweet... but definitely more sweet than bitter.
We arrived at the hospital about 5:10am after a restless night in a local motel. We settled into a delivery room, and they started inducing labor around 6:45. She started having regular contractions, and they started the epidural at 7:45. They broke her water at 8:00, and we were off to the races. So far so good. No pain. She was doing great.
Things seemed to be progressing just fine. There was only one little hang-up, something that the doctor and nurses were uneasy about. Every time she had a contraction, the baby's heart rate would drop. She'd started out on her back, so they moved her to her side and put her on oxygen. Then, the heart monitor wasn't picking up correctly, so they used a different kind. Then, the baby's heart rate looked good for a while, until it started dropping again, so they turned her over on her other side. The whole time, she's doing great. No pain. Everything on my wife's end was great. Like I said, she was progressing just fine. It was just one of those things you think you've fixed, and then five minutes later, you find out it's not fixed.
Fast-forward a little bit. It's noon. Monitor keeps skipping, just not picking up right. So, the doctor comes in to switch monitors yet again. As he's doing it, she mentions that her right leg is really numb and she can't even move it. He tells her the meds from the epidural are pooling in her right side and that she needs to lay on her left side. We had been monitoring the heart rate ourselves for the last 45 minutes are so, and we really thought the issue had been resolved. Well, it wasn't. After they put her on her left side, every time she had a contraction, the baby's heart rate would drop AFTER the contraction... and stay down in the 90s... for over a minute. At that point, I took it upon myself to turn the computer screen away from my wife, who didn't need the extra stress of watching the heart rate herself.
The doctor probably wasn't gone for 10 minutes when he came back. I guess it was about 12:15. He said, in so many words, that if she were already pushing, we'd go ahead and have the baby that way, but since she was still a long way from pushing, we needed to have a C-section. It would just be too much stress on the baby to keep doing what we were doing.
That's where the "bitter" part is for us. My wife really didn't want to have a C-section. But with so much stress on the baby, it was the obvious choice.
Well, I just asked the doctor, "Doc, how long before y'all do the section?" He told me it'd be about 45 minutes. So, I said, "I'm starving, and I've got to get a bite of something to eat." He said, "Well, just hurry." And I told my wife, "Don't you let them wheel you out of here unless I'm back in the room with you. Fight 'em, if you have to." So, I hustle down to the hospital cafeteria, get one chicken breast fillet and a piece of cornbread, take one bite of the chicken, and my phone rings. It's my sister-in-law telling me I needed to get back upstairs. They had gotten there right after they told us we need to have a section. In fact, I had passed them on the way to the cafeteria. Anyway, I put the whole piece of chicken in my mouth and took off, leaving my Dad holding my plate. He understood.
I got back in what I thought was just the nick of time, only to play the waiting game for 15 more minutes. They took my wife as soon as I got back, and they ushered me into the recovery room to get robed up.
In the meantime, my wife had about 8 different people doing things to prep her for the C-section. She was definitely experiencing information overload. She was having to sign stuff left and right. It wasn't an "emergency" situation, at least that's not the impression they gave us initially, but it sure felt like an emergency, the way they were rushing everything. All the while, she's still having contractions and is still on oxygen. They told her they were going to start the incision, but if she could feel it, they would have to put her under general anesthesia. If they had to use general anesthesia, I wouldn't be able to come in. And the whole time, I'm totally in the dark; don't have a clue what's going on.
Here's the deal, when they said I had 45 minutes, they meant 45 minutes until I'd be holding my baby. I thought they meant 45 minutes until they started the procedure. You can see where I got confused, I hope. Now, the truth is, it was more like 30 minutes before I was holding my baby, but that's getting the cart before the horse.
This whole time, I'm a total wreck. I'm mad, because I think they're not going to let me be in there with my wife. I'm extra mad, because nobody's telling me anything. Until finally, a nurse walks into where I am and tells me I can come in now. I walk into a room, and it looks like a scene from a movie or something. The doctor looks up, scalpel in hand, smiles, and says, "Oh, there you are." They put me behind the curtain with my wife's head and arms (looked like she was being crucified on a table). She's got the shakes so bad it looks like she's having detox withrawals. Actually, it was the meds from the epidural. I don't really remember much except that I was VERY supportive and VERY encouraging. Just had to throw that in there.
I'm up there with my wife's head, and she says, "Ow, it feels like somebody's standing on my chest." I say, "Well, the doctor's not that big; he may be!" Also about that time, about 3/4 of the way into the procedure, the anesthesiologist says, "Would you like to have something for those shakes?" My wife just about came off the table when he said that, like, "Why didn't you ask me that 15 minutes ago?" And it's never a good thing when you look around and see your anesthesiologist messing with his iPhone while you're having surgery!
About that time, we heard someone say, "Oh, there's the head." Someone else said, "That's alot of hair." Then, a minute later, we heard something like a suction cup. I actually didn't hear it, but my wife did. Later, we found out they had to use a vacuum to get the baby out. I'm not sure if it was an Oreck or a Bissel. A minute later we heard a short cry, then silence for what seemed like an eternity. Actually, it was only about 3 seconds, but it seemed like forever. Then, the baby started really crying.
They brought the baby around the curtain for us to see, but at this point, they'd not said whether it was a boy baby or a girl baby. We were praying hard that it was a girl baby... because that's what it was supposed to be, and the whole nursery is pink! And sure enough, it was a girl baby. We both breathed a sigh of relief. And the anesthesiologist was polite enough to lay down his iPhone and take a picture of the three of us.
They let me take lots of pictures in the OR. She weighed 8lbs 2oz, and was 21 inches long. My dad's cousin said it was the first time in history that a baby was taller than it's father.
I asked my wife if she wanted me to stay with her or go with the baby to the nursery. She wanted me to go with the baby, so I did, while they stitched her up, which took a REALLY... LONG... TIME.
The details are fuzzy, but I remember getting to hold my little girl and carry her down the hall to the waiting room to meet my parents, my wife's parents, my wife's sister, and our next door neighbors, who were awfully sweet to drive up to see us.
I just kind of hung out in the nursery for the next 45 minutes or so, while they finished working on my wife. She FINALLY made it to the recovery room, but it was still about another 30 minutes before my wife got to see the baby again. My wife stayed in recovery for about 2 hours total. She was in terrible pain and was terribly thirsty. I, of course, came to her rescue by bringing her diet coke and water. With the pain, though, I wasn't so helpful.
Fast forward again. It's about 4:00pm. We got settled into a postpartum room, and that's where we've been ever since, for over 30 hours. Our baby is healthy and beautiful. She's got a head full of brown hair with blond highlights. She's perfect, and that's really all I can say. She is perfect.
God has blessed us so tremendously. My wife and I shared our first good cry a few hours ago, just looking at our baby girl and thinking about how blessed we are. We came into the hospital expecting a very long day of labor, but by 1:00pm we had our little girl. My wife and I are looking forward to watching her and helping her grow up into a smart, beautiful, godly woman.
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