October 4, 2011 6:30 AM
So there we were, hoping that this was not a false alarm. Julie wouldn’t let me bring the bags in because she thought it would jinx us. The nurse at the desk asked, “Can I help you?”… to which Julie responded, “I think I’m in labor”. The nurse snickered a bit and said, “Well honey, you’re smiling so we will check you out and see”. Then she promptly made Julie throw away her coke zero. Not a good start.
So they put us in a room, and started doing the normal checks that a pregnant woman is used to… I will refrain from going into detail for your sake. To keep myself from being a part of this examination I start inspecting the room. It was actually way more cozy than I expected it to me. I had always imagined an operating room with surgical lights, metal trays, and white walls… but this place was made to make you feel like you were right at home… if your home just so happened to be decorated in 1991 and you still haven’t updated it. There was even an old school TV in there… and by old school I mean, not a flat screen. Who knew that there would be a TV in the delivery room?… I should have packed the Playstation! Needless to say, the TV’s main job while we were there was to keep my attention off of the stirrups. I don’t know what it is, but there is just something about those things that makes me squeamish… maybe it’s a guy thing, but the thought of having to lay on that table in those shackles for the whole world to see your business in a way that you can’t even see it is terrifying. Ok, back to the pertinent information. Beyond stirrups and TV’s there were just a lot of machines and printers and my best friend… the rocking chair.
The check up that I had checked out on did not yield pleasant news. Julie was dilated and effaced at the same measurements the doctor had given her the week before. So all of these contractions and no progress. So the nurse, feeling vindicated that she had possibly put this young girl in her place who thought she was in labor but yet was smiling, said to Julie, “Well, no progress…Your Dr will be in around 9, so if you still haven’t progressed we will send you home.” GREAT! The one major fear Julie had about labor is possibly going to come true. She finally has let herself get excited… she finally believed with me that today was the day… and now this nurse gave her an ultimatum that she has no control over… progress or go home.
So we prayed… and prayed some more. We even texted our family to get them on board. I didn’t know how much progress needed to be made in 2.5 hours, but I knew that I wanted Julie to prove that nurse wrong. Look lady… just because my wife is pleasant and sweet and kind and desires to treat everyone she comes in contact with with respect and with a smile regardless of her discomfort gives you no right to make smart aleck comments… This was now more than just labor… this was now war. And Nurse Worse was going to lose.
Lucky for us, she never returned.
Well, not much happened between 6:45 and 9AM… just watching the contraction graph rise and fall every few minutes. Praying they were doing their job.
Dr. Allen finally arrived… and he mentioned the same thing immediately. “Honey, I guess we are going to have to check to see if you have made in progress, because you are smiling too much to be in labor”… Oh boy, here we go again. Julie responded, “Isn’t this suposed to be one of the happiest days of my life?”. He agreed. He proceeded to check her, I proceeded to check out, and the Lord proceeded to answer our prayers… PROGRESS!
Dr. Allen looked Julie in the eyes and said, “Honey, I’m sorry I ever questioned you… we’re going to have a baby”. I cannot even begin to tell you in words how that felt. I know that Julie was relieved, I could see it on her face. She finally let a little emotion show. It was finally going to happen. I was finally going to meet this little miracle! Even in our selfish prayers, God proved faithful.
Dr. Allen then asked Julie what kind of pain she was in on a scale of 1-10… Julie responded, “Ummm, probably around a 3…”. I just stared at her… a bit baffled. You are half way through your progress… with no meds… and you are at a 3?? This is the girl, mind you, who passed out after a flu shot… the same girl who cut her knee on a date (with another man), passed out and seized up… the same girl who, without my heroic action, would have passed out when I rolled her toenail back by pushing the mattress over it. Now, in what is consistently regarded as the most painful thing that a female willingly allows herself to go through, she’s at a whopping 3. She has always claimed that she has a super low pain tolerance… I now claim she is a liar.
We continued to play that waiting game as family arrived in town. 5cm turned to 6… and 6 to 7… 7 to 8… pain level? “Ummm… maybe a low 4”.
We were getting close… so close that we skipped 9 all together… it was time to push.
I have to tell you, I always imagined this differently. I told you earlier that I thought the room would be surgical in nature, so I was fully expecting to be asked to put on scrubs and wash down my hands and arms like the doctors get to do… but no. Nothing like I thought. The mental images from the labor videos started coming back into my mind… this is when I realized that there would be no curtain blocking me from the action… another misconception in my brain. Needless to say, this is time that I was needed most… Julie can’t do this without me… Get it together Allen! Put the PTSD behind you! YOU DID THIS TO HER! So inside I’m freaking out, but on the outside I was cool as a cucumber. I was going to be the best cheerleader she could ever have.
So she pushed for what seemed like 20 minutes, but in reality it was closer to an hour before the Dr came in. During that time she was in the zone. Eyes closed, concentrating on the goal. I have never seen Julie like this in all of our time together. I was doing my best to help her know when she was pushing right… constantly urging her on… but she never opened her eyes, or said a word… all she would do after a good push was raise her fist in the air in victory… over and over and over again. She was a fist pumping machine.
She had actually made some really good progress during that hour, but still needed to go a bit further. Dr. Allen told her, “Julie, I will let you push all night if you want, or I can help you out…”. At this point, she was exhausted… and I was just happy to know that labor hadn’t taken away her ability to speak. She agreed… and Dr. Allen positioned a little suction cup right on Adleigh Ruth’s head… and on the next contraction, our lives changed forever. There she was. I have never in my life wanted to meet someone as badly as I wanted to meet her… and she was here. In all seriousness, time seemed to stand still. I looked at my wife, and I can honestly say that I have never been more proud of her. She. was. awesome! My love for her increased exponentially because of what she had just done for us.
I cut the cord… Yes, I did it. I was scared. I thought I may pass out. But they gave me scissors that were as sharp as razor blades… plus my adrenaline was off the charts.
Then we proceeded over to the weighing table, where I was able to touch my little girl for the first time. Words cannot express the feeling. Pride just doesn’t do it justice. It was beyond joy. Weird wet stuff was falling from my eyes… I still need to get that checked out.
I am so thankful that God blesses us with spouses… and through the blessing of marriage, I am thankful that he chose to bless us with Adleigh Ruth. I knew standing there holding the hand of my wife and my new baby girl that my life would never be the same… and I also knew that I would not have it any other way
thet8s 