Dude To Dad: Birth Story, Pt. III
To read Part I of “Dude To Dad: A Birth Story, click here!
To read Part II of “Dude To Dad: A Birth Story, click here!
“I’m not getting in the car, Charlie. Forget it…”
After three moaning hours of “slow dancing” with my wife, being stood up by our doula, having a doctor basically tell me to do whatever I thought was best, calling a friend to assist us who’d recently had a baby, my brother probably losing his mind in the next room and, to top it all off, not having our bags or a printed off “birth plan” prepared since he was now coming a week early, I was ready to say, “Cool. Let’s poop that baby out right here. We have hardwood floors.”
But I’m not one of those people who think like they talk. I think in concepts, not in words. So, it was only a split-second before I said, in a tone of voice that would make God do whatever I wanted and with as much charm as the snake in Eden, “We’re getting in the car now.”
And so we did.
Our doula, bless her errant and absent heart, decided we were wrong about my wife’s contractions calculations that I was frantically emailing her. She must’ve chalked it up to her “those parents-to-be are just freaking” spider sense. Well, she was wrong. And did I mention the birth plan she drew up for us when we first met with her? When I attempted to print it, it said TWENTY pages. We discussed it for 10 minutes. EFF THAT.
But let me back up for just a minute. We know we aren’t medical professionals, and we’re good with that, but we figured we’d earned the right to make some decisions about our birth process, so we wanted a birth plan. We studied harder than the majority of our friends and armed ourselves with knowledge. But we also understood the fluid reality of birth. Situations change. Things develop. There is no EFFING NEED for a birth plan to be 20 pages because I can’t imagine a nurse speed-reading it and saying, “Sounds good to me” upon arrival.
It’s 12:23am. Do you know where your unborn son is?…So, in between minute long contractions every other minute, we scooped up some pillows from the couch and we all struggled to the car. We loaded my wife into an SUV, in the “way back”, as we called it when we were kids. You might call it “the trunk”. She was on all-fours. It was the only position my wife could stay in. It was 12:20am.
I drove like a ninja, if ninjas knew how to drive, racing like a man with a death wish and hearing my wife makes sounds I could never imitate or want to hear her emit ever again. We got to the hospital in about 20-25 minutes and pulled up into the massive parking structure maze. By then, Avara’s contractions were coming less than a minute apart and she basically couldn’t walk and couldn’t talk. We asked the half-brained attendant if they had a wheelchair we could use. Nope. I mean, it’s a hospital for godsakes. Why would THEY have a wheelchair.
We finally made our way to the registration area (having pre-registered for Finn’s delivery). The nurses were very nice and things seemed relatively calm, but the nurse who checked us in, noticed my wife having a nuclear contraction and asked, what would we come to know as, the billion dollar question:
“Are you pushing right now?”
“No… I’ve been trying not to… for over two hours.”
It was total pandemonium in the hospital room. See?This nurse, as far as I’m concerned, is a Nobel Prize winner. She saw what was happening with my wife, what I’d tried to explain for over 3 hours to others, and she leapt on it. We went immediately to an “active labor room” (by wheelchair) where she checked my wife. “Well, you’re 10 centimeters dilated. You’re going to have this baby,” she said overly perkily. She then turned to me with her eyes wide and mouthed, “I can feel his head.”
Then came the sh*tstorm. Clothes ripped off. Machines plugged in. More nurses (with less bedside manner). More stress. If only I had my 90 page birth plan to tell everyone to shut up and speak in hushed, calm tones. I’d love a whisper, if I could get one. But every time I asked for lowered voices, I got: “YEAH, NO PROBLEM. WE CAN DO THAT” in the style of a Texas trucker trying to beat out his big-rig for sound. They paged our doctor, an installation of some celebrity in his own right at our hospital, but they worried he wouldn’t make it. And remember, from Part 2, he was supposed to go out of town.
At that moment, the heart monitor could no longer find a heartbeat for my son and they began administering oxygen to my wife. I could tell the nurses were getting skittish. I kept myself buoyant by thinking about user error and machine failure. They wanted us to push. Where the hell was our doctor? They told us ‘he couldn’t be reached’ and in came a resident who looked like he was twelve years old, deciding out loud what do with his “patient”. My stomach sank and right then in came our doctor, pulling his sweatshirt off like Superman in a phonebooth with his scrubs underneath. We were both relieved better than any drug they could administered us, just seeing his face. He dove his head down by my wife’s chocha and then popped back up with smile, “So, we’re going to have a baby now!”
Yep. And we did. Three to four pushes later, no more than 20 minutes from setting foot in the Obstetrics wing, my wife produced the most amazing baby boy I’ve ever seen. No drugs. No substitute doctor (he was drop kicked out of the room). No one stronger than my wife. Yes, she did crush my hand to brittle dust. Yes, I did look down and watch my son being born. And no, I wouldn’t take back any of it.
We remained there a day and half afterwards because my son’s oxygen levels were a bit low and our night nurse, Hailee, was amazing. After a rigorous bath and few more suction appointments, he was right as rain and we drove home at about 13 miles per hour the whole way. In Los Angeles. Where people kill each other over driving too slow.
“Two of my favorites.”
The first time seeing Finn.It wasn’t how we planned it. There were many failures along the way. But when you have that baby in your arms, it really doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Except that perfect baby and his perfect spit-up, all over your clothes.
28 Comments
28 Responses to “Dude To Dad: Birth Story, Pt. III”
I’ve heard lots of birth stories from the mom’s perspective, but not the dad’s, so this was a really great read for me. And, being faced with the task of go through this for our own son in a month or so, reading stories like this makes me feel like I can probably handle it
Thanks for sharing!
You can do it! You don’t need my writing to tell you that.
Wow, this is exactly like what happened with our second child. We got to the hospital as fast as humanly possible, they had no freaking wheelchairs, and the idiot nurses were trying to send my wife into the bathroom to change, not believing that she was already fully dilated. Our doc came in at the last minute to play catch. Bam, inadvertent natural childbirth. I feel for you, man.
Crazy right? I can’t imagine, if what they say is true about second kids being faster, how it could be any more sped up.
Wow, Thank you for your perspective! That is an awesome birth story!
Thanks, Pam! Did you read all three parts?
Oops I replied to the wrong comment! So again…Of course I read all three and Mr Finn is super cute and I love his developing personality!
Maybe your second should be a planned homebirth, because if not then it looks like it might be an unplanned one.
Sooo sweet!! And damn, your wife is my hero! Trying not to push for 2 hours?? OMG. I nearly pooped my second on a toilet because I had no ability to keep myself from pushing. That hurts, like, really, really bad. Yay for happy birth stories! I wish I could get my husband to write his perspective down.
Eh, just stay home next time
I admire your participation in the birth, my husband sat like a lump on the couch for my last two. Thanks for the support, babe.
Of course i did and little Mr. Finn is super cute!
Wow! What an amazing birth story! You’ve inspired me to go have a baby now. Just kidding. Seriously though, what a beautiful story. It inspires me to write the birth stories of my two boys. How neat would it be for them to read, when they are old enough, both their Mom and Dad’s perspetives of their birth. Thanks for sharing.
What a fabulous story! My first one took an hour and a half of pushing…the next 3 took about 10 minutes. So when my water exploded at home with my 5th one at 2:30 in the morning and my husband was passed out drunk, I panicked, thinking that the baby was going to come right then and there. I made him get up and drive me to the hospital (scary) and it was another 10 hours before I delivered.
You never know what those kids will do….or how long they’ll take to do it!
Amy
This is an amazing birth story! Your family is beautiful. You and your wife did an excellent job.
I love this birth story
can’t imagine how fast your second will be! Braelyn was 8 hours and Liam was 4!!! I’d prepare for…1 hour! Lol! Avara is a superhero for going through that, no doubt!!! Amazing experience 
Chalk it up to us being from Germany (obligatory and general health insurance only slightly undermined by private contestors): we had a nice vacation at the hospital.
My wife was sent in to be monitored because the heartbeat was weak. After three days waiting (single in a double-bedroom) and trying everything ‘natural’ the birth was set off by drugs. Before: a lot of walks (~10 km on the day of the birth), some coffee and an obscure previous-used-against-cancer-medicament, but to no avail. One midwife even told us that we would have at least half an hour without any disturbance due to change of shift and there being another thing one could try out …
And then everything went fast and, thanks to more drugs administered elsewhere, more or less painless until the last hour where pain, as the doctor had explained some months earlier, seems to be beneficial like a data feed-back. So my wife started to become a bit louder and our first midwife (stayed until the end although her shift was over) noticed that I still had left the window open from earlier on (we had a conversation about some other people in the hospital complaining about the sounds from the birth station … yeah, that’s Germany too), asked me about it and I shrugged it off (she too). Later my wife told me at this moment she really was thankful for my indifference (and subsequent staying at the side). Everything afterwards was fine, cutting, cleaning, suckling, both sleeping, me going home through a full moons night.
oh I can’t help but crying happy & hormonal tears when reading this! I’m due this summer with our first one, and I’m convinced my guy is going to be the best support ever. I’m so looking forward to the delivery of our little girl!
I would like to say that I just found your site today and LOVE it! I loved reading your baby story. MY husband on the other hand did not bc now I want another one lol .
Thanks for having an awesome blog
soooo…I’m crying over here….this is so sweet! I’m fully satisfied after find your site today
Just know that there is a lady in Ontario(Canada) that digs you guys somethin’ fierce!
Thanks Jenn! We dig you too!
Well said. It’s not something you’ll ever forget, your memory will temper the bad bits and put a glossy rosy glow on everything, but you’ll never forget.
Must say though, your medical system for these things sounds crazy. Here (The UK), the prospective parents are the single voice through the whole event, nothing is denied to a labouring mother, no matter how bizarre. Did you just go to a normal hospital, or a special birthing unit?
Our first emerged in 6 hours, from waters to completion, your story strikes more than a few chords
It’s a bit frustrating. Our doctor was amazing, and we’d planned on going even more “naturally” in the beginning but he wooed us in a really sweet manner.
We went to the hospital associated with our doctor. My wife was born naturally at home, along with half of siblings.
Thanks for reading all the way through!
Thank you for posting this. My wife is due “any day now” as the official due date was this past Sunday. We don’t have an official “birth plan” and I’ve basically felt it would end up like most plans, thrown out the window. It is good to know that things can go apeshit crazy and still work out in the end. I truly appreciate your website.
The best thing you can do is go in knowing that whatever happens, you do what you have to do. The most important thing is everybody is healthy and you get the support you need.
I appreciate you coming out and reading the story.
And the fact that you stole my name.
Wow, this post made me cry! And the pics. How lucky you both are to have eachother, and your sweet boy.
Also, wtf with your doula? 20 pages? Makes me appreciate more that my doula was awesome possum…she told me to cut my birth plan down to 1 page only, so nurses can read it quickly.
Good job for taking the lead and getting her to the hospital!
Pregnant, hormonal woman should not read this entry. Tears. Also, please give Avara a giant high five, because she is a rock star.
I’m not sure whether or not she got off easy having a fast labor.It would be so scary to have it happen, especially with the first one when you’re so confused as to what’s going on. Mine took FOREVER, like 3 days forever, and maybe that’s why I’m leaning more on the she’s lucky side haha. Awesome story! More Dads should write and tell the story from their perspective. The birth process is a beautiful thing and your wife is lucky she had her husband there because not a lot of guys are man enough to! Thumbs up to both of you!
Future dad, here.
Is it just me, or is any variant of “You’re going to have this baby” the most annoying thing a medical professional can say in that situation?
Also, thanks for sharing all that. Interesting to read from the dad’s perspective.