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!

The End, The Beginning: Part I

Sorry to keep you waiting; but I just changed a dirty dirty diaper and now have a brief moment to tell you the rest of the story of your birth!

Your Mom contracted regularly throughout the wee hours of the morning. She was such a pro: no tears, no screaming, great breathing.

By 4 am your Mom was 4 centimeters dilated.

By 5 am your Mom was 5 centimeters dilated.

By 5 am your Mom was SOOOOO tired that she decided to get the epidural.

With the epidural administered by 5:10 am, your Mom felt "so much better" (She told me as a huge smile grew across her face). The labor would continue, but your Mom wouldn't feel the contractions.

Around 5:15 they wheeled in a cot for me to sleep on, and your Mom and I all decided to get a little sleep. I told you that I would get to SEE you in the morning! I wrote this in my BatJournal (yes, it's a journal I keep that came with the Dark Knight DVD):

"It's 5:15, and we are going to catch a little shut eye now. We will actually get to SEE you in the morning. As your mother dozes off to sleep, I'm in awe of what she's done and I can't wait to see what she'll do next."

At 8:30 in the morning we woke up and your mom was 6 cm dilated.

At 10:30, your Nannah came up and brought me two bagels to eat. Nannah stayed with us for the rest of the time.

At 11:30, they gave your mom a drug called Ptosin to help get you down into position.

At 12:43 the nurse returned from lunch and confirmed that your Mom's water had broken!

At 12:45 she confirmed that your Mom was 9 cm dilated and that your head was on her cervix. She estimated that you'd be here by 2:30!

I wrote: "HIGH FIVE! Holly is Smiling Big! You Dropped!"

At 1:02, your Mom reported feelings of pushing downward between her legs. Contractions push the feeling lower and lower.

At 1:35, Mimi and Pops arrive. Holly is given more epidural. There is no relation between these two events.

At 2:14, Your Mom dozes off. She can't keep her eyes open, but is in pain.

At 2:25, an anesthesiologist gives your Mom a drug that makes it feel like a cold trickle down her spine, numbing the spine pain. The nurse tells us that she's not even thinking of starting pushing for an hour.

At around 3:00, Mimi and Pops and Aunt Sham visit us in the Labor and Delivery Room. Aunt Shamsy brought your Mom flowers!

Then your Uncle Joe comes in too. But, he's quickly rushed out because at...

At 3:26 pm the Nurse says "Let's Push Out a Baby! It's Go time!"

Very exciting, and famous last words. After an hour and a half of hard, wonderful pushing and your Mom nearly popped her eyeballs out of her sockets, you had progressed to two clicks below crowning. You were sunny side up (meaning face up), making things a little bit more difficult, since babies are supposed to be born face down. But your Mom still pushed like an ace, your Nannah and I holding her legs and coaching her through it. I only got yelled at once, Hollywood style.

The nurse kept telling your Mom to bring her chin to her chest, and your Mom kept not doing that. So in between counting and cheering and encouraging I would say "Chin, Chin, Chin, 4, 5, 6, Chin, Chin, Chin."

After about 20 minutes of that, between painful contractions, your Mom looked at me and said:

"DON'T SAY CHIN!"

But anyway, after an hour and a half of pushing, and ups and downs of being told that the nurse didn't think this was going to happen and that she DID think it was going to happen vaginally, she called in Dr. Bertrand (Dr. Hagood wasn't on call; Dr. Bertrand is super awesome).

Dr. Bertrand took a quick assessment, saw the bruising and swelling from all your Mom's pushing, touched your head and pushed you all the way back up into your Mom's belly with no effort. The pushing and labor wasn't getting us anywhere.

Dr. Bertand told us matter-of-factly: "look, you can push and push for 4 or 5 more hours and this baby might come out vaginally, and could cause damage to Mommy and Baby. We're doing a C-section."

So, around 5:00 the started prepping your Mom very quickly for the C-Section. And within minutes she was swept away into another room, and I was told to put this dorky outfit on and wait.

So I put it on...

And I waited... ready to dive into action

7,6,5,4,3,2,1 - Happy New Baby!

So, as it turns out, those Friday contractions were right on! I don't want to spoil this for you, but, you were born on February 27, 2010 at 5:51 pm in the evening! A full week ahead of your due date, but right on time-- because we just couldn't wait to meet you any longer.

It was a pretty interesting Friday evening and Saturday morning leading up to that big event though.

Your Mom and I were pretty convinced that the contractions would be slow and infrequent through the weekend, so we went ahead and had dinner and played games with your Godparents on Friday night.

All through dinner, your Mom had infrequent but pretty powerful contractions. But, when we asked her if we should go home, she said "No, they're not that bad." As it turns out, they WERE pretty serious, but your Mom really, really wanted to go to Pink Berry.

She enjoyed her fro-yo and then we retired back to Casa de Weinstein for some Boom Blox (that's a video game on this antique called a Nintendo Wii).

Around 9:00, your Mom decided that the contractions were getting close enough together to warrant doing some timing. At that point, I started a page in my journal keeping track of the contractions.

The rest of the evening and the next 20 hours or so went a bit like this:

Contractions at :

• 8:45
• 8:56
• 9:06
• 9:17
• 9:29
• 9:37
• 9:48
• 9:51
• 9:55
• 10:00
  

Etc, etc, etc...

As the contractions go closer and closer together, we started to realize that this was actually going to go down...and soon.

So your Mom managed her contractions while I became a whirling dervish and cleaned the kitchen, finished packing THE bag, getting pillows together and keeping a list of the contractions.

I also took the last known picture of your Mom pregnant with you in the wee hours of Saturday morning, making it officially the 39th week picture.


Not too shabby, considering that we started out like this, on week 8:

As February 26th turned into February 27, your Mom called the doctor to tell her what was happening. The doctor recommended that we stay at home as long as possible to be as comfortable as possible. We abided...and tried to hang on as long as possible.

So we tried to get some sleep. I blew up the air mattress and we turned out the lights. With each contraction, I'd turn on a flashlight, note the time and watch in awe as your Mom muscled through. This lasted for 2 contractions.

Then we decided to watch some TV, and coast through the contractions. This lasted for 2 contractions.

Concurrently, around midnight your Mom started rating the contractions with Tourrettes-like finesse :

12:33 was "BAD"
12:44 was "getting stronger"
12:59 was "Worse! JESUS!"
and 1:10 am was "Jimminy Christmas!"

At 1:24 am we left for the hospital. I hit every bump on the road accidentally. But, I drove safely and we got there safely, if not a little painfully.

At 2:18 am we were checked into triage unit and it was confirmed that she was dilated 3-4 centimeters.

I asked the nurse if we were admitted to the hospital. She said "Definitely."

So, off to Room 7 we went, where your Mom was hooked up to machinery and continued having stronger and stronger contractions, all without medicine, as per her wishes.

How does this story end? Well, we already know the beautiful end result.

But for the thrilling conclusion, you'll have to tune back in later.

To be continued...as we waited for you:

8: Celebrate (Almost)

Remind me some day to tell you about the day where your Mom had about 4 painful contractions before noon and then I thought today would be the day to celebrate, so I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off all day at work and then, as it turned out, after your Mom's regularly scheduled doctor's appointment, that she was still 1.5 cm dilated and 50% effaced.

Oh wait, that was today? Oh yeah, it was!

But, alas, it doesn't look like today is the day!

But, you could be here any day now! We're officially on Baby Watch: 2010!

She's just having another contraction as I write this!

9. Earth: A Precusor

In honor of the fact that in week 38 of the pregnancy, you only have NINE days left until your due date, I wanted to let you know of 9 things that I really think you'll like about being a human being on earth.

9. Smelling Smells- The nose knows, and as you know, when a nose is heightened - like your mother's was- or deadend -like mine was- things are just kinda out of whack. But there's nothing better than smelling pancakes cooking in the morning, or the smell of freshly cut grass, or popcorn at the movies. Although there are some bad smells which, lets face it, you'll probably produce quite a few of as a baby, smelling is pretty much where it's at.

8. Colors- You probably haven't seen much of any colors, since color needs light and there's no light in the belly except when I shined a flashlight on you (sorry about that!) I'm particularly fond of blue and green. Your Mom like purple and blue. What are your favorite colors going to be?

7. Breathing- I simply can't say enough about breathing air. When you're not doing it, you tend to miss it quite quickly. It's pretty awesome.

6. The sky- I know that your Mom's ribs are about the limit of where you can go upwards now. But, we have a saying here on earth: "the sky's the limit." It's that big bluish grayish thing up above us and it often contains clouds, birds, and celestial bodies. Lots of people want to go up in the sky, but even when you're up in it in an airplane, there's still more sky above you. I really think you'll like the sky.


5. Grandparents - You're a pretty lucky guy! You're gonna have all four grandparents in close proximity. AND you have a set of great grandparents too. From what I know, Grandparents are pretty awesome: they get you stuff, change your diapers, babysit with no notice and generally love everything you do...even if it's smelly. You're going to like your Nannah, Baba, Mimi and Pops. And your Great Grandma and Great Grandpa too! And, on top of Grandparents, you have tons of Aunts and Uncles too!


4. Dogs (and other, minor animals)- What's better than having 4 grandparents? Having 2 dogs! That's an old saying we have here on earth as well. But you're so lucky that you have both! Dogs are kinda smelly, kinda annoying and they make really good lap warmers. They love to play outside and love to sleep all day. Preston and Toby have been very curious about what's growing in your Mom's belly, and I think they'll be really surprised when you come out. But, we know that they'll love you..especially once you start leaving crumbs for them to eat everywhere!


3. Making noise- In space no one can hear you scream. That's a saying we have on earth about that thing above the sky (space). It's kind of true for you too: where you are no one CAN hear you make noise at all. Probably because you can't make noise yet! But the second you come out, you're gonna really get to test your vocal chords and cry, and scream and eventually giggle and gurgle and talk! I really like making noise, much to your Mother's chagrin, especially early in the morning.

2. Food- Now, for a long while you're not going to get to eat grown up food. All you're going to hopefully get is breast milk, and if that doesn't work out then Formula. I'm not sure how good any of those things taste, but I got to imagine they're better than being fed intravenously through a weird cord sticking out of your belly button. That's a bit too Matrix-y for me. Eventually though, you're gonna get to eat all sorts of things: bread, cookies, spaghetti, pizza, apples, grapes, bananas, water, noodles. Food is right up there with my favorite things in the world.

1. Parents- Okay, so this is the power of positive thinking. I'm sure there will be times when you won't be too happy with us, like on Shot day or when we ground you for God-knows-what. But, just so you know, whether you're mad at us or not, we're the two people on this planet who have pretty much been assigned to be your guides and show you around, let you kick the tires and eventually help you find your own little piece of Earth that's all yours. But up until that day, we're gonna be there for you. It's pretty sweet: we're human beings, like you, but we're bigger and have really big arms that are perfect for holding you and rocking you and bathing you. We have really big heads and mouths that we can use to make faces at you and talk to you and teach you things about stuff (since we KNOW you're going to like stuff!). We have cars, and those will come in handy to get you places. Plus, we already have this really awesome thing for you called unconditional love...and we can't wait for you to come and meet you so we can show what that one's all about!


So, there's kind of a crash course on life on earth. It's pretty cool and, in 9 days (give or take a few), you're going to get to see it for yourself! And we can't WAIT for you to get that opportunity!

10: Play Bow

Only 10 days until your due date!

And with 10 days until your big debut, you're already taking a big bow!

Last night while we were thinking about going to bed, but still sitting on the couch just talking about how we couldn't believe that you'd be here in about 10 days and just scratching our heads in awe of this whole situation and the new adventure we're about to embark upon, you decided to do a bit of redecorating.

All of a sudden, your mom's semi-spherical stomach started rolling and growing in weird areas and then, boom, you were done moving. Your mom's tummy looked more like a loaf of bread- a solid rectangular misshapen mass type thing.



We finally figured out that the protrusion was none other than your tushy, sticking high up near your Mom's ribs. But, unlike most of your bizarre movements like that, this one remained put until your Mom decided to lay down. We're talking like over 5 minutes here. What were you doing with your butt high in the air?

When dogs do this, it's called a Play Bow.

When babies do this, I'm not too sure what it's called. Maybe you were just trying to get a new perspective on things, maybe you were just stretching your leg muscles, maybe it was your head and you're trying to tunnel out. Who knows?

But it sure was interesting to see and feel.

Don't worry, buddy, soon enough the pregnancy will finally be over and you can take a real bow out here in the real world...even if you want to bow with your tush high in the sky.

Some Strong Words For You

Last night when I was doing some research on the internet, I came across a parenting study that I'd never heard of.

Check it out: "Twin studies show that language development is as much as 50 percent genetic, yet researchers say that the single biggest determinant in a child's language acquisition is exposure to language. Infants who have more early language exposure score higher in IQ tests, perform better academically and are more socially competent. Apparently, every word counts. According to a study done by Dr. Betty Hart and Dr. Todd Ridley, babies who heard an average of 2,100 words per hour scored higher on standardized tests at age 3 than did children whose parents hadn't been as verbal."

So we don't really care about test scores or anything like that, nor are we even looking forward 3 years or even to your first spoken words. We just want you to be a healthy kiddo. And basically the study says that the more a baby is spoken to directly, the better his or her neural development will be. That can include vocabulary later on, but it's just good for the wiring up front. And, really, I just want an excuse to tell you EVERYTHING!

The study recommends that a baby have 30,000 words spoken to them every day!


That sounds like an awful lot, but when you come out, we're gonna have no problem talking to you! And anyway, that's only 20 words per minute. But, of course we can't talk to you 24 hours a day.

I tried doing this once to your mother and she did not approve.


At any rate though, even though we talk to you some while you're in the belly, and sing to you as well, expect to have your ears chewed off (not literally, of course; we don't own a dingo).

If there's one thing your Dad is good at, it's talking. I can talk so well that I even talk in my sleep!

Your Mom and I are going to read to you, narrate what's going on to you and just tell you everything about the world.

It'll be a one sided conversation at first, well, at least on the verbal front. But it will be so much fun just to chat with you face to face.

In no more that 18 days (and more likely somewhere around 11 days), we'll be able to have our first tete a tete, and I can hardly wait.

I hope you like hearing me and your Mom talk, because you're about to get an earful of about 30,000 words a day! (and don't worry, because I can do 30,000 in my sleep!)