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Hello folks, Dad here. On top of all the excitement that comes with the arrival of a little one, I've been working in the background to get this here bloggy thing off the ground.
We figured this would be a good way to get some pictures and info about little Zoë out there as well as offer a place for friends and family to interact with us.
Without further ado...
On Sunday, March 29th, at around 1 am, Jen started feeling a bit sick. For quite some time she figured it was just dinner not settling well with her. As luck would have it, it was the proverbial "dark and stormy night". I somehow knew once I heard the storm kicking up that now was the time.
About 2:45 she came back into the bedroom and let me know it was time to go. We bustled about the place, gathering up every little item we could think of, grabbed Grandma Toni and headed out to the hospital.
Within minutes of arriving, it was clear that this was going to be it. Her water had broken, and the nurse on duty had to contend with a constant stream of amniotic fluid while she checked cervical dilation and ran the vitals.
At 3 am she was 3 cm and the nurse informed us we were here to stay. I hopped on the phone and called my sister Lara, as she was one of our designates for attending the birth.
Lara arrived just as Jen was being wheeled to the labor room. This was essentially a room with a bed for women to thrash about on while they cursed their male counterparts for the unholy pain that had been unleashed. Luckily, I managed to avoid these attacks, and these arrows were lobbed at others.
As it is wont to do in childbirth, Jen's levels of suffering continued to increase throughout the process. Of course, me being the ever compassionate and attentive person that I am, I used this opportunity to express my heartfelt sympathy for her agony. In fact, if anything, all I could think of was food and how much I craved a sub. (Truth be told, I don't recall what I was doing here. I think it involved miming a camera.)
Jen's contractions really kicked into swing around 5 am. By 10 she was spewing pea soup at anybody who dared enter the room. It wasn't until the anesthesiologist entered the room with his "Power of Christ compels you" speech, also known as an epidural, that Jen began to calm down.
Pushing proper began at noon. Say what you will about Jen, but she's a trooper. She pushed and pushed and pushed trying to get that little bugger out of her. After about 3 hours it became apparent that Zoë just wasn't going to cooperate. The doctors agreed to throw in the towel and began the arrangements for a caesarian.
They wheeled Jen off and gave Grandma and I a few minutes to slap on some nifty OR clothing prior to heading down. We took the opportunity to pose for one final pre-baby photo.We got to the OR and walked in, only to be greeted by Jen's bloody entrails being ripped from her body. (Funny that they had us enter from THAT side of the room.) I made my way over to Jen's head and did my best to keep her calm and counting while they finished up the process.
Just a few minutes later they pulled out Zoë and cut the cord, and we were treated to our first hearing of her cries, oddly enough mimicking those of a wounded cat.
Zoë and I were wheeled off to another room for the weighing and first round of vaccinations while Jen was stitched up. About 45 minutes later we were able to spend some time together and enjoy our first moments with the baby.
There's tons more to tell about the hospital stay and what's happened since, but we've got to take things one step at a time. Here are a few more photos...
