It Was All Worth It

From Writer Keith

First and foremost, I’d like to thank all of the readers of the “Morning Express” blog who have been so nice with my Kathy Lee Gifford obsession with my baby blog.

Baby Gwen: Look at that adorable little face!

I wanted to keep a journal to show my daughter one day about what the ride was like for her old man and her mom from start to finish. I write this while my wife is holding our daughter while watching her first Red Sox-Yankees game. Well, that didn’t take long.

It has been quite a haul here at the hospital. We went in for a scheduled induction this past Sunday. We settled into our labor and delivery suite to start the process. My wife got strapped into these monitors. Picture laying down with two things the size of air hockey paddles wrapped around you. They were to monitor the baby’s heart-rate and contraction.

Of course if one moved, a nurse ran in. This happened every 12 minutes, which was fun for me while I was trying to sleep on the equivalent of a park bench. At one point I came close to going to the nurse’s station, slapping down my insurance card and yelling “GIVE ME DRUGS!!!” Luckily, the hospital has a free spinal adjustment with each birth.

They gave my wife something to help dilate her that night, which was a ball of fun for my wife. See, in order for it to work my wife couldn’t go to the bathroom for two hours. Which is fun, when you have to go every half hour.

After that, I was able to go get us something to eat before the midnight deadline at the McDonald’s inside the hospital. You read that right, a McDonald’s in a hospital. There was a direction sign saying McDonald’s this way, cardiology unit this way. Talk about one of life’s crossroads.

After a two-hour nap, they gave my wife something to induce labor. It was hooked up to an I.V., which made it more fun. Every time my wife had to use the restroom, we had to unplug the I.V. and the hockey paddles. Then plug everything back in then get readjusted. This happened 39 times on the first day.

After day one, no progress. So our doctor said “Wash, rinse, repeat.” My wife, who had been a trooper with the discomfort, had to start from step one. I was so spent, I wondered if I could make it through another day as I sat down with my Big Mac.

Now I don’t want you to think I was a slouch. I had to hustle. Need ice chips or water? I’m your guy. Want another warm blanket? No problem. Want to watch “Twilight” for the 34th time (ugh), let me put it on. Want me to try to explain why I did this to you, why men in general are evil, why do they keep bringing me hospital food when I can’t eat, and what’s the deal with airline food … well there are some things even I don’t know.

After the second induction, still nothing. So we were officially at the 14th round of “Rocky” decision: “Cut me Mick, cut me.” Our doctor thought our baby was too big for a normal birth, and after an ultra-sound it was determined that she could be up to 9-and-a-half pounds.

We made the decision. My wife was going to get a c-section.

I won’t go into the gory details, but it was pretty quick and at the time painless for my wife. Gwendolyn Leigh was born at 11:30a on June 9th, 2009. She weighed in at 7 pounds, 13 ounces and stood at 20". The reason she wouldn’t come out? She had her father’s big Irish square head. Luckily for us though, we also found out Gwen had her cord wrapped around her neck. But after a check from nurses and doctors, everything was fine. As our pediatrician told us the next morning, she was in perfect health. And that is all a parent can ask for.

Now we are sitting in the family care unit at the hospital. We got a great room overlooking the city of Atlanta. We’ve had tons of visitors, tons of help, tons of well wishes from friends and family from around the world. My wife is recovering well, but is still in some pain. But looking in Gwen’s big blue eyes, she says it’s all worth it.

As for me, I was sold on this when my wife handed me the pregnancy test back in October. I was even more sold when the doctor handed Gwen to me. Now we learn the little nuances, facial gestures, what each cry means. We have a whole lifetime of that. A whole lifetime: well worth it.