Emma- The Day

While talking to Steven a few weeks back about posting my birth stories, I told him, "you know Emma's birth was really a blur for me."

I remember people being there, though not who all was there and when they got there, I remember Traci braiding my hair, I remember laboring on the giant bean bag, I remember once again straddling the toilet backward, I remember how all the sibling childbirth classes did not work because as soon as Mommy made the first groan, Alli and Abby were out the door! I remember my mom bringing me the letters "E" "M" and "A" that she had bought for Emma's nursery for me to focus on during the birth but I couldn't because the other "M" was on back order and it just completely threw me off. And I remember that I was naked a lot more during that birth than any other because most of the photos of that day have me in some sort of indecent exposure or another. And I remember how Pat said that Emma's birth was one of her favorite births to attend EVER!! Because it was obvious how much that baby was loved by everyone there and it was amazing to see a family become complete.

So I asked my sweet husband,"What do you remember?"

And he wrote this...

THE DAY

Now I titled this “The Day”, but it would not be fair to describe that day without a little rewind first. Being the “sappy” one in our marriage, I have no shame in admitting that I was crazy about Amy the moment we started dating. Being with her was the moment I took a HUGE step forward in my world. I realized then that all the heartache and sorrow of my past were nothing of the kind. They were simply bumps in the pathway that lead me to the love of my life. Amy didn’t waste any time introducing me to Alli and Abby, which meant a lot. Alli was a suspicious 2-½ year old and Abby was an 11-month-old smile in diapers. Ah yes, diapers.

Now I had seen diapers changed before, but never had the “privilege” of going through the process myself. That is, until I met Alli and Abby. In very short order I had a diaper in my right hand, powder in my left and a deer in headlights look on my face. With Amy’s guidance, it didn’t take long for me to get the hang of things with the occasional diaper on backwards. Before long I was the mom of the house, at least at night when Amy was working. I was not only changing diapers as well as operating the diaper genie, but I had the “2 scoops add water and shake” routine down for formula as Amy was working away from breastfeeding. I really felt like I was getting fatherhood down (try not to laugh too much), though there was a strange feeling that I wasn’t quite getting the whole experience.

As time moved on, Amy and I were married and living in a house I had owned before we met. It was a nice home in a great area, but it wasn’t ours if that makes sense. Long and short of it, we bought a house in a new neighborhood and built it ground up the way we wanted our home to be. That was a great moment for our family and the first giant leap towards bringing Emma into this world. We had a place we could call our own and I think, without a word spoken, we knew we wanted a baby.

Of course there were discussions. I think Amy would call them “ask and answer sessions” with most, if not all, the questions coming from me. As the questions were answered and the light became clearer, that strange feeling that had faded away through time slowly began to return. Shortly after, Amy made the announcement that took my breath away. She was pregnant. I was ecstatic! A baby, wow! That’s when that strange feeling turned into utter panic.

Of course Amy had “been there done that”, but this was my first baby. I had been blessed to experience Alli and Abby at a very young age, but this was a baby! A baby that would come into this world at our home! I was a true bundle of nerves through her pregnancy and had to bring Amy much laughter and annoyance. Here is this poor woman going through the pains of a sore back, Emma kicking her like she was in a Bruce Lee movie and all the other unpleasant parts of being pregnant, while I asked meaningless question after question; “What if she is kicking because the umbilical cord is strangling her”, “Can she hear us”, “How does she go to the bathroom” and on and on and on. These questions all had merit to me and needed to be answered. Thank you Amy for not beating me senseless through that period of our lives.

Now, to “The Day”. I have heard many stories from friends and on T.V. about the birth of a daughter or son. The stories they recall speak with such clarity of the things going on around them, the people that were there, the weather, the time the birth started and ended, the score of a baseball game (sometime what inning the game was in) and many other aspects. Not me. Anything outside of Amy and Emma was a blur.

When Amy first started to feel like Emma might be ready, I know it was very early in the morning. When Amy knew Emma was coming, I know it was still early in the morning, but later than before. Get my drift? Phone calls were made, people began to rush over and I started to inwardly freak! Amy was doing her best to will back the birth until her mother and/or the midwife made it to the house. I think Traci came to the house right away and arrived to find Amy sitting in the living room trying to concentrate while I was making nervous joke after nervous joke to try and comfort her I guess.

It was at that moment where I had an out of body experience where I punched myself in the head before Amy shoved the hat rack through my abdomen. Knowing how much Amy loves our dog (insert sarcasm) I asked if maybe we should let Kanga in. To which Amy replied,” I’m in the middle of ****ing labor and you want to ask me about the ****ing dog?”

I think the sheer look of death by Amy towards “Mr. Funny Man” prompted my moment of Zen, but it happened nonetheless. At that point I realized we had skipped the first few chapters in the “labor handbook”, you know the “she’ll be happy and peaceful and may even joke around between contractions” section? We were way past that.

Thankfully the awkward moment was broken by Amy’s request to fill the garden tub up with warm water. Amy from her births of Alli and Abby had come to like soaking in the tub to help soothe her before giving birth. Learning from your previous births brings up a funny thing. During Amy’s pregnancy we had planned for Emma’s birth. We bought extra pillows, assortments of sheets for the bed and all sorts of stuff, because we just knew that Emma would be born in our bed.

We gently placed Amy in the tub and hoped that it would help as much as it could. The midwife, who thankfully arrived in time (see Abby), was doing her thing and preparing for Emma. Amy, bless her heart, was making noises that made me want to cry and then she asked for a pillow.

“A pillow”, I thought. “What the heck can she use a pillow for right now, she is in the tub”. Surely she means for the bed.

Seconds later, “I want a pillow”!

So what does dumb old Steve say, “But the pillow will get wet”.

Now I don’t know how many men have been in a situation where they are the only man in a room amongst several women while one is about to give birth, but if you have, only you can understand the collective look of “you’re an idiot” I received at that moment. Its quite chilling I can tell you. So into the tub with the pillow, on with the birth.

As time progressed I began to notice a genuine look of stress on Amy’s face. It was a stress beyond the pains of birth and I could tell she struggling with something. I had always leaned on her confidence during my times of stress throughout her pregnancy and I was very worried. She would not say what was going on and I did not have the vocabulary at that time to ask. Well it wasn’t long before she revealed what the matter was.

“I am going to have the baby in the tub”, she said.

“What did she just say, in the tub, are you crazy”, I thought.

Before I could speak, the midwife calmly said, “Okay”. “Okay”!

“My god, they are all crazy”! “Emma is going to drown”, I thought.

Meanwhile the midwife slid between the tub and me and softly spoke to Amy not of the tub, but of the birth. It was a brilliant method of assurance that all was well and I think brought Amy into focus. Me on the other hand, I was a worthless mumbling vegetable at that point, “In the tub”, “In the tub”? I moved in as close as I could and did everything I could to help. My mind was truly swirling and I thought I might barf. I was very worried and the world was off its axis! And then, in a moment, it all ceased.

Everything grew silent as if I were in a vacuum. In slow motion I watched the most wonderful, brilliant and beautiful face rise out of the water and come to rest on Amy’s chest. It was all so peaceful. I remember with such clarity watching Emma look at her mother as she came to rest and then gently rest her head to her side with no worry in the world. No crying, no panic, just peace. I was so proud of both of them and so happy to be their husband and father. I wanted so much to be with them, but I knew my time would come. Though I will always see Amy’s pregnancy as a journey that we took together, Emma deserved to see and experience first the woman that carried her and brought her into this world.

The Proud Papa:

The girls help Pat with the newborn exam:

I told myself that I would never experience again the feelings and emotions of that day and that it would be a once in a lifetime experience, that is…………………………… until a little yet brilliant white light named Kathryn entered our world, and let me tell you, she is a story all her own!