Paige's Birthday

Paige’s Birthday

Entry One:
We’ve just arrived at Sutter Health at 1:57 P.M. on Sunday, May 10, 2009. This is absolutely unreal.

But it’s really real. Sarah has been having contractions since 10:18 this morning. She went on a walk, ostensibly to go to Target and buy supplies for scrapbooking, but any fool could tell that she was really doing so in hopes of initiating labor. Get this girl out of me she’s thinking. She’s been ready for this for weeks. So when she got back, sure enough, I’m not feeling too well I hear as she stumbles in. Honestly, I was really prepared for her to be induced on Wednesday, but she’s glad that it’s here now, though I’m not sure that she’s not in a wee bit of denial about the severity of having something that big come out of something that small.

Entry Two (2:12 P.M.):
O.K. I’m back. I had to take some pictures. Sarah wants me to take pictures, but she also admonished me for taking too many and wasting the battery. Hey, I wasn’t going to take any! She looks pretty funny right now, like Scout from To Kill A Mockingbird in her ham costume.

This is not our real room. No, this is a triage room. Not sure what exactly that means, but I know it means that they have to do some tests and whatnot before we get admitted for the real deal. I keep thinking the same thing over and over again – this will not be easy, not at all.

Here comes a contraction. It looks painful. I’m glad I’m a dude.

Entry the Third (2:18 P.M.):
This makes sense. There are two nurses in our room now, and one is an intern! I guess you have to learn somehow, but I don’t like the idea of Sarah being a test case for this 50 year old new nurse who seems to have the equivalent of a nurse’s learner’s permit. Now they’re checking Paige’s heart rate and it sounds like that heart is beating.

Writing makes me feel normal. Sarah doesn’t want me to lose her blue papers. You’re mom, Paige, is a very meticulous woman. She’s having another contraction. For the first time in this process, something actually seems accurately portrayed by films and television.

Entry Four (3:04 P.M.):
There have been a few developments in the last hour or so. Though her contractions are strong and close together, they have suggested that we go for a walk or (!) go to the movies. Very strange. I guess she’s not dilated enough to get things going just yet. I’ll say, I’d like to see the new Star Trek, but the chances of Sarah actually sitting through a movie right now seems hardly worth mentioning. You can see the pain on her face every time one starts. They want to send her home, really, but they realize that we are 45 minutes from Hollister, so going home might be a strange turnaround trip. Who knows? It’s all up in the air now. Paige, it would be nice if you could come out now. We’ve been waiting for you for a very long time now.

Entry Five (4:51 P.M.):
Now that we’re back in the hospital, it’s becoming increasingly clear to me that we’re going to be here for a very long while. I may not sleep tonight. It’s sounding like they’re going to try to send us home. Sarah is moaning uncontrollably for hours now, so I’m not sure that I understand why they want us to go home. The walk was to no avail. She’s still in the same position as before she left. I guess it’s not too terrible if we have to go home. It sounds like she’s dying now. These aren’t stopping anytime soon (or at least not before the baby comes) so I’m not sure what good it does to be at home, or here, for that matter. I suppose we just have to let things run their course, even if that’s easier for me to say than for Sarah to experience. The cries of a pregnant woman are interesting. Let’s just leave it at that.
As for me, I am calmer than I was this morning. Everything moves so slowly. It’s so different from how it is portrayed in movies and TV. I never thought of doctors sending home a woman who’s having intense contractions every 2 minutes. That seems like the time you’d want to be in the hospital. They should give her some drugs. And they should give me some, too.

There was a nice deli close here, which was a pleasant surprise since I was preparing my stomach for a brutal assault from 7/11 (slow roasted in a bad way) hotdogs. As she was moaning as we ate, I had to pull out the whole “I’ll have what she’s having” thing from “When Harry Met Sally.” It made her laugh a little. That’s like her fourth contraction since I started typing this nine minutes ago. Wow. It sounds bad now. I suppose I should go over there, but there’s nothing I can do about it, so I’ll just sit here and type. O.K., I’ll try to do something. It’s just starting to sound too intense. I don’t think she’ll be scared of death after this, since it sounds like she’s being tortured to death as I type.

Entry Six (6:28 P.M.):
They didn’t kick us out. That was nice. Sarah got a hot bath, and she seemed to like it. There’s simply no relief for her right now and her moaning is unbelievable – though not in the sense that it seems fake – just in the sense that this is what I thought she’d sound like when actually delivering Paige. This has been going on for hours now and no end is visible. The nurse is quite nice even though I bullied her so that we could stay here. I can’t offer Sarah any relief; they can, through drugs and a nice warm bath.

Sarah’s parents showed up minutes ago and then they were gone. They seem very sensitive towards Sarah’s desire for privacy, which is pretty cool. Here comes another contraction! Here, I’ll transcribe it: “Uhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! OOOOOOOOOOO! UHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUH! *GASP* HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH! NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRG!”
Never get pregnant.

I think the nurses think that I’m pretty weird for writing while this is all going on, but again, I can offer Sarah no relief and I think that she’ll like having this record of what she went through. Not that it seems like this will be a day that either of us will ever forget. It’s pretty hot in here, but we can’t open the door because of wasps. My parents are on their way as they’re going to take care of our house and Sawyer. I can’t believe I’m actually worried about that dog right now, but I am. Sarah seems to be doing fine, overall, but it’s going to be a while until she has even a modicum of comfort. She must feel like she staring down the barrel of a gun right now. Here comes another one. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN! Huh. Ha. Huh. *Deep Sigh*

When she’s at the height of each contraction, she feels like she’s going to vomit, but nothing has happen at that point – yet. Then she sits there looking dazed for about two minutes until the next contraction starts.

This room is excellent with wood floors and nice French doors and windows and a television set as well as a lady bringing in food for Sarah. She has a smoothie (looks to be strawberry) and a PB&J. Breakfast of Champions.
I wonder if the Dodgers and/or Lakers won today – does that make me a bad person? Should I even be thinking about sports right now? Hmm, what a moral quandary.

Entry Se7en (7:54 P.M.):
“I want drugs!” It is just like the movies now. She’s starting to move on in terms of progress towards delivery. The nurse was guessing that we had about 8-10 hours to go, which sounds insane and just quite right at the same time. It now sounds like Sarah’s being stabbed in the stomach every thirty seconds, so they’re going to go ahead and give her some stuff called Phentenol, which I cannot look up without internet access. She definitely needs something at this point and how often I’m going to be updating this is in question. Her contractions are happening so often and are so severe, I need to be there for her.

Entry Eight (12:09 A.M.):
We’re really moving along now. Sarah has been resting comfortably for several hours now that she has her medicine. I had to be there for her whilst they were stabbing her in the spine. I didn’t like that, but she’s been in an awesome mood ever since. I should add at this point that the people who work at this hospital fucking kick ass. All the nurses have been exceedingly nice and knowledgeable. The anesthesiologist was a funny buffed-out Asian dude who explained everything as we went along, which made the spine-stabbing slightly more manageable.

Both of our families are here now; Don and Linda; Glenn and Denise; Taylor and Jake. Only Kate and Jeremy are absent, but I completely understand. Especially since someone has to hold down the fort in S.B. I can’t see why anyone would want to hang out around someone in labor who wasn’t their significant other anyhow. I kinda think the whole thing is insane. I don’t at all understand why or how pregnancy is like this. I think, though, that seeing all of this is probably the best argument against intelligent design I’ve ever seen. We haven’t heard Sarah’s great screams in hours, but they didn’t seem to be part of any design at all, unless pregnancy is designed to punish women for fornication.

One of our nurses is really into LOST, which certainly doesn’t hurt. Speaking of which, I find it amusing that I’m relieved that I won’t be missing the season finale. It’s hard to say whether that’s amusing or pathetic, but I’m not sure that matter since we’re going to be able to see it now.

Our current nurse is giving Sarah a bunch of advice about drinking enough water. It’s not a particularly interesting or enlightening conversation, but it certainly proves my point about the people who work here. They are so nice about everything. It’s great. Especially considering how lame I am.

Now that it’s getting close, I’m starting to get nervous again. Not completely about the birth itself (which is scary enough) but about the massive responsibility that awaits us once this is all over. Paige is going to have two stressed out parents! I’ve managed to remain calm for the majority of this process, but we’re not to the end just yet.

Oh yeah, and both the Dodgers AND Lakers lost. And that doesn’t really bother me. What’s happening here feels overwhelmingly important. Or at least important enough to dull the pain of my teams losing.

We’ll see when the next update is going to be. I wouldn’t hold my breath.

Last Entry: (9:50 A.M.):
I just slept for about four hours after Paige was born. I don’t think I’d call it a miracle, because that’d be taking too much away from what Sarah did last night. Not to mention that if this were a miracle, it would’ve been a lot less bloody. But it was amazing. It seemed like hours of very slow progress and then *whoosh!* just like that, she was out and part of the world. I have mixed feelings about this world, but Paige will probably like it better than I do. She’s very sweet. When I hold her, she doesn’t cry, at least so far. I think my voice is comforting to her. When she does cry, she sounds pissed off. It’s pretty funny, though I assume it will lose its comedic value after a very little while.

I’m really happy that Sarah didn’t need a C-Section. She did much better after the drugs. Mom and baby are bonding right now. Sarah’s just holding her and talking to her and that’s it. But that seems like that’s the perfect thing right now.

I’m tired, but it’s nothing compared to what Sarah must be feeling right now. It was a pretty rough night, but all in all, things went very well. There are so many things that could go wrong during delivery and of course I was constantly pondering the possibilities. I just worry like that. O.K. that’s it. She’s here. It’s time to be a Dad.

The End.