D is for Dozer (Make Way)

The third chapter of my children's story begins with the realization that my second son will be born sometime in the summer. Two boys, wow! Once again my head was in the clouds. Seems like the other shoe had dropped now as my wife was hoping for a girl. She was happy either way she said but I knew how I felt getting a son. This was going to be our first valley born child and the thought of not having to drive to the Bay Area was great. Only had to go down the road twenty minutes this time. No hour and a half drive, counting contractions. All the way to the hospital I am wondering if I am going to be delivering the child in the car? What if we have a flat, or get in a wreck?

Being our third child we are in control of this one. We have everything ready. Got the crib, the new family vehicle, the diapers and we are set. Pass the due date we go, one week, two, Oh oh! Time for inducement. That dreaded word again. One of if not my least favorite words in the English language. Translation equals PAIN, PAIN, and more PAIN! Controlled contractions every few minutes until the baby is born. One hour, two, three, eight, what ever it takes. Aghhhhhhhhhhh! In we go at eight in the morning, with the advantage of scheduling the epidural ahead of time. She didn't get one when my first son was born because he couldn't wait to get out. Men pay close attention now. If your wife, girlfriend, lover, or whomever you are helping through the child birth process asks for an epidural and can't get it....... Lets just say I have a one doctor or nurse rule. That being, one doctor or one nurse between you and mom to be. TRUST me on this one! Serious injury can occur!

Time passes on and we are now at five in the afternoon and the pitocin is still not kicking in. The contractions are still coming and mom to be is wearing down. Believe me when I say that anyone who can endure hour after hour of this kind of pain is no one to be messed with. Hallelujah, it's epidural time. In goes the large needle and anything below the waist is gone, pain and all. After the nurse checks my wife's vital signs she leaves the room to check in on her other patients. Now here is another one of those "Pay Attention" moments men. A couple of minutes after the epidural takes hold all is finally calm. The intense pain and long battle through the multitude of contractions is subsiding. Then an alarm from the monitor sounds. Is it the baby, my wife? I look for a doctor or nurse in the hall way as my wife is very pale and looks like she is going to pass out.

Where is everyone? I'm heading down the hall, this time yelling for someone as I see the nurse. I am in a sprint ready to pick the nurse up and run her back to the room. Panic is something you get used to during childbirth and even a veteran like myself can fall prey to it. I had not seen this one before. The doctor is doing another delivery and my wife is crashing. There is the stress of going through the contractions all day and then there is this stress. I felt helpless. My fifth child and I thought I was prepared for anything, I was wrong. In the moment the nurse started looking through a binder to see what meds to give my wife, I was in a state of complete kaos. Her blood pressure had dropped to dangerous levels for both her and the baby. I had to stand by and watch as my wife and my unborn sons life were both in jeopardy. Found a whole new respect for nurses on that day.

She looked through the binder following protocol when no doctor was available. She acted decisively and slowly my wife's color came back as her blood pressure stabilized. What in the he double hockey sticks just happened? Many people will tell you that nurses are the back bone of the medical world and I can say I agree one hundred percent. Check the symptoms, check the chart, inject the meds, check the vital signs. All done as if nothing out of the ordinary were going on. Unbelievable I tell you, absolutely unflippin unbelievable! Once all the drama had passed I found myself not wanting the nurse to leave the room. I could block the door I thought, no that won't work. Snap out of it! After a few minutes I finally took a breath and stood by my wife. I wondered if she even knew what had just happened? Why is this guy taking so long I was thinking to myself. COME OUT ALREADY! Were all here waiting for you and I can't take much more of this.

His Aunt and Uncle were out in the hall with his sister and brother. Playing, going to eat, not knowing what had just happened. I was grateful for that. I looked at the clock and it was eight fifteen p.m. Just when you start to relax a little bit, they check and we are at ten centimeters. People start coming in the room getting the bed ready, the cover clothes, gloves, the warmer. Time to push! After our second child had to be held in while everything was prepared, I had it in my head that this guy would be as easy or easier. Wrong! After some heavy pushing it was getting to be quite evident that this boy didn't want to go into the light. The fact that he was late had allowed him extra time to grow and he wasn't budging.

When the doctor and nurses started to talk about a C Section my wife pushed again and finally he started his journey into the outside world. One more push......five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Then with one last push, we all found out what was taking so long. The boy came out looking like toddler. Nine pounds eleven ounces. Mom had a look of complete relief on her face. The hard part was done. Pushing out a ten pounder after an all day marathon of contractions, there is a reason they named it LABOR. Being so big there were tests for blood sugar levels and I went with him to the Nursery. All the other newborns looked tiny next to my boy. I was filled again with the pride and joy of having another son. How could I be so blessed. He was handsome with big dimples, a great head of hair, and a beautiful smile. The day was over and what a day it was. All the emotions you could possibly fit into a day. The road was rough and we needed someone big and strong enough to plow through it. As strong as my new son D. Because D is for Dozer. (Make Way) BigBlogAlphaDog