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What a whirlwind... Part 1

You're in your room right now, sleeping. Mom is on the bed next to you. You two are the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Tonight if your first night at home from the hospital, and our first night with you alone.

"Let me e'splane... No, there is too much. Let me sum up." -Inigo Montoya

I've always wanted kids, for as long as I can remember. For me, however, being a Dad requires having a wife to be a Mom. I looked around a lot before I settled on my final choice. Your Mom and I started dating on October 29, 1997. We got married on the same day in 2000. We decided to let our lives settle in for a few years before we started trying to have children. I'll spare you the details, as I'm sure your mother's 'blog has them all, but suffice to say, we tried for two years to get pregnant before we succeeded with you in April, 2006.

April is right about when we had given up and decided we were going to "stop trying to." Of course, we didn't "start trying not to" so we finally got pregnant. "The Act" happened on one of two occasions durring the few days that Owen, Paul and Andy were gone in the middle of Sapphire Moon Eclipsed. (Ask me for more details; hopefully, I've still got the DVD laying around. Further more, hopefully we can still play DVDs by the time you read this. :)

I know, I know, I know. You don't want to think about that part. I'll move on. :-)

At 6am(ish) on Saturday morning, May 6th, 2006, I was sleeping in the back of my truck with Kira at the Wildflower Triathalon, about to wake up to start the day. My phone rang. Your Mom was on the other end crying. I asked what was wrong, and immediately upon doing so, it dawned on me what was going on. The only words she could get out of her mouth were: "You're going to be a Daddy." I was floating on a cloud for the rest of the weekend, I could hardly contain myself. I had to, however. We agreed to not tell anyone about the pregnancy until the end of the first trimester to make sure it stuck.

The rest of the pregnancy isn't anything to write home about: Due date: Jan 10, 2006, Mom's belly grew, we got a bunch of stuff at showers and as hand-me-downs from friends and family, ultrasound told us we were having a baby girl, we took classes: birthing classes (aka Lamase(sp?)), infant and toddler CPR classes, breastfeeding classes, yadda yadda yadda: all in all, a pretty typical pregnancy...

...until the weekend of December 9th, 2006. For some reason that neither she nor I can figure out, Mom decided to take her blood pressure. It was high. Not obscenely high, but high. It was a BP cuff we'd never used before, so we assumed it just didn't work right. Next day, she took it again. It was a bit higher. Took it again, higher still. I decided to take my BP: totally normal. Monday morning, Mom took her BP again, and it was still rising, getting into the dangerous ranges. Mom decided to stop messing around and call her Midwifes office to schedule an appointment. This was Monday, December 11th at about 10:30am.

10:30am is the middle of her work day. She was logged in, working, IMing, emailing, etc. The doctor's office had a spot open at 11am, so she just dropped everything and went. They took her BP again (higher still: 170/120), and she had protien in her urine. Ask Dr. Google about preeclampsia for details on what this all means. Short version: Mom was getting very sick, very quickly, and was sent directly to the hospital for some blood tests. At this point, she called me and picked me up from my office on her way to the hospital (why I allowed her to drive at this point, I still don't know.)

I'll summarize some at this point. Mom had severe preeclampsia. If she didn't give birth in one way or another very quickly, both you and her could have died.

We caught it pretty early. Saturday or Sunday would have been better, but Monday was still do-able. I thank whatever powers that be that Mom felt the random urge to check her blood pressure on Saturday morning. If she hadn't, things could have gotten _MUCH_ worse. I don't want to think about what might have happened.

Monday was so "still do-able" that the Doc wanted to try inducing labor for a vaginal birth instead of going directly to a C-Section, which could have had you out in a matter of a couple hours, but would have Mom recovering for weeks longer than after a natural vaginal birth. Again, more summarizing, but after 24 hours of ripening and induction, your vital signs were not looking good, so at about 10am(-ish; this whole time is a blur in my memory) they pulled the plug and scheduled a C-Section for later that day.

At this point, I collapsed. I was on the brink for most of the previous 24 hours, since I got the call from Mom telling me that we were headed to the hospital. But, being told that our _ENTIRE_ birthplan was being thrown out the window, no chance of having the nice, natural, vaginal birth that nature had intended, where we could put baby directly to breast and let Momma and Baby bond for a few hours when it was most important and most effective, being told all this pushed me over the edge. I walked into the hallway to call Kathy Tuck, our Doula who was going to help coach Momma through a natural labor and vaginal birth, and promptly turned into a blubbering ball of goo. Kathy was asking whether I still wanted her to be there, and I couldn't get the words out: "Yes, please." She heard me shuddering, figured out what was happening, dropped everything and was by my side within about 17 seconds flat. (Ok, I'm exagerating here. It was closer to about 23 seconds.) Just knowing that Kathy was there to support me and Momma, to tell me that, yes, this really is necessary, was exactly what I needed. If you ever wonder why we still send holiday cards to this random chick, that's why.


At 12:04pm, on December 12th, 2006, Doctor Kromhaut pulled you from your Momma's belly by C-Section. 4lb 8oz, 17.25 inches. A wrinkly, purple, beautiful cross between a little old lady and Yoda.

I was with your Mom in the OR, holding her hand, giving her a play-by-play since she couldn't see anything, telling her how much I love her and that everything was going to be ok, etc.etc. She was so doped up on Magnesium Sulfate (a muscle relaxant to prevent seizures, which is what preeclampsia can lead to) that she doesn't remember much of these few days, so I'm glad I was there to remind her after the fact.

...It's late. I've got less than an hour before I have to get up for your next feeding. I'll continue this story tomorrow.

I love you, Zoe. :)


This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on December 16, 2006 10:07 PM.

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