And hello Tess. Supernik delivered the goods. Hence this thingyless thingy. At the hospital, we sat around and waited for the inducement to begin. I ate a whole box of Cheezits. Cheezits are drugs. Keep them away from me. I finally beat Nik in a game of Gin. We talked about all the stuff you'd imagine we'd talk about. We asked a thousand rotating nurses a zillion questions.

Then came the Cervidil, and irregular contractions ensued. This made the baby's heart beat out of her wee chest. Four hours of tachycardia later, the docs decided to stop the contractions with some other medicine. This one made Nik shake from head to toe as if naked in Antarctica. Daddy-O was internally freaked but externally calm: my duty. Five minutes later the shaking stopped suddenly and completely, as if a switch had been turned off. Ah...

Then we waited on the cervix to do its thinning and dilation thing. After a while, the doc told Nik, "you're at 10", and the process began. First the epidural. Then the Pitocin. Then the pushing...about three hours of it. That epidural was a wise move. Whoo-ey. In the middle of the night, we could hear the woman in the next room screaming. Not just any screaming, mind you. This was chill-down-the-spine screaming, like you'd hear in the culminating moment of a bad horror flick. This wasn't tearing off your fingernails and dunking your hand in lemon juice screaming. This was legs first into a wood chipper screaming. Nik was about 50-50 on the epidural until the woman next door sealed the deal.

I won't Dooce this up with all the sanguinary details, but let's just say that Tess was stuck for a while and required a little Hooverage. Even that wasn't working. Our doctor (Dr. Sirgeon, if you can believe that) gave us an ultimatum. One last contraction, one final try. If that doesn't work, it's off to the C-section room. Nik gave me a look. It was tinged with fear, but the look said, "No frickin' way am I going to get all the way to this point and have it all count for nothing."

Then came the push of all pushes, Nik's finest moment. Tess went from just barely crowning to OUT in one moment. In the next moment she took her first breath—quite a thing to behold. I couldn't have known how powerful an experience that would be. Or how amazing it was to see the look of relief and happiness on Nik's face when she first heard her cry. I had read about these moments countless times, but I had never been particularly impressed or moved by others' depiction of this primal experience...just as you might not be as you read this. Just something that has to be lived, I suppose.

Coming home was great, but I had ignorantly assumed that babies sleep when you expect them to. Or more accurately, when you want them to. We quickly realized that Tess is nocturnal and she sleeps whenever she feels like it. Choppy ten-minute intermissions between wailing sessions. Feed me AGAIN! ZZZZZ AGAIN! ZZZZZ AGAIN! ZZZZZ AGAIN! How can she still be hungry?

There are many sentimental clichés out there about the joys of this parent stuff. They're all true.

Labels: at home