We'll let this section serve as the 'prologue' for the blog. Even though the baby has already been born, there was so much that happened in the days and weeks before his coming out that acted as a foundation for our adventures together. I'm not referring to the huffing/puffing waddling, or the hundreds of unwarranted parental advice that had already started trickling in, or even pregnancy cravings (it was all chocolate anyway). Melissa had a sudden spike in blood pressure around the 34th week of pregnancy that led to swelling in all her joints and appendages. Blood pressure seems like one of those things that people try to make sound like a big deal but really isn't (like a hairline fracture just because it has the word 'fracture' in it). So we just let it sit for a few days and figured we'd bring it up on our next doctor's visit. Turns out high blood pressure late in the pregnancy was an early sign of a rare complication called "preeclampsia", which turns into full blown "eclampsia" which can result in seizures or death. Fast forward a little bit, once the doctors detected this high blood pressure, they started putting Meliss on watch, and more and more symptoms began to appear. Headaches, protein in the urine, etc. We went back to the hospital several times a week for several hours at a time to do these NST stress tests where they had Melissa tied up to a bed monitoring her pulse and blood pressure. Apparently the only cure for preeclampsia was delivering the baby and we would be terrified because every visit we made to do these NST's, the nurses would say "yep, looks like you might have to stay here tonight. We're gonna have to bring the baby out." Now, Melissa and I are professional procrastinators by trade, but even we weren't prepared at the thought of having our baby out so many weeks early. The house was still a mess, the baby room wasn't even set up, I hadn't said my final goodbyes to my friends yet, and my whole family was overseas and weren't due back for another few weeks. But something suddenly triggered in Melissa and she turned to, what she called, "full-nesting mode". I never heard the term before but it makes perfect sense and apparently it's a real thing. Mom's-to-be get in this zone where they just become anxious at the arrival of their new one and begin 'nesting' and preparing for the baby. The house became sparkling clean, all the baby clothes and gifts organized and put away, decorations set, and two Target trips in 24 hours that resulted in almost $1000 worth of new baby gear. Now we were ready.
The doctor suggested we begin inducing labor on Friday, October 17th and have the baby by October 18th, which just so happened to be Melissa's birthday as well. Melissa was excited at the prospect of sharing a birthday with the baby but all I wanted was to spend one more day with Meliss where it was just me and her. I hadn't gotten my mind right yet and it terrified me how much the baby would change things once he came into this world. Melissa and I are a few months short of having been together for 10 years and there has never been a dull moment. So many memories, so much laughter, all our priorities and attention on each other. I wasn't quite ready to give it up yet. Everyone always tells me that having a kid is the greatest thing in the world and so much fulfillment comes from it. I found that hard to believe because right now, the greatest thing in the world is just me and her against the world. So we took a day off from baby prep. Got ourselves a massage, watched a movie, went to our special date spot at Benihanas... and throughout the night, I'd catch myself squeezing her hand tightly, just wanting assurance that we'd be okay. 24 hours away lies the biggest milestone of both of our lives and i was doing everything in my power to keep it together.
Sunday, October 19th. The day of reckoning. I remember waking up that morning feeling somber and grim. I have a tendency to be overly dramatic sometimes but it felt like today was the day that I was going into battle, knowing nothing would ever be the same again. I felt like nobody else in the world had ever had a baby so nobody would understand the anxiety and anticipation I felt. It seemed ironic that all my life I had looked forward to being a dad, and now that the day was here, I saw it with such disparage. We didn't have to check into the hospital until 11pm that night and to be completely honest, I do not remember
anything from this day. The whole day was just an emotional blur. I just remember loading the bags in the car at 11pm and how quiet things were outside. A cool fog had started to settle in and the silence just unnerved me more and overrode all feelings of excitement or joy. The ride was quiet. Checking into the hospital was quiet. You know how in those movies where the main character has to walk past strangers and peers alone before facing their challenge? And everyone looks all sad and sympathetic at you but you are trying your best to keep your chin from quivering and your head held high? That's how I felt on this final drive and walk into the hospital (overly dramatic, right?) and it wasn't even ME having the baby.
It was a long night that night. The stupid nurse who came in to check on Melissa every half hour or so neglected to tell me that the arm chair I was so unsuccessfully trying to sleep on was also a pull-out cot. At one point, I slithered off the chair and ended up just sleeping on the floor and using the chair just to rest my head. It was only after they switched shifts, the next nurse saw me at 5:30am curled up like a fetus (how appropriate) that she woke me up and pulled out the cot for me. Little did I know that this would be my bed for most of the rest of the week.
Around mid-afternoon, Meliss started feeling the pains from the contractions. It started off lightly at first... just some tension every few minutes... but like that Drake song, it went 0-100 real quick. Or, because of Melissa's incredible pain tolerance, more like 0-50 real quick. They had warned us earlier that because the baby hadn't dropped yet, induced labor would be extremely painful and they recommended getting epidural right away. Meliss had a plan of her own in her head so she decided to play it out like a champ and see if she could just go au natural. After all, this preeclampsia forced us to induce and already robbed us of the experience of having her water break in the middle of the night and us rushing off the ER like chickens with our heads cut off just like we seen on TV. Doctors would keep coming in to check on her and she'd grit her teeth and tell them that it was okay. That the pain was only about a 5-6 on a scale to 10. She never complained, never made a noise. Finally, they decided to see how dilated she was. They were surprised to find out she was already at 6cm. The doctor commented that Melissa's pain tolerance must've been through the roof if she only said this was a 5-6 on the pain scale. She said by this point, many women are already screaming and pulling their hair. All of a sudden her heart rate started dropping. Her blood pressure was still high, but because of the heavy dosage of meds they gave her to counter the bp, it affected her heart rate and dropped it down to 48. The anesthesiologist insisted that pretty much the only option here now was to get an epidural. Even though it wasn't in her 'plan', I'm sure after a few hours of painful contractions, anyone would find relief in some help to take the edge off and I wouldn't blame her. I used to always kid with her that I knew exactly how crowning and contractions felt because of that one time that I took the biggest dump of my life and it probably weighed the same as a newborn but I will never repeat that joke again because now I know that unless I'm sh*tting out a straight up pumpkin I will never understand the pain that mothers go through in delivery. Watching Melissa put 110% into delivering Isaiah, into every push even as she was turning purple in the face, veins popping, and all I could do was helplessly stand by holding her hand and telling her she was doing a great job. Even then, it was a silent, and dignified march into parenthood. No screams, no thrashing, no swearing like we had heard down the halls just hours before - just her love, joy, and hope as the driving force behind each push.
I also used to joke that I'd probably cry my first time seeing the baby. I didn't think I'd really do it of course, but just joking at how sentimental the moment must be. Boy, I had no idea. The moment that baby came out, my life changed in an instant. My vision blurred and the tears rushed involuntarily out as I met him for the first time. My knees felt weak.
I made you from my balls, man. Melissa, on the other hand, was a lot more calm and collected than I was. As soon as the baby came out in all it's long-headed, purple colored glory, she hoarsely whispered, "you're here! you're finally here." The baby didn't even cry when he came out. They had to stick something down his throat to make him cry. Shoot. Both mommy and baby just went through the trauma of their lives and I'm the only one standing on the side spectating and crying like a nancy boy. The doctor doing the delivery even had to pause for a moment to ask if I was okay. But I'm not ashamed to admit it. That's right. God just gave us the greatest gift and responsibility of our lives... how could I not get emotional?
This chapter has ended. A new one simultaneously beginning. It wasn't as bad as my wild imagination had led me to believe, and I'm actually looking forward to what comes next.
