If there's one thing that I probably should've blogged about on this "dad blog" it would have been the labor and delivery. Alas, even that, the single most intense/greatest day of my life, has been brushed aside. I was too overwhelmed in the moment to take pictures, and the whole thing leading up to the delivery is now clouded due to sleeplessness/exhaustion. So perhaps I should type some thoughts, based on what I remember, on the labor/delivery and some expectations vs. reality since.
I will spare you specific details, but I'm not sure I can reiterate how exhausting and difficult Chelsea's labor was. I don't say that to scare any current soon-to-be dads and moms or try to one up anyone else's labor, but it was intense. First contractions started on Monday afternoon, they got slightly more intense during the night, which meant very little sleep for either of us. It seemed like they were getting closer by TUESDAY NIGHT, but we weren't sure, so we went to the hospital. Nope. Sent us home. We called the doula the next morning and she promised to get Lydia out that night. For those keeping track, yes, the baby still had not come as of Wednesday morning. Turns out, Lydia was turned the wrong direction and Chelsea was experiencing painful back labor that could only be quelled by someone applying counterpressure to her tailbone. (Someone=me.) We even went to the chiro on Wednesday afternoon for some back relief. Finally by Wednesday evening, some progress.
I will skip the next 8 hours, not because they were uneventful, but because I'd basically be repeating myself about the back labor, counterpressure, back labor, counterpressure.
At around 11 pm Wednesday, Chelsea couldn't take it anymore and we (she) got the epidural. I would've gotten the epidural at least 24 hours earlier. Anyway, the epidural sped things along and Lydia was born about 30 minutes later.
Many people have told me that fathers don't grasp the reality of fatherhood until they are fathers. I don't know if that's true for everyone, but I can certainly relate. It was my job to reveal Lydia's sex to the room. I was so moved by the experience and flooded with fatherhood emotion that it didn't even occur to me that Lydia was a girl or a boy, or that I should perhaps find that out. She was just a baby that I was now responsible for, and that if I fail at that responsibility, she will grow up poorly adjusted and I could possibly go to prison. While that inner dialogue turned into a panic attack, someone, I don't know who, reminded me of my duty.
After the NICU team attended to Lydia (She had inhaled meconium) and Chelsea was being attended to, I retreated to the bathroom to collect myself and do some breathing exercises. I came back into the room just as Lydia was being given to her mom. When I returned, I felt less fear and more empowerment to help my daughter be strong, independent, kind, thoughtful and all those other things parents want for their children. I was filled with hope about who she would become. I now possessed the dad rage needed to to intimidate anyone who ever hurts her, tells her to smile, demeans her ambitions, or knocks her appearance.
Tips for dads re: labor and delivery:
-Get a damn doula. It is so helpful to have someone there if you have a question, or need another comfort source in the room. They know how to comfort your partner using knowledge about child birth, which you know absolutely nothing about.
-Admit that you know absolutely nothing about child birth. Embrace it, and get a doula.
-Get a delivery room with a hot tub if possible.
-Go to a class. You know nothing.
-Learn some relaxation techniques for yourself. It is bound to be a stressful few hours
No comments:
Post a Comment