Well, That's NOT How That Was Supposed to Go.

I had a whole long post planned to detail the point from when Beck's water broke, (about 10:30 pm Thursday October 28th) until the moment I held Taylor in my arms for the first time, (about 2 am Saturday October 30th) but I've fallen too far behind and so many things are happening each day that I'd just rather keep this brief and move onto what's happening now.

Cool? Cool.

So yeah, that's not how it was supposed to happen. You can surmise from the numbers above that Beck's birthing time (labor) didn't exactly go as planned. We stuck with the Hypnobabies method as long as we could and she endured about 13 hours of labor without any pain meds whatsoever. This picture of the scratches on my arm should support that:

I was pinched, punched, scratched, and bitten in the 13 hours of drug-free labor. I was also promised sexual favors in exchange for drugs.
 They don't teach you that in Hypnobabies class. 

As difficult a decision as it was, at some point in the afternoon on Friday the 29th, we decided to move past our hopes of a drug-free birth and opted for an epidural. It was probably the most difficult decision I've ever made. I was angry, sad, disappointed, and flat-out dejected. I smoked 3 cigarettes in about 2 minutes while I gave my parents the news over the phone (yes, I'm quitting).

Imagine planning and preparing and dreaming about something for months and months and months and getting so close to realizing those plans only to discover that the universe has another plan for you altogether. And I'm not talking about finding out that the girl you planned to take to the school dance ditched you for someone else. The decisions we made and the plan that we put together was designed to give Taylor the best start in life as possible. It was an absolute kick in the nuts knowing that we wouldn't be able to do that for him, but Beck had had enough and it had become a matter of her sanity and safety.

Becky truly gave it her all, so I don't want to give anyone the impression that I'm disappointed in her or somehow fault her for any of this. I couldn't be more proud of her for enduring labor for so long without drugs, and we've both come to the understanding that what happened is exactly what was in store for us.

So of course with the epidural came the pitocin drip, and when it was finally time to push, Taylor just wasn't ready to come out. Actually, he was trying to come out crooked (stoned out of his mind probably) and was stuck in her pelvis. So after about 2 hours of pushing (it's really nothing like you see in the movies, fyi), the dreaded c-word came into play...cesarian. All of the nightmare horror stories we'd read during pregnancy and fully intended to avoid were coming true. The epidural had set off the domino effect of intervention after intervention after intervention.

Having a cesarian birth meant that 2 more of the items on our Birthing Plan would be out the window: Taylor couldn't be brought to Mommy's chest immediately because the doctors said they had to ensure he was healthy first thing (and apparently that means hovering over him while he lie on a table under really bright lights), and we wouldn't be able to allow the chord to stop pulsing before cutting it (they gave the same reasoning). Sorry, son. Your Mom and I gave it everything we had. I hope you don't hold it against us.

This is the second time in this post that I'll say that an experience was the "most" something, but the cesarian was truly the most bizarre thing I've ever been through. It felt so...sci-fi. But anyway...

Mommy and Son meet for the first time.

Taylor was born at 1:55 am, Saturday morning, October 30th. He weighed 6 lbs. 14 oz. and measured 19.5 inches long (exactly one ounce lighter and a quarter inch shorter than I was at birth). He's 100% healthy and is absolutely perfect. His feet are gimongous.

So there you have it. Our incredible, long, and unforgiving journey into parenthood. I can say that even though things didn't go our way, the one thing that I've taken away from all of this is that you must be able to adapt on the fly and move onto Plan B when necessary without hesitation. I wasn't prepared for that going into this. I let my emotions get the best of me, but I'm a better person and will be a better parent because of it.

This kid wasn't even born yet and was already training me to be a better Father. Kudos, son.

Well shit, I guess this post ended up covering pretty much everything.

It's been about 12 days with Taylor and I feel like we're finally starting to get into a groove. I've been back to work since Monday, so Beck has volunteered to handle the late night feedings on her own (thanks babe).

My goal is for 2 or 3 new posts a week. Thanks for reading.