How it all began

Hubby asked me today if I ever posted our birth story on the blog. Since this blog is very much a diary of Baby Boy's early years, I thought it was a good idea. It's almost two years out of date, but here it is all the same, told from the perspective of daddy (note: I've used initials instead of proper names):

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Baby boy's birth was a literally a wild ride. JK had been having some false labor up until about 11:00pm on Tuesday when she fell asleep. At 3:00am (of course) she was awakened by a loud popping sound which was her water breaking. At that point and for about the next hour her contractions were very strong and 5 minutes apart. We called the midwife, CB, and she said call back in an hour, or sooner if anything changes. With first babies the assumption is that labor will carry on like this for hours. My role was pretty much non-existent at this point. JK fell into a trance-like state and did not want to be touched (except by the hot water in the shower).

One hour later, I called CB and said that the last three contractions came 2 minutes apart! In minutes CB was at our door. When she performed the initial assessment JK was FULLY dilated but unfortunately Baby Boy was breech (all our efforts in the preceding weeks to turn him had either failed or the little bugger managed to turn back). Anyway, at this point CB said I'm sorry but from here on out this isn't going to happen the way you planned. We're going to the hospital now, in an ambulance (this was the wild ride part), and an emergency c-section is really the only safe option now. On the way to the hospital JK was instructed that under no circumstance should she push at all, no matter what. Otherwise a very high-risk delivery in the ambulance was a distinct possibility.

Had Baby Boy been facing head down there is no way we would have had time to make it to the hospital, CB would later estimate that he would have been born before 5:00am if all had been well. But make it to the hospital we did. Once there I was immediately sent to attend to some administrative details (i.e., they made sure I was out of the way while they sized up the situation). I thought this was pretty lame, and JK was distressed by my absence and protested that the operation not start until I returned. They assured her it would not and when I returned I was sent off to change into hospital scrubs and then met JK and the team in the OR. JK was all ready to go: epidural had been administered; beeping machines had been attached; cloth barrier to block JK's view had been erected; obstetrician Dr. D--who was taking over primary care of JK (CB was to retain care of Baby Boy)--had scalpel in hand; the resident looked eager to observe; nurses looked eager to nurse; an old salty-looking surgeon with white hair and a pirate-style bandana (instead of the standard issue paper hat) stood back looking sleepy; the anesthesiologist scurried around cracking jokes ("JO, you are welcome to stand and watch the whole thing, or sit on this chair. But if you get dizzy at any point and feel like you might faint, just lay on the floor over there, we find that that position gives fathers the least distance to fall if they do faint). The procedure unfolded rather quickly--like clockwork really. Clearly they had done this once or twice before. As the moment arrived to reach in and pluck Baby Boy from the womb I leaned in for a better look. CB explained that this would be the tricky part and that it might look bad because JK was fully dilated, and with Baby Boy in a full breech position he was wedged deep in her pelvis. With vigor, Dr. D tried twice to dislodge him, but he wouldn't budge, and with that the old surgeon elbowed Dr. D out of the way, reached in with his giant hands and with some effort and a grunt brought Baby Boy into the world on the first pull. I was completely astounded by the sight of Baby Boy. While JK couldn't see the delivery she could see my face, so she knew the exact moment when he arrived by the widening of my eyes.

Baby Boy's one minute Apgar score was 9/10 (blue hands and feet kept him from scoring a ten). JK and Baby Boy were only allowed to meet for a few seconds before CB, Baby Boy and I were ushered out of the OR and over to a nursery on the other side of the building. By now Baby Boy's temperature was 36 degrees so they laid him on my chest inside my shirt and piled warm blankets on us--which they obtained from a very slick automatic warm blanket-dispensing machine. This was the hardest part for JK (and Baby Boy and I) because she ended up being separated from us for over an hour. Our spirits improved considerably when we were reunited in the recovery room, and everyone was amazed when Baby Boy nursed within 10 seconds of being presented to JK.

In the days that followed the hospital environment was a bit stressful with constant interruptions and people looking over our shoulders, but the staff were very kind and with it being the 'HM' we had lots of opportunities to practice our official languages. Though most of the staff spoke English, there were many baby-specific and health care-specific Engish and French terms that they/we did not know, so comedy ensued with our attempts to understand each other. We left the hospital after two nights, and life has been much better since we returned home.