The Story of Andrew's Birth

The following is something I wrote in the few days after Andrew was born. Be advised, there is adult language below. I try to keep posts here G-rated and family driendly, but as you can imagine there were very strong feelings and I feel that the language is warrented. I sent this too a few people who asked how it really went for me, but I didn't offer it freely and publicly until now.

I would like to post about my experience with the twins delivery, but I wanted Andrew's to be posted first. I hope you like it;

I called it First Breathes:

Andrew Marcus Berg was due on December 12, 2009. Starting at the beginning of the second trimester he started consistently measuring about 2 weeks more developed than usual. I hoped this would indicate (and somehow managed to convince a number of people) that he would be coming early. During the 3rd trimester he was getting so big that we got to have 2 extra ultrasounds that we wouldn’t have had so that we could track his size and better prepare for his birth. Dr. Delgado said that she didn’t want him to go past his due date. Kel didn't have gestational diabetes, Rew was just a big guy!

By the time of his last pre-natal appointment on December 8th he felt way overdue. We scheduled an induction for Tuesday the 15th, the earliest possible date at that time. When you’re scheduled for an induction you usually end up going in the night before. The first set of medicine is usually administered then so that it can get things going while the expectant mother sleeps. The second set would be administered in the morning of the induction and would set the contractions off for the rest of the day.

We were supposed to go in the night of December 14th. And by “supposed to go in” I mean we had to call in and see if there is room. Sometimes L&D (the Labor and Delivery department) is full. It was pretty full on December 14th. We were told to call back later that evening. When we did they said to call again early the next morning. We were eventually cleared to come in at 9 am Tuesday morning, knowing that the timing of our late admission was probably going to make for a very long day.

The meds kicked in very well and Kel progressed impressively. When they broke her water they saw it was a little tainted. Now we’re on meconium watch. She ordered the epidural as soon as the doctors would let her and it came about an hour later (probably about a half hour after she was REALLY ready for it). She probably went through 4 hours of contractions, about 3 of which required some pretty focused breathing. She says that she felt that she could have gone through without it, but why not use what’s available?

After the epidural she was able to get some good rest in. We watched So You Think You Can Dance on the overhead TV as her contractions raged on the monitor. This is what we prepared for and we were getting pretty psyched up! We had practiced with ice cubes to simulate discomfort for her and figure out how best for me to support her. We discovered that of all of the infinite things a birth partner can do, what worked best for Kel was for me to hold her hand and be still and quite while the contractions hit. After they tapered off she would open her eyes again and I was cleared to talk to her and encourage her. She had prepared to push with all she had, reminding herself of other endurance events that she had done. Just like going to the gym. Confidence is everything, right? I knew about how messy the process can be and had prepared myself for that. If you can handle violent video games and watch gory scary movies, you should be able to handle the birth of your own son, right? Confidence. I was going to get to have my hand crushed into oblivion as she gave the final push and brought our son into the world. I was going to get to…
*choke* (give me a minute…)
Phew.

I was going to get to snuggle him all brand-new and gooey the way Dad got to snuggle me. During our first couple of minutes as a new family we would all get to cuddle and share in the ecstasy of the moment.

But that’s not what happened. The easy ride stopped as soon as we turned off the dance show. Later on his vitals started acting up. They would slow down if she was on her back or one side, and then that side may switch in an hour. When it came time to push she was more on her side than her back. Dr. Delgado told Kel that she would not get a lot of opportunity to push the way his vitals were acting, so her pushes really had to count. That was all Kel needed! She was pushing like a champ! I think the rest she had from the epidural really helped with the energy she had here. But when she would push his vitals would fall right to the floor. I got to hold one of her feet with one hand and help curl around the baby with my other hand on her back.

And she gave those pushes every ounce of her being. Only the first set had some technique corrects and the rest were flawless. She knew this was going to be a big boy and she said “bring it on!” The doctor kept saying how they were perfect pushes and to keep doing exactly what she was doing. During this phase her contractions got to 2.5 long and back-to-back. Contractions are usually 90 seconds and father apart.

But his vitals couldn’t keep up. We had to wait what seemed like an eternity for the timing of the contractions to coincide with his vitals being strong enough to stress with a push. And each push seemed to stress him out more. After about just under an hour of pushing Dr. Delgado called it. She said Kel could keep pushing and we would probably be no better off in another couple of hours and everyone would just be more stressed. Plus the fact that his vitals dropped probably meant that his cord was in the way somewhere. And he was still at station 1 when he should be dropped more to station 2. Could maybe push him out, but not the best idea. Time for a cesarean section.

Now when we got to the hospital that morning I had passed the doctor in the staircase. She was doing a cesarean. Later in the afternoon when she came in to check it was after a 4:30 cesarean. Is this woman c-section happy? Is she getting some kind of surgical commission? What is really going on here?

But hey, if that’s what needs to be done we hired you because we want and need to trust your judgment. Kel says “let’s do it”. A c-section it is.

Not what I planned for.

So they wheel her off and tell me to put on this-here gown. Done. I’ll get the camera ready too. Then I go out to the lobby and tell our parents that his vitals are tanking at every push so we need to do the c-section. I’ll let you know when there’s more to know. “When do I get to hold my Grandson?” Right after I do.
After a smile I head to the labor room. Then a nurse comes in.

“Mr. Berg you look pretty ready with your gown already on. You may want to get your camera ready.” You mean this camera right here with the battery charged and ready to go?
“Yes, Mr. Berg! You’re a very prepared man!” I guess…
“Well you have some time before she’s prepped. You may want to pack up your stuff for transfer to your room.” Done. I packed the rest of the stuff in 3.5 seconds flat and continued my vigilant pacing. I did not practice this particular form of pacing. Finally someone came in to get me and led me about 15 yards into the operating room. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in an operating room, but nothing could be different from the labor room. The labor room had full windows and blinds, hardwood floors and cabinets, soft adjustable lighting, walking (pacing) space. Operating rooms are bright and white and reek of sterility. That latex/Nitrile gloves smell; do you know what I mean? Rubber and disposable everything. I did not practice going in operating rooms and smelling rubber disposable everything.

And is that a gas leak? What’s that taste?

And there at the center of everything is my everything. My beautiful Kelly all sprawled out with her arms out on the sides and a blue curtain hiding everything below her neck. “Hi, Babe” she says in a little bit of a sedated, drunken stupor. “We’re gonna see our little boy soon!” Yes we are… yes we are. “I can’t really talk now, my speech is kinda slurry.” That’s OK. You don’t have to do anything.

So I hold her hand and tell her she’s doing great. As the operation continues she keeps me up to speed on what she’s feeling. A little pressure here and there. It doesn’t hurt but it’s uncomfortable. “Actually, Dr., that does hurt.” He adjusts her meds. Now she’s feeling noxious. “OK Dad, now you have a job. You hold this crescent pan next to her face”. You sure? I didn’t practice holding a crescent pan in a bright disposable room to the face of my anesthetized everything. And seriously, that taste! Anyone?

I didn’t think a c-section would be so… violent isn’t the word. Aggressive is a better word. She would get pulled from side to side and down every once in a while, and then there would be a delayed look on her face like “Hmm. Interesting…” Didn’t practice watching that either.

Actually, now that I think about it I never could handle watching surgeries on TV. My friend Jeff used to tease me about my reaction to a rinoplasti discussion we had. “Tap-tap, Kyle. Tap-tap.” And I’d squirm. He got a big kick out of that.

“You can look around the curtain if you want to” she tells me. I peak around and I see him. He had just come out. Didn’t see him come out but I did see them take him from her to the table. Just a quick flash. His skin was dark. Huh. And he’s freakin’ huge!
“OK Kelly, how are you feeling? Can I adjust your meds at all? Are you feeling nauxious”
“Yeah, but it’s getting better.”
Actually, Doc, I’m feeling a little dizzy.
“Yeah, Dad?”
OK. Seriously. That taste. That’s gotta be a gas leak of some kind. Someone call PG&E. They should put one of those new meters on this place like they did at our house. Then they could just check for leaks like this remotely. So much can be done remotely now. Wow, Rew won’t know a world were you can’t remotely…
And my mind just wandered like this. Then these voices come in out of the background “Lay down, just lay down.” Why would you lay down in the surgery room if you’re not the one being operated on? That’s just silly. Silly Willy. I get to be silly with Rew soon…

I had passed out. I guess I can add breathing to the list of things I didn’t practice. I come to with about 3 people easing me to the ground.
“Hey! There he is! How are you doing, Dad?” Thumbs up. Nice catch Doc.
“I probably wouldn’t have got you if you hadn’t dropped that dizzy line. Did you have anything for dinner?”
Of course I had dinner! I ate at 4. I ate early because I didn’t want to miss anything.
“Kyle, it’s midnight. We’re gonna get you some juice.” Guess I’ve had some other things on my mind besides food. I tasted something funny earlier. That was a sign of fainting? Awesome.
So I lay there on the floor and I hear a little gurgle. Then a while later I hear him cry and the staff cheer. Then I sit up against the cabinets and reassure Kel that everything is OK now.
They bring him around and show him to Kel. She’s too weak to hold him but I get a couple of pictures of the 2 of them. Then the anesthesiologist takes the camera and gets a couple of shots from over 4 feet off the ground and a couple more. Then I get to hold him for a little while seated there on the operating room floor. Wow. I don’t recognize you. What does that mean?
“OK, we’re going to take him to the nursery now. Dad, you can come over whenever you’re feeling ready.”

I probably spent another half an hour going from floor to chair, back to floor, back to chair, drinking juice, drinking water. “Mom’s doing fine. I’m not worried about her. I’m worried about Dad!” I’ve got to get out of this room. Are you OK, Babe? I can’t breathe in here. “Sure. I’m fine. I’ll see you and Little Mister soon.” They bring me a wheel chair and take me back to the labor room.

“Try and take a little nap.” Nap my ass. I have a little son to see. Gotta get my head back. Gotta breathe. Gotta eat. Gotta drink. Ok. Sit up now. Good. Stand up now. Good. Water on the face is one of my favorite feelings and feels really good now. Alright walking around! There’s that taste again. Fuck! Sit down again. Breathe. Water. Breathe. Facebook! Something to do. Type, type, type. Then my parents and Robin. Text, text. They come in right as I push send. Good. They’re probably freaking out right now. I set them at ease. Robin goes out to see Kelly.

In the end he was born December 15th, 2009. He weighed 9 lbs 3 oz and was 21 inches long. He has dirty blonde hair and blue eyes with brown details near the cornea. His cord was wrapped around his neck. He had a massive amount of meconium in utero with him (hence the dark skin) and in his airway. They had to work hard to suck all of the gunk out of him. He had a pretty rough go there at the start the first hour. Now I recognize the chin and the cheekbones. He looks remarkably like my little brother when he was little- little. Those are my eyes with some of Kel’s details. Dirty blonde hair! Well, well!

I’m a pretty open-minded guy. I hear a lot of new-age birth techniques that sound pretty cool and some that sound really weird. I hear a lot of western/modern-medicine bashing. You can talk as much shit as you want about how cold hospitals are. You can say that your techniques would probably have conquered the same obstacles my little boy had to. You can say whatever you want, but I believe that if the doctor hadn’t make the call she made when she made it I would have lost at least one member of my family.

Now my boy is sleeping and feeding and crying and pooping and all of the wonderful and glorious things that babies do. And I couldn’t be happier.