Right on Time!

Please welcome Finley Ella Dickey! The punctual pint-sized peanut made her arrival at 12:22 am on Sunday, March 11th. The day she was due! And I'm here to tell you, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!

To follow the last blog, the Pitocin kicked in and made things roll pretty quickly. Heather, who is a true champ, pushed for maybe half an hour before our little girl took her first gasps. Baby and mama are both in great shape. No complications, no problems, just a healthy baby girl.

Stats: 7 pounds, 6 ounces and 19 1/4 inches long. Lots of dark brown hair, like dad and mama's nose and lips. She looks a LOT like her mama, thank God!

Big thanks to EVERYONE who wished us well, helped us out and just plain made this whole experience the best moment of our lives. Now we can sleep! Well, for one night anyway. More tomorrow!

Showtime!

A lot can happen in a span of a few hours when you're waiting for an angel to show up! I'm writing to you from room Blue 2-172 at Evergreen Hospital in Kirkland. Heather is resting, finally, and hopefully about to get a bit of sleep before the big push to come. The nurses and staff are absolutely fantastic and we have our own little room at the end of the hallway, right next to the waiting area and "nourishment room." The soft sounds of a newborn boy can be heard from down the hall, but other than that, all is quiet. And all is well. So, how did we get here? Well, I'll tell you.

Around 5pm, Heather had one of the worst contractions of the day. The back labor she was experiencing was getting more painful, yet the contractions were too far apart to get us to the hospital. So, we were in a real rough place. I didn't want her to keep suffering, but there was not much we could do. Then her water broke. It was literally the break we needed.

We called the hospital and they told us to come in to make sure that was the case. Within the hour we were checked in and meeting the staff. Boriana, our Bulgarian nurse is fantastic and helped Heather through a couple of contractions. Unfortunately, the pain was just too intense for her to cope with, so around 10:30pm she got an epidural. It's a spinal block that numbs her from the waist down.

Now she can rest and I was about to say maybe get some sleep... But less than an hour ago, they gave her Pitocin, which speeds up dialtion and she is at 9cm of dialation.... Birth is at 10cm. Needless to say, it's time to go! Here's hoping Finley joins me for the next blog!

...and waiting...

Saturday afternoon. I’d like to say things are getting better, but they’re not. Not that they’re getting worse. Heather may argue that point, though. We thought things were on the fast track around 1pm, when we went for a walk. This seemed to alleviate some pain for her and the contractions began to start coming at a more regular rate, averaging every five minutes. The key, from the hospital point of view, is to have consistent contractions. That means five minutes apart and lasting for one minute for a whole hour.

We were real close to that at 2pm, so Heather called the hospital. After speaking with a nurse, it was decided to wait a bit more to where they are much more consistent. Unfortunately, after the call, the contractions have become more spread out… about ten minutes apart. The duration stays between one minute and one-fifteen, but the intensity of the pain has not lessened.

Needless to say, Heather is my hero. She’s being a real trooper and has a good handle on some of the coping techniques. But it is very difficult to watch her go through the pain. So, now we’re just waiting for the contractions to be a little more consistent. Hopefully things will get moving and we can get this over with. Otherwise we’re in for a long night.

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

Saturday morning and we're just playing the waiting game. The contractions are definitely more intense, but are inconsistent, time-wise. We had long night… the first of many, of course… as Heather averaged 2-3 per hour.

Unfortunately, as the intensity grows the pain has actually moved from being focused in the stomach/uterus area to her lower back area. After consulting our library of baby books, there could be a couple of reasons for such intense back pain. The most obvious reason is that as the baby moves lower in the pelvis, there is pressure as she begins to squeeze through that area. The other reason (And according to Heather’s doctor, this may be the case) is that the baby has not yet rotated to face the correct direction. Basically, it is ideal for the baby to be born face-down. Most babies start the other way then turn during the birthing process, but if they don’t turn right away, the hard part of the back of the head presses on mama’s lower back straining the joints and causing pain in the entire lower back area. Here’s a diagram. It’ called the occiput posterior or OP position.

Heather has had a bunch of these "back labor" pains throughout the night and into this morning and it breaks my heart to see her in such pain. BUT, even as I’m writing this, the contractions are less intense, especially on her back. This may be due to the fact that we have been trying some coping positions and she’s been up and walking to try to help the baby along. It seems to be working.

What’s next? Well, all we can do is help her cope with our balance ball and other positions our birthing class and books have taught us. At this point, there are really only two things that get us to the hospital. One is if and when her water breaks and the other is when the contractions become five or less minutes apart and last at least a minute in duration. Unless Finley decides to kick it into high gear, we could be in for a long day. Stay tuned for more!

It's a Contraction

It's Friday morning and we had a real interesting night, last night. Around midnight Heather had her first "real" contraction which raised the alert level from yellow to muave. She had probably about 1-2 per hour, which is not much at this point, but we are definitely in the pre-labor stage.

Fortunately, she had a appointment with her doctor already scheduled for this morning. The doc says baby and mama are in great shape and that Finley has moved into -1 station (see the first blog) and dialation is at 3cm. The doctor also said she would be surprised if we didn't come in this weekend and have a baby.

So, our little girl is on schedule and on time... a trait she gets from her mother. I'll be trying to keep this blog up to date as much as I can with as much information as I can.

My guess is that Finley will make her appearance either Saturday night or Sunday morning.

Keep checking back!

The Advice Column

Less than a week till the due date and it’s hard not to think about how much our lives will change after Finley arrives. Everyone we know who has kids, has relatives with kids or once saw a kid gives us lots of advice. Advice and stories. Most of them deal with how much sleep we’re not going to get. THAT part is pretty understandable. But I also know there are other things that are difficult, if not impossible to describe. Things for which there really is no advice.

What will it be like when I first see her? How am I supposed to react? What I’m going to say? I have all these thoughts in my head, like I’m about to go on a first date (Not that I go on dates, dear). I find myself thinking about these things. It’s not like I’m going to shake her hand and introduce myself, “Hi. I’m Randy, but you can call me Daddy.” My wife is certain I will cry, which is probably what will happen. But how will I FEEL? What will it be like to know there is someone so small and so fragile depending on me? What will it be like to hold this little person that we made, together? And what will go through my mind when her eyes meet mine for the first time?

Then I remember that this is the beauty of the whole process. I absolutely don’t know. And that’s how it’s supposed to be. Whatever it is that I am about to feel, I know that love will be biggest part of it. Love for my new baby and love for my wife who will be going through this entire life-changing experience from a whole different point of view. Sure, this is going to be quite an amazing event for me. That’s pretty obvious. But I can only begin to imagine what Heather is about to go through.

As wonderful as the whole pregnancy process has been, it sure is unfair in many ways. And I’m not just talking about the pain of birth, here. I’m talking about pregnancy as a whole. It’s interesting that how, in our society, we place so much emphasis on all the discomfort in pregnancy; Morning sickness, stretch marks, rearranged organs and many things that most women don’t want to discuss. But what about the good stuff? Well, good from my point of view, anyway.

My wife calls me over, from time to time, to feel the baby move. This little, crouched gymnast likes to work on her floor routine, particularly in the evenings. Tiny elbows and feet glide under my wife’s belly and I wonder what that must feel like. What is it like to not only create a life, but keep it in inside you as it grows? I have to think the pure amazement must outweigh the discomfort. Of course, I don’t pretend to speak for my wife in these matters.

Then there is the birth, itself. For the sake of my wonderment, let’s forget about the pain and think about what is actually happening. A life is being born. A very small person is leaving a perfectly warm and comfortable water bubble, is pushed out into a cold, bright world and has to start using these things called lungs. Sounds kind of scary, but humans have been doing this for a few years, so I think we’ll be okay. And I can’t help to feel that the fact that Heather is literally giving life makes me just a bit jealous. Not that I would trade places, but what a great gift to have. Probably the greatest gift of all. No wonder the dad on all those Learning Channel shows looks so helpless. There’s not much he can do, except be there for her. And from what I’ve seen, heard and read, that’s a pretty important role.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the first person to ever go through this. And no matter how much advice I get or how many Learning Channel shows we watch, it feels like I’m charting some undiscovered country. In many ways I am. This is new stuff for me. This is new stuff for Heather. And that’s what all the advice is about. It’s about all the friends and family we have, who have gone through this, sharing their experiences and letting us know that we’re not alone. That it doesn’t have to be so scary. That we have support. In the long run, I guess we just have soak up every moment for what it is. That way, when it’s our turn, we’ll be the ones to give the advice.

The Test Run

So, now that we’re awaiting the arrival of our little girl, something else decided to show up. Something that we weren’t exactly expecting or wanting. It was Saturday evening when Heather started feeling a bit nauseous and by Sunday she was in the throes of a full on late-winter cold. Colds are never any fun no matter when you get them, but when you’re nine-and-a-half months pregnant, it is downright unfair. It’s not just that the mommy is coughing and sneezing with a nose full of gunk, but she can’t take any medicine. Well, not much, anyway. Tylenol isn’t going to do much for a fit of coughing that hurts ribs already sore from a small human growing inside of her. So mommy has to just suck it up and blow it out. We need more Kleenex.

Being the stubborn… scratch that… Being the strong woman Heather is, she cowgirled up and went to work on Monday, promising me she would only work half a day. Three-quarters of a day later, in slumps my sick wife. Now, here is where I step in as the man of the house and put my foot down. “You’re not going in to work tomorrow,” I say, practicing my dad voice. “Ya think?” she answers, in a perfectly formed 13-year old daughter’s tone, obviously preparing me for the years to come.

Somewhere around 3:00 am, between cough number 1,542 and cough number 1,543 I realize that this whole sickness is a test run. We wake up every two hours. One of us gets up. There is Kleenex everywhere. We both try to go back to sleep. The following day is a sleep-deprived walk through a fog. Practice. Except for my wife’s stuffed noggin and aching throat, we’re doing a dry run for Finley. But something tells me this is only the tip of the iceberg. Actually, EVERYBODY tells me this is only the tip of the iceberg.

Heather goes back for three-quarters of a day on Wednesday, because she “has to.” Wednesday night is another rehearsal and Heather hits the peak of the cold. Although she wisely stays home Thursday and gets a doctor’s okay to take Tussin, it is then I discover the danger of The Learning Channel. Midway through my work day, I get an email. “We are going to be hopeless.” These words of encouragement come from my rock, my anchor, my medicine-headed wife who has been watching a pair of shows called “A Baby Story” and “Bringing Home Baby.” Needless to say, when I get home, I can’t tell if the tissues are for her cold or from all the crying she’s done. We need more Kleenex.

If you’ve never seen these programs, they are as real as reality gets. They’re basically video diaries, following couples as they go through the process of birth and the first few days back home. On the bright side, you get to see what it’s going to be like. On the other hand, you get to see what it’s going to be like. It all kind of blends together for me into eight distinct phases:

1. Mom goes into labor, spends a lot of time making groaning noises and holding onto doorways while dad either lightly rubs her back or keeps a fist-swinging distance while asking if she needs anything.
2. Mom is in the hospital, taking instructions from a nurse or midwife, while dad either lightly rubs her back or keeps a fist-swinging distance while asking if she needs anything.
3. Mom and dad cry as they see their child for the first time.
4. Dad struggles to get the infant into the car’s baby seat, while mom looks at him like “I just passed a person through my body and you can’t even work a safety belt.”
5. Mom and dad sit in awe looking at their baby.
6. Mom and dad sit in awe looking at their baby’s poop.
7. Mom and dad don’t get any sleep.
8. Mom and dad couldn’t be happier.

All of which turns Heather into a wreck. Between the frightening scenes of labor and the amazing cuteness of newborns, I find myself lightly rubbing her back and keeping a fist-swinging distance while asking if she needs anything. Sure, it’s scary. She’s about to go through something incredibly traumatic. But there is a light at the end of that tunnel of pain. It’s a little girl who will bring us more joy than we could ever imagine. Besides, between all the colds and tears of joy to come, all we need is more Kleenex.