It’s been quite a while since I have posted here. Julie has turned into quite a proficient blogger over the last 9 months as she leaned on me less and less to update everyone on her progress and the significant moments that have occurred during the pregnancy. Most recently she has even surprised me with posts and then says, “Okay, you add the pictures!” (One of these posts are still waiting for those pictures…) However, now that you have Julie’s perspective up to Reed’s birth, I will take the reigns and add my experience as the first-time father… the lesser role of child birth, and often unheard. -RB
I have a regular meeting on Tuesdays at 3pm. It was primarily because of this meeting that I did not go with Julie to her 38-week check up at the doctor. After all, we had our last sonogram at the previous visit (which I was there for) and the following visits would be simple status updates for the doctor. We also knew that Julie’s body had not made ANY progress towards labor at that visit and nothing had happened during the week to lead us to believe that she had made any progress for THIS visit. So, we opted for business as usual and Julie would fly solo… besides my company was prepping for a major release and it was only a matter of time.
At 4:15pm I got a text from Julie that essentially said, “I don’t care what you are doing, call me NOW!” I was in my office following up on meeting notes, so I promptly called. What transpired from that call was what every pregnant couple dreads… the onslaught of emotion when you are taken by surprise and totally unprepared for it. She said, “Get to the hospital as fast as you can, they are taking me across the street to be induced!!”. (I’ll spare you too many duplicate details from Julie’s previous post.) I got off the phone and was frantically shutting down my computer, saying “Oh my God, Oh my God!!” with every application I had to close down. I ran to my boss’ office, gave him the news and then ran home. (Yes, ran. For those of you that are not aware of my extremely blessed commute, my neighborhood shares a boundary with my office parking lot and our backyard fence and gate is that boundary.)
Shortly after 5:30pm, I arrived at the hospital (I actually passed it and had to double-back) with our bags, but I left them in the car to go meet Julie in the labor and delivery room. She had monitors hooked up for her blood pressure and the fetal heart rate. I could tell she was starting to calm down with just my presence, but we were both very anxious about what could possibly be happening that night. Since they were just running tests on her, we were hesitant to make those “priority one” phone calls yet.
At 7:30pm, the doctor broke her water and there was no turning back. The only question now was whether he was going to come natural or by c-section… but we weren’t going home without a baby!! It was now time to make our way down the phone list, starting with priority one — the grandmothers-to-be. My new position: Director of Outside Communication.
Not long after I assumed this new position did I take Julie’s phone from her. She was in active labor and had no interest anymore. I was essentially dual-texting for some time, but I elected to put hers aside and deem mine the “Bat Phone”. I had family in the waiting room now and that was one less thing to keep up with.
I will say now that the key tools to my new position were Twitter and Facebook. On Facebook, I have the Twitter application setup to update my Facebook status. A simple text message to Twitter and potentially hundreds of people would be updated instantly. After all, it WAS after the typical workday, when Facebook gets the majority of its user traffic. This also provided an active log for those people that came on later in the night to see the chain of events that had transpired up to the most recent update. I didn’t bother to respond to many of the comments and responses to my updates since I was still primarily there by Julie’s side to help during the contractions, and battery life was essential!!
At their peak, the contractions were about 2 minutes apart. I was watching the contraction monitor for her and got to the point where I could read it and tell her when there was an upturn and to expect another contraction. I would hold her hand tighter and she would know to brace herself.
The IV drugs gave her a bit of a reprieve from the pain, and the nurse said that the first dose was always the best. So, she took advantage and caught a nap when they took effect. I took advantage and ate the dinner that Laurie and Dave had brought me. I also coordinated with my sisters to take our extra car back to the house while the parking attendants were gone for the night (and we wouldn’t have to pay parking).
Julie sweated out the contractions on only IV drugs for about 3 hours. At 1am she called in for the big-boy needle… the friendly epidural. Her body wasn’t making any progress so it wasn’t going to make a difference if the epidural slowed her progress at all. I sent the family home at this point and assured that I would call if there was any significant change. That also allowed both of us settle in for the night and catch what sleep we could. It was certain that nothing would happen until morning at the earliest.
I snuggled up on the sleeper chair in the corner with one of those heated blankets that Labor and Delivery is known for. It was after 2am. The lights were out in the room except for all the monitors that Julie was hooked up to. (I took the opportunity to try some low-light photography with my camera, but nothing turned out that great. Still practicing.)
4am: The nurse and doctor come in to check on Julie’s progress. She was still only dilated to 3cm and had technically been in labor for 8 hours now. The doctor said, “Let’s do it. Let’s go have a baby!” As Director of Outside Communications, I jumped on the phone and talked both of our mothers again. They each spread the word from there to the immediate families.
Meanwhile, Julie was getting prepped for surgery. I asked point-blank, “Can I take my camera in with me?” The nurse obliged, “Certainly!” Sweet! Apparently this is not the norm, so I felt very privileged.
They wheeled her down to the operating room and I walked behind with my camera over my shoulder. When we got there, they directed me to the bunny suit I had to put on while she was being prepped in the operating room. A head cover, shoe covers, face mask, and a full body white cloth jumpsuit had my name on it. The operating room doors were open, so I snagged a couple photos from a distance and setup my camera settings for the optimal shots in the extremely bright setting. I was ready for duty.
They called me in and I took my place on a stool placed on Julie’s left side, next to her head and above the curtain. I was given full permission to take pictures of whatever portion of the delivery I wanted to, only to stay in my place next to her. Seeing the surgery was as easy as standing up and peeking over the curtain!
I was a little hesitant at first, and I was also tending to Julie (she was actually struggling to keep her eyes open). I got up the nerve to stand and watch just before they were talking hold of Reed to pull him out. “He’s a blondie!”, they said. I got some wonderful shots and the doctor even held him for a pose before they cut the cord! I wasn’t even asked to cut the cord. They may have assumed I would rather take pictures of the action instead OR it may not have been an option with the c-section surgery. Whatever the reason, I was glad to be in the spot I was to capture the moments.
As they pulled him out, I heard the surgeons speaking about a “true knot”. The doctor said they were very rare and even held it out for me to capture that as well. Sure enough, it was an overhand knot in the umbilical cord!! The implications of this are truly scary, as we later found out that in vaginal birth cases, this knot is tightened down and it cuts off the baby’s oxygen supply. This leads to emergency c-sections, cerebral palsy, and even death.
Let me pause here to let you digest that….
The nurses took Reed from the operating table and over to the side to be cleaned and weighed. They diapered him, wrapped him up and then handed him to me… Holy cow, I’m a Dad!!
Then the anesthesiologist did something that we will forever be grateful for: she took my camera from me, told me to pull down my mask, and a nurse placed Reed on Julie’s chest — we posed for our first family photo right there in the operating room!
I took Reed back in my arms while the surgeons began stitching her back up. The doctor even gave me an anatomy lesson as he showed me the uterus and fallopian tubes before he put them back inside! (I’m thinking to myself, “That’s great doc, make sure they work again.”) To think about that now out of context feels a little unnerving, but it was all very fascinating. I think any aversion I have to blood and guts goes away when it is in a controlled environment like an operating room. I did my share of dissections and even saw a deer cleaned recently, but seeing your wife cut open takes that to a whole other level.
The rule in the operating room was that the mother didn’t leave the room without the baby and vice-versa. So, when Julie was stitched up and then transferred back to the stretcher (I helped), we set Reed in her arms and I followed down the hallway back to the labor and delivery room. There, the majority of our immediate families were waiting for us and cheered when they saw Julie and the healthy baby.
It was a tremendous roller coaster of emotions and nothing I could have imagined on my own, but an experience that I will certainly never forget. Some of God’s greatest gifts are those unanswered prayers (thanks, Garth). Julie really wanted to give birth naturally, and the doctor allowed us to go down that path as long as it was safe. However, because of Julie’s high blood pressure, her body’s lack of progress and Reed’s transverse position in the uterus, a vaginal birth was no longer an option. All these reasons I attribute to God’s intervention in our life. It is humbling to think abut what could have been if we had our way. I thank God and I thank the doctor for making the RIGHT decision.
-RB
