Being There

It's just over 24 hours since the birth of my daughter and I'm running on a cross between sleep deprivation, caffeinated beverages and pure joy. Mama and baby are sleeping soundly and I find myself a bit hyper, so I'll jot some thoughts down to get me to fall asleep. The past few days' blogs are a bit rushed, and I'm sure you understand why, so I'll try to fill in some gaps.

The curtain rose on our little symphony at about midnight on Thursday. Heather had been having a few Braxton-Hicks or "practice" contractions earlier in the evening and I joked, like I always do, that "THIS IS THE BIG ONE!" Then she'd shoot me that look. The one I know so well. It's how she says "you're and idiot" without opening her mouth. I think most husbands know it. After a few of the practice contractions you don't think much, because, well, they're practice. As we're getting into bed for the evening, she suddenly grabbed the side of the bed and shot me a new look. This one was definitely not "you're an idiot." This one was part terror, part pain and part "THIS IS NOT A DRILL!" Now, if you've been reading the blog, you know I wrote about wondering what it all would be like when it happens. How would I react? What would I say? And I had been hoping to come up with some eloquent or profound statement about the impending arrival of my daughter. So, what did I do? I threw up. Yep. Daddy hurled. It was something about the look Heather gave me. Something about the "this is really happening" vibe in the air. I thought it might have been something about the Mexican dinner we had, but it was just good ol' nerves.

I figured it was because all this time I had been so proud to play the strong one, the knowledgeable one. The daddy. But when it came down to it, I was just as scared as the next person. And that's okay. Besides, as I was about to find out, no person is stronger than my wife was for the next 48 hours.

After my quick trip to the washroom and a giggle between us, Heather and I attempted to get the last rest we would probably get... ever. She had some smaller contractions as the night progressed. Nothing too major.

That morning, we got up and Heather went to her already-scheduled doctor appointment. Doctor Tsang (pronounced "Jung"), is a very small, to-the-point Chinese woman who told Heather that she was 3cm dilated and would be surprised if we didn’t have a baby over the weekend. So, what did Heather do? She went to work. That's right. It was her last day before her leave, anyway, so she needed to tidy things up at work. Contractions and all. I think she's crazy. But then again, she married me.

Friday evening progressed with a few contractions and me finishing packing my bags. Heather, on the other hand, had been packed for almost two weeks. She's VERY organized, as many of you know. She likes to make a schedule and stick to it. So does her daughter, as we were about to find out. That night's sleep was decent. A few contractions here and there, until about 3am. That's when I awoke to the sound of my wife whimpering and the sight of her on all fours, clutching at her back. This was the first of FOUR heartbreaking moments I would experience.

I have had my share of back pain and those of you who know what it's like know that it is excruciating. It's the only pain I have ever had that has driven me to my knees, crying. My wife was now experiencing the exact same thing. And in a few hours she would be experiencing it almost every five minutes.

In the birthing class you learn about "breathing." About cleansing breaths and short, sharp pain-buffering breaths. It's really about focusing. Letting yourself relax around the pain and getting through it. My job was to keep her focused. To remind her to breathe and encourage her. And it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to go through.

So that was Saturday. Every five to ten minutes Heather would get a contraction that would last between a minute and a minute and a half. And I would do my best to help her through it. Unfortunately, she was suffering pain in her back and not really feeling anything in her stomach/uterus area. At first we thought it was because the baby might be facing the wrong way and the back of her head was pressing against Heather's tailbone. But we would find out it was for a different, and in the long run, better reason.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, the contractions weren't consistent enough to get us to the hospital. Then her water broke. We zipped to Evergreen and got set up with our Bulgarian nurse, Boriana. She was very attentive and helpful and worked with Heather to try to alleviate the pain. It was just too much. At about 10pm Saturday night Heather leaned to me and said she just couldn't take it, anymore. Then came heartbreaking moment number 2. With tear-filled eyes she said, "I'm sorry." Are you kidding me? What did she have to feel sorry about?

Heather wanted to go as far as she could without medication and I was behind her 100%. But I also wanted her to be as comfortable as possible and what she had been going through for nearly 13 hours was far from that. She had done her time in labor. She deserved some relief.

The epidural came at 10:30pm and she finally began to relax. This also allowed Boriana a better chance to find out how the baby was doing. It turned out that our little girl wasn't facing the wrong way. The reason Heather was in so much back pain was because Finley had actually worked her way down inside the birth canal. In fact, she was ready to be born. We were just waiting on the dilation. It also turns out that her water had probably broke much earlier than when we noticed. It's just that her head was so far in place, that it acted like a cork and didn't let any of the fluid out.

Once they determined that Finley was close, they hooked Heather up to Pitocin. This is a birth-inducing drug that helps speed up dilation. And boy, did it. When Heather got the epidural she was dilated at 5cm. Within an hour of getting Pitocin, she was at 9cm and ready to go.

And that's when the show started. In came the extra nurses, the lights and the machine that goes "bing." And in came Dr. Tsang, the conductor, all dressed and ready to go.

There are many reasons why I was glad to be there, but one I didn't expect was to play translator for Heather. Heather's contractions were now become pushes and it all had to be choreographed. The doctor had to keep track of everything and relay that info to the main nurse who would tell Heather what she needed to do. Not too complicated, right? Remember, the doctor is Chinese and the main nurse is Bulgarian. In a feat of translation not seen since Versailles, I was able to coach Heather through the next thirty minutes and heartbreaking moment number three.

This is when my wife became my hero. Finley's middle name is Ella, which is in honor of my Grandmother who was really the only grandparent I ever knew. Once, when I was little, I asked her what it was like to have a baby. She said it was "like crapping a watermelon." Now you know where I get my sense of humor. I don't pretend to guess what it was like for Heather in that thirty minute time frame. I don't want to know. But after all the back pain and all the mental and physical stress, she somehow found a way to push that baby out. Grandma Ella would be proud.

At 12:22am, on March 11, 2007, Finley Ella Dickey entered our world. Technically, she was ready to go a few minutes before midnight, which means, like her mama, she stuck to her schedule. My friends, this was heartbreaking moment number four. And you dads out there know what I mean. I saw my daughter being born. I watched as she took her first breath. And I held her as her little cloudy eyes looked up at me. What was that first thought that I had been waiting for? One word: Beautiful. I think I had been wondering so much about what it was going to be like and what it was going to feel like, that I didn't realize what she would look like. She looks like every dream I ever had that I wanted to come true. She looks like the greatest story I've ever written. She looks like perfection.

And now, 24 hours later, as I hear her gurgles and whimpers I wonder some new things. I wonder what she's going to be when she grows up. I wonder how I could ever love anything or anyone more than my wife and my baby. And without being too political, I wonder how we could get the world leaders to watch a birth every once in awhile. I can't see how you could go through this and want to ever hurt another soul. I guess from my point of view, we all need a few heartbreaking moments now and then, to keep us human.