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Do not grow slack in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in tribulation, steadfast in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the holy ones, exercise hospitality. ~ Romans 12:11-13


Apr 18, 2011

Jon's version of Caleb's birthing......

Here is Jon's version of the birthing drama....Please keep in mind that Jon is a fantasy writer and this has a fair amount of exaggeration! But enjoy!
Having been diagnosed with preeclampsia, the doctor rushed my "37th week of pregnancy" wife Jen and I into the hospital with the intent to push her c-section up two weeks. Being members of the "Git er done" society, that worked well with us.  Unfortunately, anesthesia rules made us wait 5 hours. Would it not have been for her extravagant lunch of small handful of nuts and two little tuna balls, they would have taken her sooner. I guess they figured that her swollenness meant her handfuls were actually quite large.

Once we got there, they hooked Jen up to the monitors and, like Pavlov's dog, her body started contracting minorly without any encouragement by drugs. I guess old habits die hard. However, that was the closest brush we actually had with labor. Funny, after 8 previous labors, not having an actual labor made the whole event seem bland. But I did what I could. The near fainting father in the birthing room next to me needed some back up anyway. Good thing I knew Spanish. Or at least enough to get me kicked out of the room.

The toughest part of Jen's delivery was the waiting. Ironically, my wife got to see what it was like for the expectant fathers years ago who had to collectively huddle together as they anxiously waited. Football prepares us men but as a female, she just wasn't ready at all. She tried cheering, twirling a baton, and marching like she did in color guard but nothing helped. I put some cigars in her pocket and told her to act tough. She did pretty good as she slapped the first guy she saw on the back and said "Don't worry. It'll be fine!" Backed arched in pain, the passing doctor sobbed like a three year old girl who just dropped her freeze pop. Never knew a grown man could curl up in the fetal position so fast.

Nonetheless they soon took mom and baby into delivery room. Separating room is more like it. Parting room would work but that could be a barber shop.

Waiting to go join Jen in the O.R., I got to put on the blue smurf suit that was supposed keep everything sterile in the operating room. Which makes sense since both me and my wife obviously had a problem with sterility. With so many people having asked us if we know what causes pregnancy, I guess there are some misconceptions out there. Maybe the female nurses were concerned. Either way, Juan didn't recognize me so I had a chance to yell "Push!"

I never knew security guards were so fast.

I was escorted in to see my wife right before the O.B ("old butcher") started to slice and dice her midsection. "We good?" I asked in an unappreciated spunkiness.  "Think you could do better?" he growled, pointing the scalpel at me. He was unimpressed with my hastily recited tale of eight prior birthings and self taught skills of cutting up raw chicken for supper. Some credits just don't carry over. At least he wasn't curled up on the floor anymore.

They started the operation at 9:31 pm and Caleb was born at 9:36.  Wow. That's fast. I've waited longer at drive thru.

Our baby was a tiny little dude. 4 lbs. 14.1 oz. 17" long. A bag of sugar weighed more.

With the curtain blocking my view, I didn't get to see him pop out. Apparently, my poultry preparation experience didn't qualify me for a front row seat. To lighten the moment, I asked if he'd seen his shadow. Security guards apparently come in the blue suit variety, too.

I did get to see him in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit (NICU).  NICU (pronounced "Nick you" ) sounds more like a close call with a razor than a place to visit your baby. Like all of our other ones, Caleb looked like a pink Yoda.  "May the force be with you!"  I exclaimed. Juan's fist agreed. So did Security.

While Jen was in recovery, they put instruments on her to monitor her status. She wasn't stabilizing as fast as I'd hoped but putting the monitors on me didn't seem to help things along either.

They made Jen stay in the labor and delivery area for the night so they could keep a better eye on her. With rooms booked up, I slept on the hospital bed next to her. Being a sound sleeper helped me not notice the hourly commotion in the room but I woke up with a catheter, an epidural, and a contracting uterus. Gives a whole new meaning to sympathy pains.

The hospital was fine but their food was expensive. They took my baby out and my cash with him. Insurance doesn't take care of everything.

Frankly, it's nice having my gangly little hobbit. Gollum from the Lord of the Rings said it best. (He) came to me. My own. My precious.

Love ya, little guy.

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