Surprise!!!

Just to let each of you know right off the bat, with the birth of our son Katie has kind of been resting/recovering every chance she has so she asked that I fill in to provide everyone with an update on how things have been going for us over the last few days. The "I" in this case is the often imitated, never duplicated "Mister".  Before you all close your browsers in sadness, I encourage you to continue reading because the last few days have been after-the-fact-memory-making-yet-horrifyingly-hilarious-and-disgusting moments that we will never forget.


So without further adieu, here is a recap of the last few days. The title of the blog couldn't be more appropriate because the only way to summarize the last few days is... SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!! Since the last weekend in October, Katie has had been diagnosed with hypertension that developed into preeclampsia due to high blood pressure during her pregnancy. Since I just passed out trying to spell those words correctly I will explain it to you the way it was explained to me. Sometimes women can develop high blood pressure during pregnancy. Nothing explains it and nothing fixes it except for delivery. There are varying levels of hypertension and sometimes it is can just be coped with. The doctors did a great job of dumbing it down to a level where we, and by we I mean me, could understand what was going on. There were basically four levels of blood pressure: a) safe to live your life normally; b) need to ratchet things back and be on bed rest but you can stay at home; c) need to come to the hospital and be checked out; and d) oh no, get the "go bag", it's time to deliver the baby so mom and baby aren't put at risk for some pretty nasty potential problems. For the last four weeks, Kate has been at home between a) and b).

Two Fridays ago, I came home after a week of traveling for work, spent some time with my girl, unpacked, got ready for bed and per our usual ritual, took Kate's blood pressure right before we went to bed. It was at the high end of level of c) and moving towards level d).... SURPRISE!!! Unlike Nintendo's Super Mario Brothers, getting to the last level, level d), is not something you take to the water cooler and brag about. Once you get to level d) there is no video game boss to face, only a princess to save. Since we were approaching level d) and it was late Friday night after a long week of traveling, I did what any junior varsity husband would do. I got out of bed like a shot, stared blankly at Katie, blacked-out momentarily, ran into the closet to try to pack a bag and then came back into the bedroom to ask Katie what I needed to do. She looked at me, with a look of frustratingly surprising calm and said, "Let's just take it again and see what it looks like. If it is better, we'll check it again in the morning and if it's worse, we'll head up to the hospital." It was amazing... so simple, so brilliant. We waited a few minutes, took her bp again and it had not improved so we made the journey to the hospital. When we arrived, the nurses took her bp, ran a few other tests and came back after a few minutes to inform us that thankfully she wasn't to level d), but SURPRISE!!! she was getting to stay in the hospital until delivery to ensure that if something did happen both she and Caleb would be in good hands... and for a minute I'm going to go on a small tangent. The doctors, nurses and specialists at Plano Medical Center are off the heezy fo' sheezy. They were so great about explaining where we were, letting us know the options, risks and letting us decide how we wanted to proceed. Their bedside manor was terrific and gosh darn it, people liked them.

After Katie was admitted to the hospital we got into a routine since I was staying at home with Koda and working during the days. I would come up in the morning, bring my girl her Starbucks, hang out for a few minutes, go to work, go back at the end of the day, have dinner with her, go home, go to bed, and repeat. A week later, on Friday November 5, I came up to see Katie per our normal morning ritual and the nurse took her blood pressure while I was there. It was terrible. She said she was going to go check with the doctor to see how she wanted to proceed. She left the room, came back and... SURPRISE!!! the doctor wanted to go ahead and induce because her blood pressure was at such a dangerous level. After hearing that news, I got out of my chair like a shot, stared blankly at Kate, blacked-out momentarily, ran over to her packed bag to re-pack it and then walked over to her and asked what I needed to do. Yet again, she just looked at me, with a look of frustratingly surprising calm and said, "sit down, relax and breathe." It was amazing... so simple, so brilliant. After that, we began a 12 hour journey towards the delivery of our son. Kate was amazing through the whole process and after it was all over I couldn't have been more proud of her. She was so calm, so peaceful. Being with her and watching her for those next few hours to witness the expressions of excitement of knowing what was to come, fear of not knowing what was to come and her internal preparations for motherhood was simply amazing. She was amazing. Eloquent words will never be able to do those expressions and precious moments leading up to our son's birth (and the moments to follow) any justice.

When the process started, the doctors and nurses let us know that due to the timing of Katie's inducement and her physical situation, we (and by we I mean she) would be in labor until early morning to mid-morning on Saturday. After we had heard that and prepared for a long night, the anesthesiologist came into our room around 7:45 or 8:00pm on Friday night, introduced himself and said, "so are we ready to have a baby or what?"... SURPRISE!!! Due to her bp, which had risen in the last couple of hours, they weren't waiting any longer. It was time for us to meet our son. As soon as he had entered the room we were on our way to the operating room. They wheeled us in, put Katie under the anesthesia and began the surgery. There was a curtain up between us and the doctors so we were left to wonder what was happening on the other side. After about 45 minutes in the operating room, we heard a sound I had heard many times before in other little people, but this time resonated in some strange deep place in my soul... SURPRISE!!! it was the sound of my son crying (truth be told he was screaming bloody murder, but crying sounds precious, screaming is something we will get to a little later in the story...). It was an incredible moment, Katie and I let the doctors clean him off, wrap him up and hand him to us. We sat there for a few minutes with all of the doctors, nurses and specialists frantically running around taking care of my wife while time stood still so I could take a picture of that moment in my mind and remember it forever. We just looked at him. We kissed his head. We looked at each other. I kissed my wife's head... for the record, I have no doubt that if she wasn't stuck on her back with no feeling from her stomach down she would have jumped into my arms and passionately kissed me back while thanking me for creating such a beautiful baby... but since we'll never know you'll just have to take my word for it.

After they had cleaned him off I rolled Caleb out into the waiting room, presented him to our families and took him to the nursery to clean him up and check him out. After they cleaned him off, gave him a clean bill of health and let us take plenty of pictures they brought him back down to our room in the hospital. We just sat there. We held him again. We stared at him again. Wondered how we were supposed to take care of something so precious. All while knowing with absolute certainty that we would throw ourselves into oncoming traffic to protect him. The more I think about it, the stranger it is. By this point I've known him for about 30 minutes and I am willing to do anything and everything to love him and take care of him... even though as you will see shortly, I have no idea how to do that.

After another few hours of ogling over our newborn baby boy, our families left us, the doctors left us, the nurses left us and at 2am, after a 17 hour journey, we began our first adventure together. I call this adventure... how hard can it be? The next few minutes went something like this... fall asleep, wake up, feed baby, change baby, nap for 5 minutes until nurse walks in to check Kate, sleep for another 5 minutes until nursery nurse walks in to check Caleb, nap for 2 minutes until doctor walks in, change baby, change baby, nap for 2 minutes until baby needs changing again. I felt like he could just sense it. Right as I was drifting off to sleep for what I only imagined would be the most incredible restful 12 hour sleep of my life he would erupt into a crying, screaming, pooping... sorry, I mean precious little newborn. After about 27 minutes of this, the nursery nurse walked in and told us SURPRISE!!! if we wanted to, they could take Caleb for a few hours and let us sleep then bring him back when he needed a feeding. Best. Surprise. Ever. For the last few weeks, older and wiser people have seen Katie, asked when Caleb was due, chuckled to themselves and said, "get all the sleep you can now." Katie and I would always smile back and I can't be entirely sure what her thought was, but mine was always, "ok dude. I guess you don't know who I am. I'm superman. You're not. Invincibility has been my gift since birth. I have no kryptonite. Sleep? Why don't you go sleep? BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!" Then SURPRISE!!! we had our son, went to sleep at 2:00am, then woke up at 2:02, 2:05, 2:08, 2:11, 2:20, 2:23 and 2:27. I was at the mercy of a 6lb 14oz baby boy. Letting the nursery take care of him didn't seem so bad by this time. So we let them take care of him until his feedings during the nights and brought him back out during the day.

The next few days were spent at the hospital meeting with doctors, nurses, family, visitors all wanting to see our son. Our departure date was scheduled for Monday. When the time came, the nurses came in for a last check of her blood pressure and SURPRISE!!! it was too high to go home. We would have to stay another day. When Tuesday came, we were awakened by the doctor who came in early to let us know that we would be leaving as soon as we were checked out by everyone (nurse for Kate, nurse for Caleb, doctor for Kate, anesthesiologist for Kate). So at 9am the doctor came in and cleared us to leave. Doctor, check. Around 11, the nurse came in for Caleb and 11:30 the nurse came in for Kate. Check and check. Now, with only the anesthesiologist remaining we waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. It seemed like all of central Plano was impregnated, delivering babies on this day and every single one of them was in need of anesthesia. After what I can only imagine was 1000 epidurals, he came in and cleared Kate to head home. We had hoped to get home a little earlier in the day so that we could get Caleb settled into his new surroundings, unpack and get into bed at a reasonable time so we could no doubt sleep restfully for 10 hours during Caleb's first night at home, but... SURPRISE!!! we arrived home a little after 8:30 and I dropped Katie and Caleb off so I could go pick up her prescriptions.

So begins our next adventure... I call this adventure, Sleep. Please Lord, just make him sleep. After I dropped Katie and Caleb off at home, I ran to the store to pick up her prescriptions. When I left, Katie was resting on the couch and Caleb was in a seat on the table next to her in his new little flannel jacket and pants. When I returned I heard Caleb screaming from the garage, Katie looked like she had been crying, Caleb's cute outfit was in a pile on the table and the seat smelled like throw up. It didn't take me long to realize that we were going to need to pick up some more cleaning products from the store the next time I went. After we cleaned up Caleb, put him in his first pair of footie pajamas and got him ready for bed, we laid him in his bassinet and he looked up at me with what I thought was a "Thank you father. You are the most loving, caring man on earth" look. Come to find out it was a "these footie pajamas are too big and my arms, legs and chest are all stuck in the same part of my pajamas and I'm going to scream for 30 minutes while you figure this out" look. After 30 minutes of trying to figure it out (and by 30 minutes I mean 1 hour and 30 minutes) we realized that his arms, feet and by this time his face from the nose down were all in the same compartment of his footie pajamas. I went down the hall and found another sleeping gown for him to wear and began the process of changing him into that. All this time, due to Katie's high bp she is being forced, against her will, to sit in bed and do her best to patiently direct me down the hall to try and find the clothes, then watch helplessly as I try to dress our son. After she helped me find his next pair of PJs it was time to put them on. Since I put my own clothes on everyday I thought I could put one piece of clothing on a baby with relative ease. I will take it to the grave that if he wasn't flopping around like a fish out of water I would have been able to do it in less than 25 minutes. After I put his gown on I realized I should have checked his diaper before I changed him and put him down for his first night of sleep at home. With Katie painstakingly watching on, I spent the next 45 minutes undressing him, changing his diaper, re-dressing him and putting him back in the bassinet... and SURPRISE!!! instead of expressing his gratification for my help as I imagined he screamed, wiggled, writhed, cried, yelled, tossed and kicked during every second of each one of the 45 minutes it took me to get through it all. Afterwards, we thought that he might just be hungry so we fed him. Nope, that didn't stop it. By this time, I had some weird alter-ego personality take over and I started nesting. Many of you don't know me very well other than through blog posts, but for those of you who do I'm sorry for just making your heads explode. I know. Me, nesting? I don't get it either. What the (insert word of choice here)? I had faced some kind of sensory overload and was so confused by everything that was happening I started cleaning everything. Katie just sat there looking at me. I started washing clothes, unpacking boxes and unloading baby stuff. It was weird. Katie knew it. I knew it. But I couldn't stop it. In the middle of it, Katie looked at me and calmly said, "Matt, we will be just fine. We will get through this." When she said it I realized how crazy I must have looked. Our baby was crying in the bassinet, my wife was lying in our bed, and I was running around like an idiot. I walked over and kissed her on the head and thanked her for stopping my insanity.

After I had gotten my wits about me Caleb, after feeding a few minutes earlier, let out the most ferocious fart I have ever heard. It was so loud that Katie immediately sat up in bed and asked me, "you made sure the diaper was put on tight in the back, right?" Silence. "What do you mean?" It was the only response I could come up with. At that point, I was proud of my son and laughing hysterically on the inside. Tight in the back? What did she mean? Why does that matter. She asked again, "tight in the back, did you put the diaper on tight in the back?" "I don't know." As I picked him up, I discovered why she asked. From the feeling of poop on his shirt I suddenly realized I was in for an ugly... SURPRISE!!! When he unleashed the aforementioned ferocious flatulence it was done with such force that it went up the back of his diaper, onto his shirt and all over his back. So there we were, 2:00am with a screaming, crying, wiggle-worm of a baby covered in a poopy gown. By this time, Kate was acutely aware that I couldn't handle this problem on my own. Against everyone's instructions, she got out of bed, walked over to the bassinet and we did the work. We cleaned him up, put his clothes in the wash, put the changing pad in the wash, wiped and wiped and wiped and wiped and wiped and wiped until there was nothing left to wipe. By 2:45am, we had been home for 6 hours, Caleb had been crying for 99.9% of the time, we had changed his clothes 3 times, changed his diaper 4 times, fed him 2 times and then all of the sudden, just as quickly as it had began he stopped. We wrapped him up in his new diaper, dressed him in clean pajamas, swaddled him in a warm blanket, laid him down in his bassinet and he just stopped. The silence was golden. I looked at Katie. She looked at me. For almost 6 years now, we had never had a problem sleeping after a long hard day. But for whatever reason, we couldn't do anything but lay there and look at each other. Exhausted, tired, we just looked at each other. Then after a few minutes we just started laughing. We had our first "remember the time when..." memory with our son. It was hilarious. I was on the junior varsity parenting team for sure, but I didn't care. Katie was stuck in bed on doctor's orders, but she didn't care. We had just experienced our first horrifically terrible, but hilariously memorable night at home with our son. One of what I can only imagine will be many to come.

Our alarm went off at 5:30am for Caleb's next feeding. When the alarm went off I got out of bed like a shot, stared blankly at Kate, blacked-out momentarily, ran over to Caleb's crib then walked over to her and asked what I needed to do. Once again, she looked at me, with a tired look of frustratingly surprising calm and said, "I wish I could do it, but since my bp is still high I can't get out of bed yet, so you're going to have to do it. Get the bottle, feed him, change him and come back to bed." It was amazing... so simple, so brilliant. As quickly as I started I was done and we were back in bed, sleeping peacefully. When we drifted off to sleep I had absolutely no idea what the next day would bring. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was finally at home with my family. And that was all that mattered.