The End, The Beginning- Part II

When they finally came to get me and told me that I could go back and see you, I was sufficiently nervous. The cool of the "doctor posing" had worn off, and a half an hour had gone by. I had pretty much sweated through my scrubs and shirt, wringing my hands and pacing, waiting to be taken to the OR. I was wondering what a "restricted pelvis" really meant and if there was any way that they could have known from the get-go that your Mom has one so she wouldn't have had to under go so much pain.

But when I walked in and saw your mother's face, and all the doctors hovering over her behind a partition, I knew everything was going to be okay.

The lead me right to your Mom's side, and I sat down next to her and started playing with her hair.

Your Mom started complaining that her oxygen flowing in from her mask smelled funny. The anesthesiologist motioned to me that it wasn't her oxygen mask at all making the smell. So, I covered and told your Mom that the smell was in fact, me. But, truthfully, that smell was them cutting through your Mom's tissue with the cauterizer flame thrower thing making the final incisions.

Your Mom and I chatted some nebulous drugged-up pillow talk, and I encouraged her as the doctors tinkered away.

Within moments the anesthesiologist said, "Dad, get your camera ready, get ready, because here he comes."

I stood up, away from your Mother's side and peered over the partition, I don't recall seeing any blood or entrails or anything, all I remember was seeing your purple, hairy head being lifted from your Mom's body.

I snapped a picture.

The nurse told me to take a picture of the time, for that was the time you were born.

And then they took you away to get your lungs cleaned out, get your body cleaned off and weigh you.

The second your Mom heard your voice, your cry, she started crying too. I was in awe. We both were so happy that you were here, that finally, after all this time, we'd finally be able to meet our son,

Aidan Powell Weinstein!

Your Mom was so relieved, and I kept peaking around the partition to get a glimpse at you. Finally, they called my name: "Daddy, come over here and meet your son!"

They didn't need to ask me twice. I walked over to the baby cleaning station to meet you. You were pretty upset at being removed from such a nice, warm belly and were a bit traumatized from the hour and a half of labor (you had a boo-boo on your head from the hour of bone on bone pushing), you kind of looked like a purple, angry old man.

You screamed bloody murder. You had a decent coat of hair. You did a dead-on Yoda impersonation:

And you were beautiful, and perfect, and all we could have ever dreamed for.

You held my hand.

I'm a Daddy now.

Finally, they let you meet your Mommy. She was so glad to see you and started talking to you immediately. She says that you recognized our voices, because once we started talking, you calmed down. I sang our lullaby a little, your Mom (still heavily medicated) told you to not worry, because "Mommy's cross-eyed too" (you were cross eyed because babies- especially 3 minute old ones- can't focus their eyes).

It was among the sweetest moments I've ever felt. The three of us sat there as they sewed your Mom back together again. Our first moments as a family. And since I'm a Dad now, I documented part of the moment on video:

"I know, it was tough for Mommy too. But we did it. We did it."

Did it, you guys did. Soon enough they had finished your Mom's surgery and the three of us could go back to room 7, as a family: Aaron, Holly and Aidan.

Your Mom seemed to radiate happiness as she got to hold you in her arms and just look at your for the first time.

And you seemed to know us before, as if we'd met already.

Although there was never really anything to worry about, we all breathed a sigh of relief.

We were all there safe and sound, sound and safe. You had ten fingers and ten toes, two ears, two eyes and a nose. Your mother's lips, my sideburns, and maybe my eyes.

Your eyes were almost cobalt blue, though they may not stay.

Your head was a bit of a cone, though it's already back to being nice and round.

Your ears were a bit flattened from the trauma, though their perking up.

You have your mother's chin and eyebrows.

And you might have my nose, though that doesn't go away without surgery.

Still to this day, we don't know quite who you look like. I think that's because you look exactly like yourself, Aidan.

That evening you got to meet lots of cool people too: Nannah and Baba, Aunt Sham, Mimi and Pops. And as the days rolled on, you met tons of other people too: your unofficial aunts and uncles, your real uncle, your Godparents, your Great Grandma and unofficial Great Great Grandma.

But for that night, even though you had to go to the nursery for two hours to get nice and warmed up, it felt like you, me and your Mother were the only ones in the universe. You were no longer a fraction; our immediate family was now 3 (plus 2 dogs). You are our son, and we are your parents. This journal is no longer a pregnancy journal, but now a baby diary...a diary about you, Aidan, and how you've changed all of our lives for the better.

We have a lot to learn. It will be very exciting.

Welcome to the world, Aidan Powell Weinstein! Born on February 27, 2010 at 5:51 pm. 7 lbs, 1 ounce. 20 inches tall. Welcome to the world!

I hear you crying. I'm going to go hold you now!

It's Week 36, and you've got class!

Wow. It's week 36 already! That's the beginning of your ninth month! Just about 4 weeks to go, but theoretically, you could come as early as next Saturday and be considered full term!

But we're keeping our fingers (and legs) crossed for a March debut! But, if you come in February, we won't think you're any less cool!

We celebrated the beginning of your Ninth month in a classroom in the basement of the hospital in which you'll be born.

It sounds boring, I know. But it was anything but boring!

Your mother and I learned so many cool things about labor and pain management and delivery and what happens next!

There's a lot to learn here, dude!

Your mom and I learned some breathing techniques to promote calm (but none of the hee-hee-hee-hooooooo lamaze stuff you see in the movies), I was taught a couple very simple massage techniques (one using a pool noodle) to help your Mom's back, your Mom learned a couple stretches and exercises to help lull you into the right position and loosen her hips. We learned about the magical uterus!

We learned all about different ways to cope with the pain, fear and anxiety about labor. There are tons of things the partner (me) can do to help your Mom work through early labor before we get to the hospital.

Apparently joke-telling isn't one of them.

The teacher had all the women in the class put a clothes pin on the most-sensitive part of their ear and keep it there for one minute. The partners weren't allowed to interact with them at all. The clothes pins stayed on for one minute.


Then we tried the experiment again, but this time, the partners could interact. So we held hands, I played with her hair, did some shoulder massage and told some really awesome jokes.

Your Mom initially thought that she preferred the version Without me! Because, apparently, I was annoying. But, then she learned that the second clothes-pin-on-ear segment lasted for TWO minutes! And she thought it had gone by as fast- if not faster- as the first one.

Turns out I'm not completely useless (much to our collective dismay!).

But, I learned a lot of obvious things too: don't argue with Holly during labor; don't tell her to do things she's already doing (breathe!); don't ask her stupid questions (apparently there are such things!), and don't tell jokes just because I'm nervous. But, I can still be funny if the moment calls for it. I think it was foolish to leave it up to me to determine when that moment may be!
We learned alot about Drugs. Most of our lives they teach us to "Just Say No" to Drugs. But for pregnant women, there are several options to help manage the pain of labor. One is a Narcotic (called an Analgesic) one is an Epidural (which sends pain medicine directly into an area in the spinal column). Before this class your Mom was thinking of being completely drugged up the entire time. She was operating under the axiom that, with today's technology, a woman doesn't need to feel any pain in the labor and delivery.
And that's true! The epidural can be administered so well that the Mother can't even feel contractions. She has to put her hands on her belly to physically feel for them to know when to push!
After seeing these videos and learning more about the options, your Mom has changed her mind. She wants to try to go as long as possible without the drugs. In effect, she wants to feel some of the pain! But, when she's no longer satisfied with her ability to cope, she'll get the druggy druggy drugs.
But her philosophy on the pain management has changed. Your Mom's idea is that a woman shouldn't have to feel any pain that she doesn't want to feel!

At the end of the class, we got on a tour of the facility to see where you will actually be born! We saw the Labor and Delivery rooms (we're definitely requesting one with a jacuzzi in it!) and our Private Room where you, me and your Mom will stay for about 48 hours after your birth.
We also got to peek into the nursery and see two newborn baby girls. They were under an hour or so old, and way bigger than I thought they'd be. Or way bigger than I thought you will be! It's still amazing that a creature that size is inside your Mom's womb right now!
It's even more amazing to think in about 4 weeks we will all be back at that hospital, in those rooms and finally, you will be here!
I watched a little animation at the end of this blog that shows how much you've grown (from a poppyseed or smaller to a watermelon). I must admit, though I didn't cry or get teary eyed, I knew at that moment that when you arrive, I'm most likely going to cry. This was re-confirmed for me while we were sitting in the Private Post-Birth Recovery room where the new family of three will be reunited for the first time. I daydreamed about you, me and your Mom sitting there together. And I knew, again, that I'm going to be so happy to see you, to finally meet you, that -yup-there will be some old fashioned waterworks going on.
But, hopefully I don't cry like a baby. Because, at that point, you'll officially be a baby- instead of a fetus- and crying like one will officially be your job!
Oh, and for the record, I didn't last for 15 seconds with the clothes pin on my ear.