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How to begin this one?
Well, I could say that my daughter started out as a twinkle in my eye, to grab
an old chestnut, but well, I think the twinkle was not just mine. My wife and I
decided to have her back in December of 2002, but we had problems at first, and
had a few miscarriages. After two doctors, and several visits, we worked out the
problems though, and then on a fateful weekend at the beginning of July, my
daughter was conceived.
Needless to say, we were thrilled! But then, just as quickly the specter of all
those miscarriages came back, and we were afraid. Luckily we found a Doctor who
would take things seriously. Dr. Chris Hutchinson was his name, and I think,
along with her parents, he is a very major part of why my daughter is here. He
scheduled ultrasound after ultrasound, and checked on us weekly to make sure
everything was okay. He gave my wife hormonal supplements, eliminating one of
the major risk factors that caused earlier miscarriages, and he even changed her
heart medication to something that was less risky to the unborn baby. In my own
mind, he is one of the miracle workers who brought this miracle out into the
world, and always will be.
Anyway, we got going down the road of pregnancy. Everything went well under the
fantastic care of a great doctor, and we began to put weeks, and then months
behind us. Really not a whole lot changed in those first few months. I think we
didn't know if we should believe it or not. But my daughter just kept growing,
and went from being this tiny little speck on the ultrasound monitor, to being a
peanut sized speck, then something that looked vaguely human, to a definite tiny
baby, to a full sized baby.
We were kept in the dark for the longest time about if she was really a she
though. At the first ultrasound where it might be viewable, my daughter decided
that was the perfect time to put her legs directly under her, and fold them, and
wouldn't move them for all the cajoling in the world. So we went with our gut
and said she was a girl. My Mother-in-Law said she was a girl, and my own gut
said she was too. But you know how things are with feelings, and Runes and
Tarot, you take what is there, and then find where it fits. Since we didn't
really have anything to fit her gender with, we just didn't know.
Through the fourth fifth and sixth month, all that was happening was picking up
the things we were going to need when my daughter got here, and we began to
really think about names. Since we didn't know if she was going to be a boy or a
girl we came up with both. We put a Pooh Bassinet and Bouncer, and Stroller,
and Infant Carrier, along with other things, on layaway at Wal-Mart, so we would
have them if we needed them, and didn't have to store them at the house. In all
honesty I think this was our own way of protecting ourselves, just in case the
worst should happen. But time went on, and things kept going.
Speaking of which, a major thing happened during this time. Weight! My wife
really started to show, though she still maintained that it was just looking
like she needed a diet. I tried to tell her otherwise but she wouldn't hear it.
She also found herself hungry at the oddest times, and then when she finally did
eat, she would take two bites and be done. This kind of thing kept up the whole
time she carried the Little One, and I honestly think that it was my daughter
ordering take-out more than anything else.
We rounded the Seventh Month, and started getting things out of layaway, and
making the room hospitable for the new baby then. I put together the Bassinet
with instructions in Spanish, and a stroller with no instructions at all. We
pre-registered for the hospital, and my daughter's big sister, my step-daughter,
got to go to a class called A Family Affair, and learned all about how her new
sister would change her life, making it better, and how she could help her learn
about the world. Mama began to really show at this point, the baby was doing
summersaults, and it only got bigger. I did find out a fun game I could play
with the new baby in the wee hours of the morning.
You take your hand and place it on the spaghetti sauced* belly and wait for the
baby to kick. when she did kick your hand, and invariably she would, you pushed
back. The baby would pause, and then kick again. So you push again. Not very
hard, just barely, knowing the baby would feel it, but not enough to really push
in. I could keep this game going for hours, kick/push, kick/push, until
eventually one morning, my daughter got very into the game, and kicked hard
enough to wake her Mama up. It made for an interesting explanation, and since
then I got very good at rolling over when I heard my beloved start to wake up
*snicker*.
Then the 8th month came along, and with it, the ultrasound at 34 weeks. That's
when my daughter decided to let the secret out of the bag and let us all know
she was a she. Her mama began to eat less more often, and the Big Sister began
to really get used to the idea of the baby. Right at the end of this month, my
wife was having Braxton Hicks contracts regularly, and she had already began to
dilate. The Kidlet was coming, and she wasn't sure it was a good idea.
Every time a contraction would come along, especially if it was a hard one, the
Little One would fly into a tizzy, kicking and punching and generally being very
active. It would even give her hiccups on occasions that you could keep time
with, almost like a metronome. We began to find her heartbeat easier and easier
then, and when we did find it, it sounded like a galloping horse. We had rented
a Doppler Monitor by then and were listening regularly, and even got a
recording. We could hear her move, and even toward the end of this time, could
see her moving under the skin of the belly, which was beginning to take on the
shape of a watermelon. Even though my wife didn't think so, she was looking more
and more beautiful to me. To this day, I still maintain she is the strongest and
most beautiful woman I know, and lugging around all that extra weight, and even
managing to do it with grace, just went to prove it. I'm feeling closer to her
now, and am thoroughly enjoying this time. The Kiddo (my step daughter) was even
getting in on the act, playing with the baby and talking to it, though the green
eyed monster showed itself a few times with "pay attention to me" behavior, she
was really looking forward to her new sister.
Then the Ninth Month began. The statement "it's too derned hot in this room, but
I'm freezing my petuschkie off" only makes sense when it is come from the mouth
of a pregnant woman in the ninth month. My daughter was incredibly active by
this point, jabbing random body parts out and spinning like a top, doing all
sorts of acrobatics, so much so in fact, that Mama's Belly seems to be doing the
samba sometimes.
Speaking of which it was wild to watch her belly when a contraction would hit.
It would get as hard as a rock for a minute or two, sometimes almost doubling
her over with the force of it, then it would pass, and then in reaction to it,
my daughter would go nuts, punching and kicking her little heart out, voicing
her opinion of the room closing in on her. Kiddo was a little mixed about things
it seemed, sometimes being very excited about her new sister, and sometimes
thinking that she wasn't so sure if this whole sibling thing was such a good
idea. It made for some great comedy routines in her pursuit of attention, but
all in all, it was really the same way every only child acts when a new baby is
coming along. Heck, I think I probably acted the same way, and only hoped that,
unlike me, she wouldn't assault the doctor in defense of my daughter when it was
time for immunizations.
Well time always goes on, and the ninth month was no different. About the
37th-38th week, Mama began to finally show signs of Pre-eclampsia, which is the
beginnings of Toxemia, which for those of you without MDs, RNs, or other nifty
initials behind your name, is basically the kidneys and liver starting to shut
down under the extra strain of the growing baby, and is very prevalent with
women who have hypertension. Mama also had Toxemia badly with the Kiddo, though
it happened much earlier.
So off to bed rest she went. The Little One's Mama doesn't take having nothing
to do well, just ask her Nanny how many times she growled at her to get back in
bed. And that doesn't even touch the times I told her she wasn't going back to
work, and that she needed to be at home. But, well, she's always been the
responsible sort, so the bedroom got cleaned, all of my daughter's things were
put away, and the bassinet was set up just so, waiting for my daughter to fill
it.
Then finally was the appointment where the induction date was set for March
18th.
Well, the day finally arrived.
We knew that my daughter was coming, so of course neither her mom, nor myself,
slept more than two hours tops. The alarm went off at 4:30 am, and up we got out
of bed, and gave the hospital a call, just to make sure they had the bed
available.
They did and we went.
At 5:45 we arrived at the hospital, signed in, and things got started. The first
thing that happened is we waited. Seems my daughter wasn’t the only little one
to be born that day. Once we were called back by the OB nurse, my daughter’s
Nanny, her mom, and myself settled down in the room, while the IV drip that
would begin labor started to do it’s work. At the time, the room looked huge,
and everyone who visited it reasonably asked why everyone couldn’t be back there
to welcome my daughter into the world. The hospital had very good reasons for
wanting so few people in the room, as we would see later.
We breathed in rhythm. We sat. We napped. Eventually though, the contractions
became hard, and it was time for the Epidural. After a few tries, and more
strength then I would have had under the same circumstances, they finally got it
in correctly, and we had a good deal of time to rest.
I fell asleep in the lull there and don’t remember much of it. When I went to
sleep, my daughter was still decently high, and the cervix was at 5 cm. When I
woke up, my daughter was working her way out, and the cervix was fully dilated!
Talk about your sudden shocks. It was finally show time!
The doctor was called and gave clearance to begin pushing. Nanny took one leg, I
took the other, and the nurse, who proved to be a godsend, kept count and
tracked my daughter’s progress into this world. A few pushes, and she began
crowning. So the pushing had to stop. We had begun to notice my daughter’s heart
rate was getting low, and even lost it once or twice all together. Needless to
say, something was not right. The doctor was called again, and he made his way
right over. In the mean time, my daughter’s mom was put on Oxygen, and my
daughter had to be watched very closely. They installed a lead to my daughter’s
scalp so they could watch her heart rate closely, and everyone tried to stay
calm while waiting for the Doctor.
When he arrived, pushing began in earnest, and the OB staff geared up, preparing
for the worst. That room, that had appeared so large, quickly shrank, and became
filled with all sorts of gadgets and tools, that even a decently intelligent
person like myself couldn’t entirely fathom. Everyone got ready for the heavy
pushing, and I took up my position again, holding my wife’s leg, helping her
push my daughter out into the world.
Her head crowned, and with a few really great bits of work from her Mom, her
head was free. However, when her head came out we saw what the problem had been
for her all along. Her umbilical cord had wrapped around her neck somehow, in
what’s call a Nuchal cord, severely cutting down her supply of fresh, oxygenated
blood. Thank the Gods for Dr. Chris though. Without skipping a beat, he informed
me he needed to cut the Umbilical early, and deftly clamped two spots on the
cord, and had my daughter loose. After that, two good pushes and she was out in
the world, on March 18th, at 5:06pm.
Then the nurses did what they do best. Dr. Chris got her breathing, and crying
well, and then it was off for the Apgar. my daughter scored exceptionally well,
especially considering her earlier problems. Then she and I made our rounds
around the room, letting Nanny hold her new grand-daughter, and then taking her
over to Mom, who was getting the bits that had seen better days after serving as
the door into the world for my daughter. I called her Grandma in New Jersey, her
aunts and her Nanny called her Great Uncle.
I picked her back up, so Mama could finish recovery, and then went with my
daughter down to the nursery. There is where the real testing began. She was
weighed (7 lbs 3.3 ounces), measured (20.5 inches) and had her feet stamped,
among a dozen or so other measurements. We waited for my daughter in the room
she was delivered in, and then after about a half an hour or so, in the room we
would spend the next two days.
During that time, Nanny and I took a little surreptitious trip down to the gift
shop where we got every little thing to herald the arrival of my daughter in the
world, from an Ty Angel Bear, to a Big Sister pin for the Kiddo, to a Big Pink
Bow for the room door, to a basket of flowers to the Mom who had worked so hard
to bring my daughter to us. At the time, my wife and I didn’t really have the
money for all this, but of course, as it always is, when it matters, Nanny came
through, and made sure that her grandbaby had everything that she could give
her. We came back up to the room, purchases in hand, right in time to go down to
the Nesting Place with Mom.
After a bit of time waiting there, we ordered a pizza in, since everyone who had
helped with bringing my daughter in, was now unwinding, exhausted and hungry,
and I was getting very impatient with waiting on the nursery to get finished
with their measurements.
So I headed down there to check.
And then again.
And on the third time, I waited for her at the nursery, irritating the staff,
but finally getting my daughter down to her family, waiting in the nesting room.
Of course, right when I had her brought to the nurse’s station to be checked
into the Nesting Place, that I was informed the Pizza had arrived. So I waited
long enough to get my daughter into the room, and headed downstairs to meet the
pizza delivery, check in hand.
I came back with the pizza, and everyone spent a bit of time getting to know my
daughter. Her Pawpaw finally got to hold her, and, just as with everyone else,
he fell for her right off the bat.
I helped Nanny, Pawpaw, her Aunt and Big Sister collect everything they had
brought with them over the day, and after a bit of wrangling with the security
guard on the crosswalk between the parking garage and the hospital that we could
indeed come back in after making the luggage run to the car, they were on their
way home, tired, but happy after the day.
Our first night with my daughter was an eventful one to say the least. She just
plain couldn’t decide if it was time to sleep or time to eat. She nursed for a
little while, then slept, and then nursed again. It was going well until the gas
began. My daughter, like all newborns, wasn’t quite adjusted to her digestive
tract yet, and so every time she ate, the gas was just unbearable for her.
Things ended up being shift work, with Mama sleeping for a bit, and then me
sleeping. We were barely treading water though, and by 5 am, we had called the
nurse to help us with getting her fed. She took my daughter down to the nurses
station, and fed her a bottle, while my wife and I got some much needed sleep.
When my daughter came back to the room, she was sound asleep and well fed,
letting all of us sleep until about 8:30 am.
I honestly don’t remember her waking up at this point. I had sat up with her
most of the night, letting Mama get some much needed rest. The trade-off was,
when I went to sleep, *I went to sleep*. Mama was woken up at some point by her
crying, and took care of her until I woke up around 9 am, or so.
Then we had a relatively non-eventful day, and thoroughly enjoyed our time
together. She nursed a few times, with help from a lactation nurse giving Mama a
few helpful tips, and had the next group of tests, which my daughter passed with
flying colors.
By the evening, the difficulties we had with her the night before in getting her
to nurse began to rear their head again. She was hungry but couldn’t seem to
latch onto the nipple, so she could eat. With help we were able to get her to
latch on after a bit of finagling, but on our own we could never have any luck,
leaving my daughter more and more upset, and use more and more frustrated.
The extended family came by in the afternoon, accompanied by Donne, a close
friend of the family. my daughter’s Pawpaw couldn’t make it though, because he
and his brother needed to leave for Florida on Friday morning, to collect his
things left there. A hour or two later, our friends, Crystal and Kevin dropped
by as well. The Little One made sure to make herself into the life of the party,
just by being her cute self. She made the rounds in everyone’s arms, and
everyone that was there said she was just plain adorable!
She slept through most of the visit in reality, after waking to coo at every new
set of arms that she found herself in. Towards the end though, she was becoming
clearly hungry, and as before we couldn’t get her to breastfeed. So we resorted
to the bottle of lactose free formula, if for no other reason than we didn’t
have a breast pump to get breast milk out for her.
She had an ounce down in under 10 minutes, and outside of really big burps, she
had no problems with getting it down. We had at least temporarily a winner!
After eating, she easily went back to sleep.
Everyone went on home, and then the real fun began. Both Mom and Baby had gas,
and it was making everyone miserable. She didn’t want to eat, but she was
hungry, Mom was hurting and so, snappy to say the least, and there was nothing
really I could do about it. We asked the nurses what we needed to do, and while
I was thinking that a Lactose-Free bottle would be a good idea again, My Wife
didn’t want to give up on breastfeeding yet.
A lot of crying and even a little screaming later, we had finally come to the
realization that her Mom having slightly smaller nipples, combined with my
daughter being born with a recessed chin, had conspired to make it impossible
for my daughter to breastfeed. So it was off to the bottle with her. She drank
as if she had never drank anything before, and then, after a good burp or three,
went straight to sleep. We weren't sure if it was the end of breastmilk, but we
knew it meant that she couldn't nurse well.
Mom called Nanny to have a bit of small talk, and I sat down to type a few more
details into this narrative while they were fresh in my memory. At the end of
it, we both bedded down for the night, for the discharge the next morning.
Which of course didn't happen.
We ended up surviving two more days in the hospital, because my wife was having
trouble building up her hemoglobin levels again. Then it was time to bring our
sweetheart home, where everyone was waiting to see her.
She may have been up to seeing everyone, and she may not have been. This is
still up to some debate. Let me explain; once we got my wife's hemoglobin levels
up, her breast milk came in. But we had a sneaking suspicion that my daughter
was Lactose Intolerant, so we hesitated giving it to her. On the night she came
home, we fed her breast milk, and she was up all the night that night with me.
Still, I think it was simply a matter of having all those changes and new people
at the same time. In any case, that next morning, we set up the swing that we
had gotten for her (which by the way, was identical to the Kiddo's old swing),
and my daughter calmed right down.
We kept her awake through that day, and continued to feed her breast milk. The
following night, since she was tired, out she went, and we got a good night
sleep.
It's had it's ups and downs since then, but through it all, I have to say, all
that's come of it is I've come to love my Little One even more. When I sat down
to write this story, I didn't have an ending.
I still don't.
But I've loved writing it, and don't regret a moment of it. I love you, my
Little One, and always will.
That's what Daddy's do.
*It ain't about the Ragu, it's about the Prego!
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