I figure now is as good a time as any to start that blog I've been thinking about writing for years. I always pick awesome times to start major projects. I might as well carry on the tradition with this. My goal is to take a trip through parenthood, one day at a time. I don't have any delusions about updating daily, but I think keeping a tab on my feelings and experiences as a first-time dad will be cool for my son (and hopefully some other people, too) to look at in the future.
So let's start at the beginning (of parenthood). To me, that's when I met my wife. I would love to say that I fell in love with her the moment I met her, but it's not that spectacular. I was dating someone else at the time, and I'm pretty sure April had the highest of praise for me at the time. I was in middle school, and was clearly the coolest person ever (note: sarcasm).
Fast forward several years and April was placed next to me by our choir director because I was the kid that talked to much and April was the kid that never said a word and god-forbid she ever break a rule. By this time, I was a freshman and she was a senior. She had caught my eye during rehearsals anyway, so I was pretty stoked that she got stuck next to me.
My first pick up line? "You know you're going to die someday." It wasn't a question, just a statement.
Her response? "Jeez, I sure hope so."
I was sold, but there was a problem. She was taken.
So, I enlisted the help of a mutual friend that kept me up-to-date on her status. Finally, several months had past and I got word that she's was newly single. Seven days after graduating high school, April decided to go out with a 15 year old who had just recently finished his freshman year. That little leap of faith got us here.
On our 5 year wedding anniversary (10 years and 9 days together, total), we found out for sure that we were expecting a little one. The nine months that followed were largely uneventful, thank god. After one early scare that turned out to be nothing, everything went swimmingly. Mom and baby were healthy and progressing well the whole time. And we were lucky. April only gained 24 pounds in 39 weeks and wore her size 4 regular jeans to our last Dr. appointment two days ago. She didn't miss a single day of work for the entire pregnancy and had little to no pain, sickness, weakness, or swelling.
Saturday night was a late night (most of them are). We had slept in Sunday morning. I awoke around 1 pm to my wife pacing around the room holding her basketball belly with the most unpleasant look on her face. I figured it was go time, but neither of us were sold on the idea. Last week, we had three hours of regular contractions at about four minutes apart and it turned out to be a false alarm.
This one wasn't. After 40 minutes or so I make the executive decision to call the Dr. After convincing April that it wasn't necessary to shower and do her hair (she just did her hair, instead), we grabbed our already-mostly-packed bag and other things and headed to the hospital. At this point, her painful contractions were between three and four minutes apart.
She walked from the car to the birthing center, refusing a couple rides in a wheelchair and stopping for two contractions in the hallways of the hospitals. Once we got into a delivery room, I told the nurse the now-famous family story my father-in-law tells. To be brief, Noland family labor doesn't last long and she's probably a lot further along than they'd imagine.
She dismissed my story and proceeded to find out that April was fully dilated and already about crowning. She exclaimed that she didn't believe me but now she did. I couldn't help but laugh. She went on to explain to my wife that she was going to get the doctore here ASAP and instructed her not to push, if at all possible.
51 minutes after checking into the hospital, my son was born. After having her water broken, it took my wife six (6) contractions to push my son out. SIX!! No meds, no epidural, no nothing. She didn't even squeeze my hand all that hard. Labor was so fast I wasn't able to call or text hardly anyone to let them know it was happening. In between contractions, we were conversing with the Dr. and the nurses about work and other small talk. April never flinched. She was amazing! The one nurse said she hadn't delivered more than 3 or 4 babies that easily in 30 years. Wow!
Which leads us to the moment...
Even after nine months of people telling us how amazing it will feel to hold your son when he's born, you don't really know exactly what's going to hit you until to actually get to do it. The feeling is nothing short of exhilarating. It's nothing like you've ever felt before, and I imagine I'll rarely, if ever, feel it again. It's a once in a lifetime sensation that you've somehow accomplished more than you could ever know. The idea that this little man is going to live for so long and see so much, and that you are privileged enough to be a part (a huge part) of that experience is something that boggles your mind. How amazing is this process, seriously?
It's different now, and it will never be the same from here on out. It's cliched, but true. Of course, it's kind of always true. If you aren't changing, then start. I believe we're here to change. That's the whole point. Change in life is exciting, it's interesting, it's what makes life worth living. This is just another change.
A BIG one.
But enough about all that. More importantly, swaddling is a LOT harder in real life than in the class with the little dolls. First, my son doesn't seem to be okay with anything in life if his hands aren't near his face. Every ultrasound we had during pregnancy showed his hands near or at his face, and things didn't change when he came out. This makes swaddling pretty difficult. The doll doesn't make the constant attempt to raise it's arms, or complain when you push them down. The doll doesn't kick and wiggle. The doll wasn't as small as my son, either. At 5 lbs 13 oz, he is surprisingly difficult to handle, especially with these giant blankets we're supposed to be wrapping him in. It seems like there's way too much cloth, and everything keeps getting in the way.
We'll get it soon enough I suppose.
I've managed not to get peed on yet. It will happen, I'm sure. So far, though, I'm lucky. Mom already got sprayed, and the Dr. got a whole bunch right when he came out.
In other news, I am starting to believe people now when they've told us that we'll never sleep. I should be sleeping. My wife is sleeping, my child is sleeping, I am not sleeping. I'm hungry, actually... shouldn't have let Chris take the leftover pizza home.
Thirteen hours of parenthood down. Here's to tomorrow....
RG
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